Thursday, April 28, 2011
Short Stories for our Book
Post your short story here. You may get a few last comments by one of the groups (they should be minor at this point). The Reader, Writer's and Overall check groups will give your story one last look at. The Music group will be arranging it in an order and the Author's group will be writing a one line blurb about your story and a one sentence lead into your story. All the rewrites need to be posted on this blog (even if you did not rewrite your story).
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ReplyDeleteExtraterrestrials
ReplyDeleteCLAAAAAANK! The rusted locker sounded as it was thrusted shut for the last time of the year.
"What the hell, Boggle. Why do you always slam your damn locker every time!" Troggle said.
"Chill out, bro," said Oggle.
"It’s the last time I will ever even be in this school, and I'll do what I like…" Boggle said.
"I can't take this school anymore, these last four years at Moonrock High have been terrible," Troggle said in a dreadful tone. "Being with you two alien brats hasn't made it any easier either."
"You think you are really great because you are two minutes older huh" Boggle said.
"Just drop it already, it's your fault we all ended up in detention anyway, now I have to spend the first thirty minutes of my summer with Dr. Oog."
The aliens floated down the hall, due to zero gravity, and into their final detention as high schoolers. The moment they stepped in, the oldest, ugliest, and meanest teacher in their school, Dr. Oog, greeted them. "You're all late," he said not bothering to lift his head up from his Moonrock Times newspaper. The boys didn’t respond, and took their usual seats in the far right corner of the room. The class was filled with students who couldn't resist staying out of trouble before the final bell of the year rang. They reached under their desks and gathered the three straws they had taped underneath, which they had always used to spit zero gravity spitballs at their most hated teachers.
"Oggle do you have the stuff?" Boggle asked.
"Are you kidding bro? I have an even better idea" said Oggle. "This is the last time we have a chance to get revenge over this jerk."
Oggle opened his bag, and took out a huge wad of his old assignments, homework assignments, and reports. He picked up the wad and stuffed the hundreds of papers into his huge alien mouth. He crunched them down into the shape of a ball with his tongue. The finished result was a spitball the size of a basketball, dripping with alien saliva, like a soggy tennis ball that had just come out of a golden retriever's mouth. "Now this is a spitball," he said, feeling satisfied.
1/4
ReplyDeleteStruggling to see Light
I still remember that day in kindergarten when Mrs. White told us that it was time to make snowflakes to decorate the classroom. I was wearing my favorite yellow shirt and my lucky shoes that day. I guess they weren't as lucky as I thought they were… As Mrs. White took out all the supplies I had already grabbed my favorite scissors. Next, I ran across the room to where she was sitting, handing out white paper to all my friends. I remember being so excited as I ran across the carpet to where Mrs. White sat. I remember feeling uneasy as my shoe caught on the edge of the rug as I fell forward. Lastly, I remember the piercing pain I felt as I fell down. Everything turned into a blur then. Everyone was screaming and I could hear my best friend Mary crying. Mrs. White was yelling for everyone to stay back as she called 911. I could feel myself being lifted of off the ground and lifted onto a comfy white bed. Then I heard a deep voice assuring me that everything was going to be okay. He lied.
It's been ten years since that day in Mrs. White's classroom. Ten years since I could see. Now the only time I see is in my dreams, which have turned to nightmares since my accident.
After I lost my vision, I fell into a sort of rut. Life didn’t seem to hold the same appeal as it had before. Everything seemed to be a mystery, and it frustrated me. It frustrated me so much that I decided never to go out of my house ever again. That way, I would always know where everything and everyone was. It made me feel safe. That was my life, and I accepted it for what it was.
Then, yesterday, when my parents came home, they announced that I was going to school. At first I laughed, how could they say something that was so ridiculous? Then after about two minutes, I realized that they were serious, dead serious.
2/4
ReplyDelete"No." I said. My feet started to fidget. This is what always happens to me whenever I begin to get anxious or nervous. There was no way I was going to go to school. Not now, not ever. I had been completely content in my own little world that I had created over the years. And now, my parents were threatening to change it. "NO." I said again, this time louder.
"Emily, we think that it would be a good idea for you to interact with other people. You are turning into a young woman, and we don't want to see you wasting your life away listening to music and sleeping all day. St. Baldrics Academy is a place that will adhere to your every need. It's a very wonderful school," said my mother, her voice full of that maternal tone that reeks of We-know-what's-best-for-you.
"Mom. I don’t think you understand. I. Am. Blind. School is not an option for me and never will be. All I want to do is to live the way I have been living for the past ten years. Why do you have to swoop in and change everything now?" I asked, feeling my anger start to build.
"Its because you need this. I mean look at you," she said.
"Excuse me. MOM, I CAN'T. BECAUSE IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED YET, I'M BLIND!" I said, exploding.
The Summer I Found Love (1/4)
ReplyDeleteEvery day for two months since we had been let out from school, I'd sit at the edge of my bed, fantasizing about what the perfect summer would be like. My mother would walk into my room promptly at 11:30 to tell me that lunch was ready, and I'd sit there with a dazed look plastered on my face, contemplating what was supposed to be my latest and greatest idea of my ideal summer romance. Neither of us dared to break the ongoing cycle that we had perfected over the course of the two months I'd been out of school. My mother knew better than to do that ever since the hard breakup I'd been through during the last semester of my junior year. But I was a senior now, and things were going to be different. I could just feel it.
My mother and I had always been close. Since the day of my tenth birthday when I had heard the startling news that my father had been killed in a car accident, my mother and I had formed a bond so strong that it could not possibly be broken by any outside force. Sometimes, it felt as if we could read each other's minds. She had always been there for me whenever I needed her⎯my fortress that shielded me from the dangers of the outside world.
The day my boyfriend, Trent, dumped me started out as a typical day⎯six class-filled periods and a study hall before the final bell rang, some mystery meat was served in the cafeteria, and that pesky History teacher who kept rambling on about the fierce battle he'd had to face in World War II. I had been going about my usual business, and being the good student I was, I spent most of my free periods and study halls in the library. Nothing special ever happened in the library, but I usually liked to finish up that night's homework before I got home so that I could spend the rest of my night talking on the phone with Trent.
I took my Spanish textbook out of my purple Jansport backpack that I had positioned perfectly so that it would lean on the leg of my chair and began to thumb through it, as I reached behind me to tie my long, black hair into a messy ponytail. My hair had always been hard to manage, considering that it was layered and really thick. I had inherited the dark black color of my hair from my mom, and my fair skin tone from my dad, but everywhere I went, people told me that there was no mistaking the resemblance between my mom and I, and that we looked just like twins, a compliment which, of course, my mom always pretended to be flattered by. Rachel looks like a younger version of you, Marie, my mom's friends would say. The contrast between my pale skin and the dark color of my hair was so distinct that it made each of my features stand out even more.
I turned to a random page in my textbook, which read, "Por favor, traducir este en Inglés," but I didn't feel like translating anything, so I put my head down on top of my Spanish book and closed my eyes. Just for a few minutes, I reassured myself, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. I awoke, startled, as I turned around to face a tall, lean figure⎯Trent. His light brown eyes were wild with excitement and he looked anxious, as if he had drank two Five Hour Energy drinks before stopping by to see me. By the way he paced in circles around my chair, I could tell that something wasn't right.
"What is it, Trent?" I asked, as a wave of worry began to wash over me.
"That’s it," Boggle said. "We are going to that exchange program", he said as he turned off the TV.
ReplyDelete"I'm down," said Oggle, "Its just Trog we have to convince. He would be the only one who wouldn't want to go."
"I'll come," Troggle said as the other two looked surprised. "It would actually sound interesting to live amongst a different race, and study a new culture."
"You are such a nerd, but I'm happy you want to come, we should get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us."
The next day, the three brothers woke up, and made their way to the shuttle center. They browsed the possible "skin" choices and decided on the skins of three Japanese 15 year olds. After hours of custom fitting, they were finally fitted in their skins. After it was done they looked completely human. Their tails were hidden, their scales were covered, and they looked like normal Japanese boys. At 7:00 a.m. they were put onto a space shuttle and sent off to Hawaii. On the way to the islands, they were briefed on everything they would need to know to live on the islands including Hawaiian history, island culture, and Japanese language. At 9:00 a.m., the shuttle, which looked like a normal airplane, touched down at Honolulu International Airport.
The aliens spent their summer venturing around the islands, making friends, and becoming accustomed to living in human society. They had gotten so familiar with the islands it was like they had lived there for their entire lives. When the time came for the boys to go back to the moon, they unanimously made a decision to stay and live on Oahu like so many of their fellow aliens had. They bought a house in town, and since they looked only 15, they enrolled in Punahou School.
CLAAAAAANK! The locker sounded as Boggle slammed his Pauahi locker shut for the first time of the year. "Are you serious? First day of the year and you are already slamming your locker…" said Troggle
"Chill out brah, it's the first day you don't have to be so uptight." Oggle remarked. "Yeah really, just relax. Nobody is going to figure out who we are, we blend in perfectly, just act like everyone else."
And so they were off. They went off to their classes, made a few friends, found their own niche in the school society, and continued to spitball their teachers. Hundreds of people passed them by each day, completely unaware of who they were, and what their story was. They were completely disregarded by many, and few bothered to take the time to get to know them. They were aliens living amongst humans. A thought that many humans wouldn't come close to considering. Who can we trust?
By E.T.
I wanted to write this story to show the possibility of having aliens on Earth. I have read many books, and seen many movies and TV shows, about aliens on Earth so I decided to write my own story about them. I feel that it is very possible that aliens will live among us in the near future if they haven't already.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThe Summer of My Discontent (2/4)
ReplyDelete"This isn't easy for me to say, Rach, but," he paused, reaching up to brush a few locks of his golden blonde hair out of his face. I think we should see other people. I'm sorry…" he said, swiftly pivoting around on his left foot as he turned to walk out of the library, not even looking over his shoulder once to see if I was all right. The very place that had once been a refuge for me no longer felt safe anymore. My emotions began to take the better of me as I placed my head into my hands and began to cry, my sniffling quickly turning into sobbing. I cried out all of my frustration and heartbreak, and by the time the period was almost over, my eyes were red and swollen. I guess I must have been crying pretty loudly because when I lifted my head up, a few heads were turned in my direction, concern creasing their foreheads. As soon as I looked over, they turned back to whatever they had been working on, not wanting to be labeled as "nosy"⎯all except for one guy. His name was Jake. I recognized him from my third period English class. I looked at him through my tear-drenched eyelashes and red-rimmed eyes that had distinct smudges of black from my carefully applied eyeliner and mascara. I was a wreck, but he didn't seem to care. He sauntered towards me slowly with one hand outstretched, holding a tissue, and the other, extended for me to grab. I admired how undaunted he had been in coming up to me in the first place, and the nonchalant way that he seemed to carry himself. I took the tissue from him and began to wipe my eyes, as he helped me up. And so began my friendship with Jake.
Jake was probably the best friend I could have ever asked for. Even after the rough breakup that he had witnessed, he stuck around, cleaning up the mess that Trent had made. Jake listened to me cry, complain, and go through my monthly moody phases, yet, he never strayed far from my side. I loved how easygoing he was, and that he was blunt and to-the-point without being overly harsh. There was a balance in him when it came to certain things, especially topics that required more of a sensitive outlook to them, and over time, I found myself growing more and more fond of him.
"Do you want to go and grab a bite, Rach?" Jake asked.
"Yeah, sure! Let's go!" I answered, eagerly. Whenever I was with him, I felt whole again, like my breakup with Trent had never happened in the first place.
Chicago was known to be pretty chilly outside in around mid-July with each girl sporting a puffy parka, skinny jeans, a pair of UGGs, a sheer scarf, and some gloves. I turned around to grab my coat and gloves out of my car, when I remembered that I had forgotten them on the kitchen counter at home. Dang, I thought to myself. What am I supposed to do now? As if I said this outloud, Jake came up behind me, and passed me his jacket.
"Here," he gestured to me, "you look cold. Why don't you put this on? I wouldn't want you to freeze to death," he said with a wink. I glanced at him, noticing how animated his dark brown eyes were⎯almost the color of dark chocolate⎯and the way they glistened as he talked. He had the most gorgeous eyes I had ever seen, from his long eyelashes that protruded out from the top of his eyelids, to the way he could mezmorize me just by looking at me.
My body had begun to warm up, but my hands were still freezing cold. I looked up at Jake, with his chocolate brown eyes and shaggy black hair, and he stared back at me, smiling. His teeth were perfectly straight and bleached white⎯years of wearing braces, he had explained to me many times before⎯and his smile was bright enough to illuminate a whole room. Then, he reached down and took my hands, placing them between his own, which felt warm and strong. I felt my heart do a flip as the two of us stood there, not saying anything.
The Summer of My Discontent (3/4)
ReplyDeleteWe walked along the streets of Chicago silently, Jake's hand gripping my hand ever so lightly, but not showing the slightest sign that he wanted to let go. Finally, he broke the silence, and the words that came out of his mouth shocked me so badly that I stood there for a few seconds, dumbfounded. "I'm really glad I met you, Rach. No one has ever made me feel the way you do," he said looking down at his feet, probably regretting the confession he had just made.
It took me a while to form a sentence before I decided on what I was going to say to him. "I'm really glad I met you, too, Jake. Thank you for coming up to me that day in the library." His gazed remained fixed on a dot of white paint on the asphault, but just by glancing over at his pale skin, I could tell that he was blushing more and more with every word that I uttered.
We both stood there for a while, neither of us sure of what to say next. I turned to face him, not sure of what I should do, but he was already staring at me. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, and then closed it, repeating this process twice.
"I'm sorry," he said. "This is really awkward now, isn't it…? I should have just" But I didn't let him finish. I reached out to him, pressing his toned body against me, and took hold of his face with both hands, as I pulled him in closer so that I could kiss him. His hands traced the contours of my face, and I could feel all of my troubles melting away. I could just taste the sweetness of his lips from his cherry Chapstick, and the way they opened and closed around mine, enveloping them perfectly. His arm moved down to the small of my back, as he held me there. I paused, taking in the moment. I guess I never really realized the spell that Trent had on me. But somehow, from the moment I met him, I knew there was something there.
We both pulled away, simultaneously looking up towards the sky. It had transformed from a buttery sunset to the color of twilight, almost engulfing the moon completely. His eyes were wide with surprise, but they still twinkled in the glow of the moonlit sky. Worried that I had misread all of the signs he had been giving me, I thought to myself, Maybe he never really did like me... Maybe he was just being friendly... I was about to say something, but I was interrupted as Jake pressed his pointer finger to my lips, removed it, and began kissing me again, slowly this time, but with more passion.
When the kiss was over, Jake took a tiny, velvet box out of his pocket and placed it in the palm of my hand. Curious, I turned it over a couple of times, wondering what it was.
"Go ahead and open it," he whispered. I removed the cover slowly, as if whatever was inside the box could run away and disappear, kind of the way that Trent had. But of course, it didn't. My fingers grazed a something colda piece of metal, perhaps and then a chain, and finally, a clasp. I held the necklace up facing the moon so that I could examine it. It was a necklace with a diamond pendant on it. The diamond had been so deliberately cut that each of its facets reflected a different part of the moon. I lifted up my hair as Jake reached in front of me to put the necklace on me.
"This was my mother's most prized possession. She entrusted it to me before she died," Jake said, looking at me. "I wanted you to have it."
I had pictured this moment in my bedroom in so many different ways, but this definitely surpassed any idea I could have possibly thought up. Jake was absolutely perfect, and his mom's necklace that he gave me was a constant reminder of his perfection. He had many different sides, thoughts, and emotions, but each of them reflected the same thing, just like a diamond. He was my diamond that I would have to hold onto forever.
By: Tamara
The Summer of My Discontent (4/4)
ReplyDeleteMy inspiration behind this story was based on the fact that I'm one of those teenage girls who crave romance. I love reading romance novels about girls who get swept off their feet by that handsome prince, and find their own "happily ever after".
I also tried to base my writing off of two of my favorite authorsSarah Dessen, Nicholas Sparks, and Jenny Han, all of which just so happen to be romance novelists. Each of the pieces they've writtenJust Listen, The Truth About Forever, The Summer I Turned Pretty, It's Not Summer Without You, We'll Always Have Summer, The Last Song, etc.have inspired me to want to become a better writer. Their books have a particularly interesting storyline and a really deep climax that always keeps me on the edge of my seat, and that's what I wanted to try to incorporate into my story.
Golden Opportunity
ReplyDeletePfffffttttttt!
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the next serve. My mom and I stared intently at the thirty-inch television. Number seven on the USA team served the ball; it floated over the net onto Spain's side while constantly changing its course. It finally landed between the confused gazes of two girls, both thinking the other was going to pass the ball. "Turn your head and you're dead," my mother said. The score was now 24-22, the last set, and the championship match. Seven served the ball again though this time it went straight like a bullet. The ball showing no mercy to whomever it would hit. It bounced off of a Spanish girl's arms, a perfect set for the other team, and the 6'2" USA middle blocker slammed the ball straight down. My mom and I started jumping on the king mattress, wrinkling the silk sheets and screaming our heads off. We then remembered that we had to cheer in secret.
We watched that game about eight years ago, though I still remember it vividly. It is one of my favorite memories with my mother, a moment I will never forget. Although now it is only but a memory, my mother passed away about a month ago. Cancer took her life. This was devastating for me; she was my mother, a friend, and the one I could always turn to.
The castle is much more eerie now, it's just my step brother Trevor, the king or a.k.a. "Dad", a couple of maids, and me, Isabelle. When I was seven years old my mom (an Olympic volleyball player), and I went on a trip to Europe, this is where she found her future husband. She married Prince Edward III, who now goes by "The King." She gave up her chance to go to the Olympics to marry a dud like Edward. Although like every child, I was naïve, and like any other girl I was thrilled about the idea of becoming a princess. So I guess I was okay with the thought of having a king for a father. But now at sixteen years old I can see the reality of this. He is fake, narcissistic, and a selfish jerk, I guess my mom saw something in him that I can't? Or maybe even she was stuck in the fantasy. For the past nine years I have been in training or what I like to call Princess Boot Camp. I learned things like table manners, how to bow, and how to be "lady like." For those of you who think I'm living the dream right now, well I'm not. It was torture. Especially now without my mother, she was my partner in crime. She's the one that got me through all of this.
"Hola Isabelle, tiempo para de say unar," Maria shouted. Interrupting my thoughts.
"Okaaaay! I'll be down there in a minute" I replied. I got off of the bed and checked my email. I had five new messages, two of which were just spam mail. Although one of them caught my eye, it was an email from my grandma who lived in Honolulu, Hawaii. Excitement and curiosity started to build up inside of me, the letter read,
"Dear Isabelle,
I know the loss of your mother has been tough on you, and it has been hard for me too. I was wondering if you wanted to come back home to Hawaii for the summer? We can catch up on things and I really miss you. Your height also needs to be updated on the wall, considering you haven't been home for a while. I want to see how tall you have gotten! So ask your father, and bring your brother too! I love and miss, and I hope you can come.
Love, Grandma"
I was thrilled! I ran at full speed down the marble staircase, weaving around maids and waiters until I reached the grand dining room. The King was stuffing his face already but Trevor waited, he was always very polite. "Good morning," we both said to each other. I sat down next to him, still catching my breath and reached for a slice of toast with jelly. When my breathing became steady and "The King's" eating slowed down, I began to speak,
ReplyDelete"Dad…I was wondering if I could go to Hawaii for the summer to visit Grandma. She just emailed me, and she said that Trevor was invited to! Can we go pleeeasseeeeee?" I saw Trevor smile from the corner of my eye, so I knew he wanted to go too and he was on my side. The King muttered a couple of things under his breath, I knew he was trying to think of a lame excuse to refuse let us go but there was no reason at all to deny us. He pondered for a couple of minutes and finally spoke,
"No," He said hesitantly.
"Why?" I said. "Grandma wants to see us!"
"I don't care! That women is crazy!" (Grandma never approved of him)
Trevor and I ignored his obnoxious comment and ran out of the kitchen. I then came up with a plan. Since the King barely noticed where we were anyway, we could tell him that we were going to summer camp, but instead fly to sunny Hawaii. Trevor agreed to it and we then had one of our spastic moments, we jumped up and down, smiling, and freaking out! Hawaii was going to be great! We could visit Grandma, go to the beach, and we could visit all of the places that my mother and I loved to go to. Our favorite place was Sea Life Park, the animals there were always happy, adorable, and they were carefree. I touched the tiny golden key hanging around my neck. My mother gave it to me the day she died, but it always reminds to take chances and that she is still here with me.
When Trevor and I calmed down, I went up to my room to reply to grandma's email.
Dear Grandma,
I miss you so much! I just asked the King if Trevor and I could go, and he said OKAY! (: We are really excited and I can't wait to see you!
Love, Isabelle
P.S. I have grown five inches!
Two and a half months later
We boarded the Royal Airline plane, our final destination: Honolulu Hawaii, 7,936 miles away. After a ten-hour flight we finally landed at the Honolulu International Airport, I was exhausted but I ran out of the plane to hug my grandma. We embraced each other and I could feel a tear running down my eye, this moment will definitely be on the list of my favorites. She hugged Trevor and then we got into Grandma's Toyota Prius. When we got to her house in Kailua she cooked an array of Hawaiian foods, including my favorite, Haupia. I then realized how much I really missed Hawaii.
The first place we went to was Walls Beach. This was our favorite beach because there were always volleyball nets set up there. Trevor picked up the ball and we started to pepper (toss, pass, set, then hit). We would practice almost everyday in the Royal Recreation Center, though after my mother died Trevor and I both stopped playing. A little later two buff and tan guys approached us; and they asked if we wanted to play some beach volleyball with them. We played a short friendly game with them and surprisingly we were pretty good, and just a little rusty. We could also keep up with them considering we have never played a real beach volleyball game. Afterwards the two men asked if we would like to participate in a beach volleyball tournament that was in about month. Trevor and I exchanged looks and agreed to it. Our grandma was really excited for us too. We started practicing and got back into shape.
excited for us too. We started practicing and got back into shape.
ReplyDeleteOne month later
The Trevor and Isabelle team from Spain, unexpectedly made it to the semifinals, where we found out we would have to play the men that invited us to play in this tournament. This game was long and tiring, rolling in the sand, digging up balls, and setting Trevor so he could hit and bury the ball into the sand. We needed one more point to win, Trevor went into his approach, jumped, and swung. One of the tan men jumped in attempt to block him, though he jumped so high the ball bounced off his head into the crowd. We won. We had made it to the championship game that would be played the next day on the nicest court at Walls. Thousands of grains of golden sand, a 60x30 court, and stands for spectators surrounding the magnificent court.
That night Grandma made us some of her special protein drink when Trevor got a phone call. Grandma and I saw his face drop and then turn to anger. He hung up the phone and said,
"Dad found out that we didn't go to summer camp, and wants us to come home right now."
"What do you mean?" Grandma asked.
"Well…we kind of told him we were going to summer camp, and whaaat? WE CAN'T LEAVE NOW! Tomorrow is the championship game!"
"Oh my goodness" Grandma muttered under her breath.
"What are we going to do?" Trevor asked.
"If we turn our head we're dead" I stated.
"What?" Trevor asked in a confused way.
I held the gold key in my hand and said, "this is our opportunity, and if we have the opportunity to do something we should just go for it. It might not turn out in our favor but the least we can do is give it a shot." My mother's advice still helps me even though she is no longer here and I believe that we can do this.
The next morning, Trevor ignored The King's next call and said, "Lets do this thing!" We walked onto the court, the warm golden sand going between my toes. Our opponents were tall, muscular, and intimidating. This was going to be a tough match. Grandma screamed and cheered the whole time; she was a spirited old woman. The game was nerve racking and stressful, but Trevor and I were on our game. We dug almost every ball, and Trevor pounded his hits, we were a team. At game point the other team hit the ball. It was coming straight at me, right above my head. I then realized where I was and ducked. The ball went out by about two inches. I stood up and Trevor and I had another spastic moment. He picked me up and swung me around. Grandma ran over to us and gave us a huge hug, and I could feel the fresh fiery red lipstick from her wrinkly lips being pressed onto my cheek. This was the beginning of a new family, Trevor, Grandma, and me. So I guess tough times do bring people together.
By, Kristen
I wanted to write this story because I love volleyball. It is my passion and I have been playing since I was 10, I don't know what I would do without it. This was an ideal topic for me because it was fun to write this story and I knew what I was writing about. My coach always said, "turn your head and your dead" and that was my inspiration for the story. It works in volleyball so I thought it would work in this story.
Mysterious Boss Pt. 1
ReplyDelete“The Amazon River, magnificent as it is, holds many wonders, nothing else holds more beauty than this,” shouted Wildlife Ranger Joe. Joe then quickly jumped off the rock. Joe was always fascinated from rare insects to dead birds. He applied for a T.V. show once in Australia, but sadly, he got declined because of his age. He was pretty young, in fact he is one of the youngest Wildlife Ranger, being able to drive around last year.
In Honolulu, May 12th, 2056, something happened a few months ago, where this mysterious letter came in from Dr. Gombini, his boss. Dr. Gombini was always looking for new adventures but because last year, he had a terrible stroke and he is now unable to walk.
“Here it says that there will be a feast held at this what-so-called Cave,” read Dr. Gombini. “But that’s not all, there’s a note on the bottom, *People who received this letter are automatically enrolled in this ‘Amazonian Game’, that’s nice, but I’m not sure what it’s abo…”
“REALLY! ME AND RUFFLE ARE EXCITED TO DO THIS!” screamed Joe. Ruffle slowly raised his tail and gave a happy look.
“I doubt this but I guess you can give it a try since you’ve never seen the wonders of the Amazon. The Amazon Forest isn’t some forest but a spectacular place of wonders.”
Joe then snatched the script from Dr. Gombini’s hand and read the location of the meeting place for the beginning of this adventure!
“All right, I’m ready for this new adventure!”
A few weeks later into the summer:
“All right Mr. Gombini, won’t you send me off?”
“Why should I, you’re great and ready for this hunt! There’s no need to send you off.”
“Well, I guess, but I hope you’ll be alive to see the many pictures I will take for my collection.”
“Yeah… hopefully…”
They gave each other a hug and Joe started on his way to the Honolulu airport.
Days after: Pt. 2
ReplyDelete“Wow, is this how Brazil is like! It’s very nice here, kind of like Hawaii…” loudly whispered Joe to Ruffles. Ruffles wagged his tail like a madman and was very content. “Let’s see, it says here to meet at the hotel ‘La Suerte’, he then noticed something “AWWW SHUCKS! IT’S 8 right now and we are supposed to meet at 10, and he ran.
9:56
“We’re late! Taxi!” hollered Joe. He got in.
“Where eet ess thet you went to go?”
“La Suerte Hotel”
After driving around for a few minutes, the taxi suddenly came to a stop.
Joe asked, “Is this it?”
“Yes!” The taxi man got out and several random guys got into the car and started driving.
“What are you doing, what’s that thing by my head?”
“Shut up and you shall live,” This man dressed in black clicked the gun and Ruffles started barking. He kicked the dog and instantly Ruffles got knocked out…
One day later:
“Where am I… Why does my head hurt so much…?” asked Joe. “We’re in the middle of nowhere… Ruffles? RUFFLES???” Joe slowly treaded across this empty landscape and soon finds out that Ruffles isn’t with him. Suddenly, something pulled the ground and it opened up. He decided to investigate it and went in.
The tunnel consisted of many twists and turn, his favorite shirt was soon turned to rags because of twigs as he tripped and rolled down. Soon after a while, the tunnel opened up to five pathways and he came to a stop. “Oh Lord, is this what awaits me in the middle of an adventure?”
Joe decided to choose his path by juggling a stick (to point) and assumed the path it pointed was the right one to explore. It was a long time before he came to the conclusion of the 2nd path, and you do know how scientists are. Slowly, he walked and the path got dimmer, but he didn’t dare panic because of many beliefs. Such things as the El Tunchi, practice of cannibalism and etc.
After a long time, Joe decided to rest and soon stopped feeling his way. He got out his phone… “DANG, I got two more bars of energy left, I got to save it” he said while noticing that it was already 1:00 PM. “Wow, one day passed and it’s the second day already?” Joe thought, and he decided to lie down. Slowly, slowly things faded away and Joe fell asle…
A few hours later: Pt. 3
ReplyDeleteCRASH-BOOM-MEROW-BARK
Joe instantly sat up, blinking in horror. These screams sounded like animals in pain, and he quickly listened for it as it distanced off. Joe who can’t stand animals screaming and quickly ran after hearing the echoing sounds.
As the tunnel opened up to a whole forest, Joe finds mysterious truck prints, and he concludes that there is some kind of scent of illegal poaching. He followed the truck wheel prints and soon enough, he bumped into a cage. In the cage was a half-dead bird and it’s body so scrawny it can’t fly. Quickly, he blew open the cage and let the bird free, instantly, the bird slowly bounced away. Joe then ventured around the place and found tents that are also full of cages. He undid the ropes of the cages and let them all go, sooner than he thought, and a guy dressed in black came running in.
“You there, what are you doing? Do you realize you are letting go our bosses collection?” yelled the guy dressed in black.
Just like any man would do, he grabbed his phone and dialed the “Brazilean Emergency Number.” After that, he ran.
After running around the mass of tents, he ceased and hid behind a bush. One jiffy later, a dog was barking and yet Joe had the heart to come to it and let it go. Not to his expectation, the dog jumped on him and gave him a slurp. It gave him a very deep stare and “It’s you my boy!” Ruffles barked again, he was pretty messy after getting caught.
“You know what? Let’s find an empty van and get out of here, but I’m pretty sure there’ll be guys on the look out so try to be quiet,” he said to the dog. To his surprise there was actually a parked empty van. They quickly ran to it and without anybody noticing drove off into the wild back to the city.
The very next day, they quickly booked a ticket back to Honolulu and after getting off the plane:
“We got to get back to Dr. Gombini as soon as possible,” Joe thought to himself and drove back to his house. Dr. Gombini was sitting in a chair, like he was expecting Joe.
“Here, we have a serious problem, there’s a new organization called “Blamimals” who collect specimen of species even if it’s dead or alive.” Dr. Gombini then showed a picture of their logo. The logo was pretty intimidating, a skull with skeletons holding it up.
“I seem to have to call the police?”
“They are quite the sneaky ones, and the government can’t do anything about it because of their mysterious boss’s influence.”
“Next time, I think we should go investigate more about this.”
“Yeah, I’ll get some more data, because we are responsible for this too. Not only do we have to care, but we have to stop them as well.”
“We’ll see, there’s a way to stop those fools…” snickered Joe.
-Anonymous
I wanted to write this story because I seem to have a passion for animals that are endangered. Everything we come to this topic, I would freak out. Animals are just like us, they need love but some how, there are people in this world that are selfish. They like to hunt them and leave the animals squealing. I really hope I can do something about this in the future.
ReplyDeleteJumping the... Brass Knuckles Part 1
ReplyDeleteBlood cascades down from Mike's nose, running down his jugular. Raging fury is in his eyes as he struggles to get up. His opponent, Drake, hit him to the ground before he could get up, while Drake's brass knuckles glistens in the light, dripping with a bit of blood. Drake took off into a sprint so he wouldn't be caught, leaving Mike. That's where I decide to step in.
Pretending I just came upon the scene, I run up to Mike and made sure he was all right. "Mike, I'm going to go get the nurse, okay?"
He grunts then starts to shake his head. "No. I'm fine."
"Fine? You look like your face went through the washing machine!" I say with exasperation.
"I'm just going to go home and get some rest," he replies weakly. Mike then sits up and begins to limp away.
Later on, in the high school's halls, I see Mike getting his stuff from his locker. I go up to him and ask, "Hey, I thought you were going to go home?"
He narrows his eyes—like I'm the enemy—and responds, "I didn't get my homework yet. Back off." I see Brant, someone who sits next to Mike in English, coming through my peripheral vision; Mike uses this as an excuse to turn away.
I decide now is not the best time to question him and leave. But as I was walking away, I hear Brant give Mike some of his "miracle cream". Brant says it's should help alleviate Mike's wounds, which is like what it did to Brant when he was sick and injured.
I sigh and try to get through the school day, like every other student—it's been almost five hours since I've last seen Mike. Then, I see Drake walking through the hall. He seems to be scoping out the area— looking out for teachers, perhaps. He's pretty tall—being about six feet—and his hair was cut recently; the T-shirt he wears has a few dirt stains, while his jeans look like they're too big even with his burly build.
All of a sudden, he grabs the kid—I don't know his name—rummaging through his locker, and he punches the poor kid's face—I see a glimpse of light as he does so. His hand connects with his victim's solar plexus, and while a smirk appears on his face. The guy's face has blood all over with bruises starting to form, which is when Drake sees this an opportunity to go to his next class, impassive. Brant comes up from behind, seeming out of nowhere, and runs to give his ointment. I go up to ask a question, but Brant pushes me out of the way, smearing some ointment on the sleeve of my shirt. I cringe and decide to just go.
Jumping the... Brass Knuckles Part 2
ReplyDeleteMike hasn't been back since a month ago when I saw him getting beat up. His parents say he's sick with Staph, but that seems odd, considering he was fine (other than his broken nose) last I saw him. And the other guy I don’t know the name of has been apparently out sick with the same thing, too. So have other Drake's victims….
I decide to sneak into Drake's place while he's going out for a party (like he usually does on the weekends). I shimmy my way into his room through his window with some tools my dad had lying around. His room smells like old food with some Frebreeze—as if someone's trying to cover the stench. I scrunch my nose and start rummaging through his stuff. Seeing as though his past victims have been sick, I assume he has not only been beating them but perhaps poisoning them, too. I come up empty, but as I am biking to my house, I see Drake. He narrows his eyes at me while plodding along the sidewalk. I slow down and make a split second decision: question him.
I smile and say, "Drake?" He hesitantly turns his head towards me. "Can I ask you something?" He doesn't reply, but I continue, "I've been wondering why you choose to hurt those people."
"Look," he says, "I don't want to talk to you, but I'm not in a bad mood—the party I came back from was great. So I will they say that they deserve it. For reasons that are none of your business, of course." He then snickers and says, "But if you think that I am the cause for them being all sick… well, that's just not me." He treads away, leaving me in a little confusion. But he had to be the cause of it. I head back home to figure everything out and get a clear mind.
I look for patterns in Drake's prey, and all of them seem to have Staphylococcus, or Staph, which is a bacterial infection. I research more about it and look at the causes: pneumonia, food poisoning, skin infection, toxic shock syndrome, and—blood poisoning. That has to be it!
My mind starts to rush with emotions and ideas; it's very overwhelming. I take some deep breaths to calm myself, but that doesn’t help. I've figured this out! My first "case": solved!
Drake has been hitting his victims with his brass knuckles, and they always cause blood wounds. His brass knuckles must have Staphylococcus on them, and they're not clean so it keeps on spreading to Drake's prey. A smile twitches on my face, and when I look at my reflection on my computer screen, my grin beams and stretches further. I leave my things and head to the hospital, where Mike is to tell him my discovery.
It felt like a lifetime to bike all the way there—I didn't pass my drivers license test yet. I feel a wave a relief as I see it's visiting hours, and I start my way to Mike's room. Brant's in there as well, but he's sitting on a chair reading a magazine. The room smells sterile and like ammonia, which is not a surprise. Everything is white—walls, floor, ceiling, bed, sheets—, but Brant's blazing red shirt contrasts with everything.
"Hey, Mike!" I pronounce with elation.
He groans and asks why I'm here. I see that he's looking at some papers about his medical evaluation and inquire if I can see them, while pointing at the papers.
"I guess," he answers, handing me the papers. I scan through, confirming that what I thought was right. I look at the cause for the Staph that Mike has and gasp. Brant leaves to room and says he's going to get some food, and I run to my bike and go home, leaving the papers in Mike's room.
Jumping the... Brass Knuckles? Part 3
ReplyDeleteI shut my locker and lower my head against its door. Oh, great. I cannot believe I was so quick to judge. I then exhale and trudge to English. I can't seem to look at Drake because he was right when I questioned him.
"Okay class, we're going to have a workshop day in English today. I will make you all into groups of three or four, and you will all have to write a short essay on the topic I choose for you…." Mr. Sharpe goes on, but I tune his voice out of my mind. "Riley," I look up when he calls my name, "you will be with Brant, and your topic will be about impulsiveness." I try to hide a grimace and go to my group. What an ironic topic for us; it's still silly though.
Everything became a blur after that because for some reason, I start to yell. It's mostly at Brant because I accuse him for infecting everyone, but he deserves it. Next thing I know I'm over at the principle's office with Brant.
"Now, Riley, calm down. Please explain why you're upset," Principle Adams says calmly. Her face shows annoyance, but it looks like she's trying to hide it.
"Okay," I utter. "Brant—over there—has been the cause of the Staph infections. I'm not sure if it's intentional or not, but it's him. I know it. After every time each victim has been hurt, Brant's always there to give his 'miracle cream'. This 'cream' is infected with Staphylococcus, er, Staph, and it's been spreading because of him. You can check the medical records because the causes of everyone's Staph is a skin infection." Principle Adams considers my theory. I smirk.
Brant's body looks as if he's in shock. "W—wh—wha—,"he stutters, trying to defend himself. I give him a smug look, while he says again, "What the heck are you talking about? How could you accuse me like this? I didn't do it!" Sure he didn't.
I smile and hand some papers to the principle. "Look at these," I start. "They are results of the cultures of Brant's ointment. I had them medically examined after Brant accidentally brushed some ointment on my sleeve."
Principle Adams' thin eyebrows arch up, and she excuses me. I hear her calling Brant's parents on my way out. My smile looks like the Cheshire cat, wild with excitement, but I can't help it.
I'm glad I didn't blurt out my first idea about Drake being the culprit—I should apologize to him later—, but it's always good to make mistakes. Well, to learn from them at least.
Jumping the... Brass Knuckles Part 4 (Last)
ReplyDeleteIn English class, I relax and smile—it's been about a month since what Brant did, and he hasn't been back in school since. No more people he can harm anymore. In fact, there haven't been any more cases of skin infections since I caught him. The only sick cases so far have been with a couple of teachers last week, but that was just food poisoning.
Class is almost over, so I go over to Mr. Sharpe to talk about the assignment, and a half-eaten sandwich is on the side of his desk. He started it about an hour ago when class started, so why hasn't he finished it? He always devours his food in the first ten minutes of class. His hand is clutching his stomach, and his face is pale.
"Mr. Sharpe, are you okay?" I ask with worry in my voice.
"Hmm? Oh. Yes, I'm fine. Nothing for you to worry about," he responds weakly. His face turns a sickly green, and he buries his face in the trashcan. I can hear him retching.
"Mr. Sharpe, do you want me to get the nurse?"
"It's just food poisoning—I guess I caught it from the other teachers, eh?" he tries to joke about that, but I don't smile. He doesn't even talk to the other teachers. I know this because when I asked my History teacher if she knew where he was, she said that she had no idea and that he was sort of a recluse. I knit my eyebrows together.
"Do you know any of the other teachers that have been sick?" I start to interrogate.
He bites his lip and replies, "Not really, I guess. They don't talk much… like me, I guess." I consider this for a moment and ponder. How could all the teachers have been food poisoned if they don't even interact with one another?
Realization kicks in. That means that this is not accidental. What's going on?
~ RandomGirl KMC
What special trait about yourself made you want to write your short story?
I wanted to write this short story because I am interested in science, and I thought that it would be interesting to write a "medical mystery". I also enjoy watching TV shows that have to do with solving cases ("Bones", "Psych", etc) and reading books about similar topics as well, which is where the mystery idea comes from.
He wasn't supposed to notice me.
ReplyDeleteI was finally starting to accept the fact that I wasn't popular and probably never would be. I had friends, sure, but I wasn't one of those people who were invited to upperclassmen parties or never spent a moment without a boyfriend. I was just Marissa—the girl who was good at Spanish, played the flute, and danced ballet. I had my talents, and I had my weaknesses, but nothing was ever so special that I became known for it. Until that day when everything changed.
It was a Wednesday, my least favorite day of the entire week. The day when you're smack in the middle, so you're not refreshed like on Mondays or high off of the promise of the weekend on Fridays. You're just there trying to make it until Thursday, counting each second until your finally let out of school. Anyways, that Wednesday I had Spanish as my first class and, as usual, I was running late. My mom and little sister were never able to get up in time thanks to the hour commute we had to make each morning to get to school. By the time I finally got to school it was already 9:00—and my class started at 8:30. I was just about to walk in the door when I noticed that my bag was a lot lighter than usual. Oh no. I dashed back down the stairs towards my locker. How could I have forgotten my Spanish book?
Even though I was in a rush to get back to class, I still slowed down when I reached the rose bush right outside the building my locker was in. Today the gentle pink rosebuds were closed, still hiding from slightly nippy weather of fall.
The problem with being a freshman is that you always wind up with the leftovers of things. In dance, I was put in the back line even though I was better than a lot of the upperclassmen because of seniority. Freshmen have their lunch scheduled way after the seniors (we have to wait until 12:30!), and usually by then all of the food that's edible is gone. And my current problem—freshmen were always given bottom lockers. As I scrambled to get my combination (which, I'd like to mention, took me at least 10 tries) and snatched my Spanish book that was placed in the very back end of my locker, I didn't even notice that someone had opened the locker above me. So when I stood up I only had one second and then—SMACK! Everything went black.
ϖ
The next thing I remember was being in the Heath Center. The lights were dimmed, and I was lying on my back on a cot in one of the side rooms. I looked overhead, where color paintings had been taped onto the ceiling. I had a feeling they were made by Kindergarteners: their handwriting displayed some still developing motor skills, the spelling was a little off-- and the suns had smiles and sunglasses. I felt myself smile a little, and then a sharp pain on my head. Owww. I put my hand on my head. I pulled back as I felt the sudden chill of a bag of ice on my hand, and then everything started flashing back. Oh my gosh. I thought to myself. I glanced up at the clock. 9:45. As if completely missing Spanish wasn't bad enough, I was already 15 minutes late for my Algebra exam. I really hate Wednesdays. I quickly got my stuff together, which was luckily on the floor right next to my cot, and started towards the door.
"Oh! Marissa, you're awake. Good, good. How are you feeling?" The Nurse got up from her seat at her desk, where she had been typing something into to her dinosaur looking PC computer.
"I'm fine. I just need to get to my math test."
ReplyDelete"Good, good. Tyler said you hit the locker pretty hard."
"Can I have a note please?" I lightly touched my forehead, confirming the fact that it was still in a lot of pain.
"Of course." She grabbed one of those fake flower-pens from the vase on her desk and started writing on a piece of folder paper. Can she write any slower? I felt like she was double-checking to make sure all her "I"s and "T"s were perfectly crossed and dotted—that's how slow she was going.
When she finally passed me the note I ran out the door. I hadn't gotten two feet out the door when I heard a deep voice to my left.
"Hey!"
His body was the first thing I noticed, perfectly toned and a dark tan that I have always been something that attracts me to a guy. As I moved up his body I noticed his tall stature. He had good posture and nice shoulders, and I could almost see his abs popping through his baggy shirt. And then, just when it seemed like it couldn't get any better, it did. His blue green eyes, gentle and kind, popped against his warm tan. I could see the outline of his dimples, even though he wasn't smiling, and his messy dark brown hair fell in the perfectly places, framing his face. I recognized him. Tyler Martins. The beautiful, smart, and athletic Tyler Martins. The one all the girls swooned over. The one who was talking to me.
"Hello?" I saw his eyebrows start to rise and I snapped back into reality.
"Oh. H-h-hi." I felt my cheeks start to redden and I started walking forward, staring at the ground.
"Hey! Wait up!" I looked back and saw him jogging to catch up with me. "Hey. Are you okay? You took a pretty hard hit."
My cheeks flushed again, but I swallowed the nervous feeling down. I had been embarrassed enough for one day. "Not exactly how I would have wanted to start my Wednesday, but hey, it could have been worse." My stomach fluttered as I saw Tyler smile.
"You have class now?"
I glanced at my neon watch. "Math exam." I wrinkled my face. "But I'm already pretty late so I guess there's no point in going. What about you?"
"Yeah, I have Physics right now." He motioned to the classroom behind us. "Actually I should be getting back. We're learning Water Particle Duality today." I had no clue what that was, but nodded anyways.
"Well I guess I'll see you later then." I said, turning and slowly walking away.
"Wait!" I smirked and turned again, raising my eyebrows. "I never caught your name."
"I'm Marissa."
"Tyler. I guess I'll see you around then?"
I smiled and started turning. "As long as you promise not to hit me with your locker anymore." I looked up at him and we made eye contact, holding it a little bit longer than people who were just friends would before quickly looking away. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered.
He laughed a little. "Bye Marissa."
"Bye Tyler." As I turned I couldn't help but smile. I turned around and walked past the rose bushes. I warm ray of light had fallen on them, and the buds were slowly opening up.
ReplyDeleteϖ
Skip to next Wednesday. Of course, I was running late again, and, of course, I didn't have my Spanish book. It was like déjà vu of the week before. I ran over to my locker and started scrambling the combination when I heard him.
"Forgot something again?" I looked up and saw Tyler, dressed in a Purple Hurley T-shirt with jean shorts and a pair of black vans. His dimple was showing through his half smile.
"How you'd know?" I rolled my eyes.
"Lucky guess." He held out a package. "Here."
I cocked my head. "… What is it?" I pulled out a twist donut. Odd. Was he physic or something? I squinted my eyes at him. "Wait. This is weird."
He looked genuinely confused. "What? I felt bad about last week. And my parent's own a bakery…"
My eyes widened. "Martin Bakery?! I love that place!"
Tyler nodded. "That's them."
That Wednesday was the start of a tacit routine between Tyler and I. I would come late for Spanish, and even when I didn't have to get my Spanish book, I would still run over to my locker where he'd be waiting. Tyler would usually bring me a donut and something for himself, and we'd sit against the lockers and talk. We'd talk about anything and everything. I learned that he was a junior this year. He had 2 brothers— Troy and Matt. His parents wanted him to take over the family business, but Tyler wanted to be an artist. He loved Claude Kelly, peaches, and blue, and hated tomatoes. He learned things about me too, and not just that I loved playing the flute. We eventually talked about deeper things. He learned about my old "friend" who stole my boyfriend at the beginning of high school, something I never talked to anyone about because it hurt so badly. We never missed a Wednesday—from the one Wednesday in September, we always met in front of the lockers, and eventually I'd be there every morning, waiting for him. Time passed by faster than I ever would have thought, and before I knew it, I was falling for him. And I thought he was too, until that Wednesday.
Ω
The first bad sign was how distracted he was the Wednesday before. When I got there, Tyler was sitting there, brown bag of pastries clutched in one hand just as always. The only problem was that he didn't even see me walk up. And when we started talking, the conversation was uncomfortably tense, until everything just snapped.
We had been sitting together for a while, but our conversation had unusually come to a halt. I sighed and glanced over at the rose bush. The school sprinkler system had been broken for a few days, and the rose bush was taking the most impact. The once bright green leaves were slowly but surely fading their way to brown, and rosebuds and petals littered the ground instead of adding a pop of color to the plant. The silence between us was deafening.
"I hate Valentine's Day." I blurted. I thought this would be the good way to break the silence. But I was wrong. "And you know the worst part? This year it falls on a Wednesday. Of course." Sighing, I picked off a piece of donut.
"It's worse for us guys." Tyler snapped. His eyes quickly darted away. "You girls get all worked up, expecting us to put in all the work to make it great, and then you're disappointed when nothing happens."
ReplyDelete"I never said I was expecting anything."
"Good because nothing is going to happen."
My throat started to close. Why would he say something like that to me? He knew that I never really had anything involving boys work out for me. I was about to leave, but he beat me to it.
He never even said goodbye.
It was Valentine's Day, and I was at my locker. As I looked out past the building I saw couples hand in hand, holding colorful flower bouquets or cute teddy bears that sang. Sighing, I glanced at my watch, clutching my Spanish book in my other hand. I had been there for 15 minutes already, but Tyler was a no show. I should have known. My mind drifted back to the Wednesday before. I cried so much that night. How stupid was I to think that he actually might have felt something for me? To think that maybe he could still look at my broken, imperfect self but still find a way to love me.
Stupid Freshmen.
I looked over at the rose bush, the only slightly comforting element in this world that made me feel like I was the only one without someone who cared about me. Physical Plant had finally gotten around to fixing that system, and the roses were thriving. As if on cue, the flowers were in full bloom just in time for the lovers' holiday, the petals swirling around on each other, creating a beautiful intricate design that ended in a swirl in the center.
Tyler and I reached the swirl. I thought to myself. It was over. I didn't know why or how, but Tyler and I weren't the same anymore. I turned around to leave.
"Marissa."
He came from behind me, with a single red rose in his hand. He looked nervous, but thrilled at the same time. Even still, he had the now familiar wax paper bag in his other hand, and I could make out the twisted shape of the donut.
"I know you hate Wednesdays," he told me, "But I couldn't wait." Tyler got on one knee. "Will you be my girlfriend?"
Wednesdays are my favorite now.
I wanted to write this story because I'm just like the main character. I hate Wednesdays and I love flowers. ☺