Jessica Hall

**UNIQUE**

*I dance around*
*And spin and fly,*
*As the world falls away,*
*But when the music stops,*
*I come back to the ground.*
*Looking, glancing, I take a bow,*
*Then run and leap,*
*Through the curtain I go.*

*Another spotlight,*
*Trained on me.*
*I look at the mat and breathe.*
*One, two, three.*
*I run, I fly, I flip, and dive,*
*Twisting, turning,*
*Oblivious to my audience.*
*I finally finish, shining so bright*
*That the spotlight need not be on me.*
*I walk away, through a door*
*To find a cluttered desk.*

*I sit down, pencil in hand.*
*I think and think and think again.*
*I wonder. Poems? Books—*
*Books bring me to faraway places.*
*I read and I write,*
*I hold and I hang.*
*I get lost in a maze,*
*A maze of books on shelves.*
*Yet the words of the books,*
*They speak, they guide me.*
*I find my way out,*
*Hoping to come back tomorrow.*

*All of these pieces,*
*They make a puzzle.*
*It takes time, yes,*
*To put them all together.*
*But once it’s finished*
*You’ll see who I am,*
*And how I am unique.*

**LEAP**Leap.Such a small word.People use,People do.A leap. Of what?Of joy?Of faith?Of love?

CHANGE

Change is a thing.
A thing some don't like.
A thing some do.
Some welcome change.
They greet it as if it were
A long-lost friend
That came knocking
At their front door.
What is change?
Is it yours? Is it mine?
Who controls change?
Does anyone?

SNOW OWL
White snow.Owl white.Silent owl.Fly, soar, do not be seen.Hidden prey found.Frozen feathers warm.What is itTo perch upon ice,Branches of snow.Expand your wings,Meadows of snowFalling away as you rise.

**Fly**
Fly.
A bird. A plane.
A freedom some can't have.
Soaring,
Through the clouds.
Looping, spinning.
Gliding endlessly,
Not feeling cold.
Feeling free.
Fly.

**Invisible**
I see a girl that no one sees.
Through the crowd,
Through the noise.
Her face is hollow,
Her sad eyes pleading:
Help me. Feed me. Take me.
As I walk by,
I stop.
The world rushes by,
Not noticing
The precious seconds
Of mine being spent
On someone invisible.

***Cat**by Jessica Hall*-Fluffy, furry,Your tail, back and forth.Plushy, purry,Happiness and warmth.-You snuggle with meWhen I am sad,You dance with meWhen I am glad.-Falling asleep in my lap,Sleeping so, so sound.Taking a small catnap,A soft, silken mound.
***Cat II***
Pointy ears,Snowy paws,Razor sharp but gentle claws.-Slowly breathe,Each one new,Stepping through the morning dew.-Wander, hunt,Through the trees,Crouch down low and feel the breeze.

**SNOW LEOPARD**
Majestic wonder,In the snow,Soft prints,Who will know?-Spotted pelt,Searching eyes,You look likeYou’re from the skies.-A shadow, a ghost,of mountains long gone,Melting into the hills,Hunting in the midst of dawn

Link to my friend's and my book, *Maroon and Me*
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LNGnyGAhpIOBWS\_c-5CepmTITp0GTXZrfsOrFn05ors/edit?usp=sharing

*SECOND MARKING PERIOD BELOW*

**Blue Silk - *by Jessica Hall***
*I ran through the birch forest dodging the plentiful amount of trees in front and to the sides of me. I slowed down when I saw a figure hunched over in the ferns. Red streaks ran down his head and crawled along his back. Realizing it was blood, I crept froward a few more inches, hardly daring to breathe. Somehow not being careful enough, I managed to step on one of the very scarce twigs lying on the tightly-knit birch forest floor. Not muffled much by the soft moss underneath, the snap of the stick made the mysterious man look up. What I saw made me gasp for breath. The man had no face - not even empty sockets for eyes. The figure seemed not at all dazed by the wound in his head, and so he stood up and started slowly towards me. Scarcely able to breathe, I backed away. My eyes locked on the strange, demonlike figure, I accidentally tripped over a fallen birch. Clawing through the mud and dirt, I scrambled to get to my feet. My feeble attempts to stand had failed me - the creature had reached me, and was looming over me, its faceless appearance all the more sinister. Not know what else to do, I kicked and flailed at its body. When my foot made contact with the place where its face should've been, it made a horrifying, terrible, unearthly scream. A freezing white mist circled the figure as it staggered away, and suddenly it erupted into black smoke, leaving nothing but a cold, hard blackened locket. I picked up the locket and slipped it over my neck. Shuddering as a chill enveloped me, I started running again, sprinting away from something I couldn't outrun. But what was it? I shook my head as nasty, unexplainable thoughts began swarm in my head, as if I could clear my mind by doing that. I dashed into a clearing, far larger than any I've seen before. And in front of me, smack in the center of the glade, was a nightmarish scene. A building - or what*used *to be a building - was towering over all of even the highest treetops. It had crumbling gray concrete walls with burnt and splintered wooden beams jutting out of it's open top, its roof collapsed on the inside. Sharp iron bars lay interspersed around the spine-chilling scene, like poisonous barbs threatening to end your life with a single prick. What looked like half-constructed cranes were scattered around the concrete building, wrecking balls dangling precariously from their tips. I approached the center structure cautiously, but I stopped. I had seen a blue flash at the top of the structure. A flag? No. It was a blue silk scarf. Why was that so chilling to me? I shook my head clear. My fingers barely brushed the building's wall when I heard it. A crack, louder than the loudest gunshot, sounded behind me. I whipped around, expecting to find someone lurking in the trees, but instead found the birch forest, now becoming even more shadowed with the darkening light. I glanced back at the wall and stumbled back at what I saw. A hole the size of a small beach ball had formed in the it, exactly at the same height as my head. I looked through the hole, seeing only dark and shadows. Suddenly I heard many cracking noises and I realized that the wall was collapsing. I was to late to see it coming and the wall came crashing down on me.*

**BUBBLE**
[KATHERINE]
My name is Katherine Frederick. I lived in the only City there was - at least, that's what I thought.
"Okay class, quiet down," Mrs. DePallo said. Mrs. DePallo is my science teacher - the best there is. "On Monday we are going to start a new unit. We are going to learn about our City." Everyone groaned. Everyone, that is, except for me and my friend, Ella Geranium.
One boy, Tommy, shouted, "Isn't that for Mr. Berny?" Mr. Berny is our social studies teacher.
"No, actually there is more science to our City that history," Mrs. DePallo snapped. "I believe that everyone will find all of this quite interesting. We start on Monday," she finished as the bell rang.
An ocean of yelling, screaming students spilled into the hallway. I grabbed my backpack and raced to Ella's locker. As usual, her pink hair was tied up in a tight bun, her long bangs framing the sides of her pale face. A red geranium flower peeked out from behind her left ear. I sighed. "Your hair is so pretty. I'm stuck with this ugly blue."
"It's not ugly," Ella said absently, still peering into her locker, probably looking for one of her library books.
"Which one have you lost this time?" I asked impatiently. "We're going to be locked inside!"
Ella looked up. She grinned, "Oh, this time it's not a library book. I have all fourteen of them. It's this that I was looking for." She held up a small box, probably containing her earrings. I glanced at her ears and was puzzled when I saw her sparkling pink tourmaline stone earrings pinned firmly in them. "Now come on, we're going to my house for a sleepover, remember?"
I smiled broadly. "How could I have forgotten?"
We skipped down the many streets of tightly-knit houses, each displaying a different color flag. Each one flag was different, customized to fit the family, its main color the family's hereditary hair color. Since the name 'Frederick' means 'a peaceful ruler,' ours was sapphire blue with a golden crown. Six olive green gemstones were on the face of the crown, both the six and the olive green representing peace, and the crown representing a ruler.
We rounded a corner and saw Ella's family's flag fluttering in the breeze - a cheerful pink banner with red geranium flowers in the center. The red geraniums meant determination - and, surprisingly enough, that was Ella's nature.
I skipped inside and saw that my mother had already dropped off my bubblebag. A bubblebag is a floating bubble that's about the size of a beach ball. It follows its owner, carrying anything, really. In my case it held my sleeping bag, my pajamas, my clothes for the next days, and my toothbrush.
"Ooh, I'm sooo glad you're staying for three nights!" Ella squealed. "MOM!!! We're ho-ome!" she yelled up the stairs.
Appearing at the top of the banister, Mrs. Geranium said, "Oh, Ella, please don't yell in the house." Smiling at me, she said, "Katherine, how nice it is to see you again!" Ella rolled her eyes.
"Mom," she groaned. "You saw her two days ago at the bake sale!"
"Oh, you never know when you might see a specific individual again," Ella's mom said mysteriously.
"What do you mean, 'again'?" I asked, intrigued.
"Oh, you'll learn soon enough. The teacher administration informed me that you're starting a new unit in science. You'll find it very . . . interesting." And with that, she left the balcony and strode into a room, shutting the door behind her.
"Oh, well," Ella shrugged. "I guess we'll have to wait until Monday."
I sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Anyways, what do you have planned for our special weekend?"
"Well I've given it careful thought, and decided to have a theme," Ella replied grinning. I didn't like the sound of where this was going. "Any guesses?"
I groaned. Oh why did I let her pick and plan our special every-other-weekend sleepover theme? Oh . . . yeah. I had just finished planning a huge surprise party for my friends April and Avalla, the sweetest pair of twins in the school. I was exhausted from the planning and secrets and dreaded the thought of planning another event. I had willingly let Ella take over.
"I assume that is a no. *Drum roll, please* . . . so, without further ado, the theme you've all been waiting for . . . the Truth-or-Dare-Fashion-Show-Drama-Makeup-Fun-Weekend!" Ella made the whole announcement ten times sillier by making a show by dramatically sweeping her arms and doing a cartwheel, crashing down halfway through.
I smiled, though I still didn't want Ella to be in charge, but I had to face the fact that I had given up planning the weekend. I gulped because I knew Ella planned this whole thing to use on me. Every single one of those words in her super-long theme was one of my weaknesses.
Ella was still on the floor giggling when she said, "Wow. You're awfully quiet. Are you ready to embrace your inner Truth-or-Dare-Fashion . . . " she rattled off the list of things included in the weekend's theme.
## I nodded, resigned.
"Great!" she squealed right away. "I have a schedule all planned out; first, we'll do makeup and some fashion shows, then we'll do some performing and acting, and tonight we can do truth or dare. I might add in some stuff, too. And the best part is -- we get to do this for *three* nights in a row!!"
She grabbed my wrist and pulled me to her room. I quickly slid off my backpack before being dragged up the stairs and into Ella's room. My bubblebag floated behind me. When we got to the top, I stationed it outside of the bedroom.
"Come on, come on!" Ella urged, ushering me inside. She plopped me down onto her director chair. "Now," she said, holding out a jar with slips of paper in it. "Pick one."
I reached in a took out the first one I felt. I opened it up and read what it said: ***Miss Bauletta Lauretta [Dolly]***. Huh?
"Miss Bauletta Lauretta?" I asked. "Who is that and what does that mean?"
"Oooh!" Ella squealed in delight. "You got Bauletta! And as Dolly!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, how can you *not* know who Miss Bauletta Lauretta is?"
"Um . . . "
"She is the most famous movie star in the entire City!"
My eyes widened. "The *entire* City?"
Ella nodded. "Yup! I can't believe you don't know who she is -- she's basically in every single modern movies these days."
"Oh! So she's that actress that played Angel in the Starlight Fight series? And the one who plays Danielle in that TV show, Daniel vs. Danielle?"
"Yes! And remember that mystery movie about the girl getting framed for robbing really valuable dolls from an old antique store?"
"Oh yeah! So Miss Bauletta Lauretta played Dolly?"
"Yup! So that's who you're going to be dressed up as first!"
"*What?*" I yelped.
"Shh!" Ella hushed. "Don't worry. You'll be my model. I just need you to stay here while I go put together an outfit."

* **Link to my Firestine and Medeive story:**

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1K3vxbODsPKbzKAvHYEjpGBG2kaVGm58Q2Xj6pyrEmLc/edit?usp=sharing

PRONUNCIATION SHEET
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1AbDMxQQcaIbrWMaLsRQI2BxvNg9xIc5vsK1MHL35R-M/edit#gid=0

* Link to my Random Short Stories page:
* (warning: the stories may contain some unsavory cuss words)

https://docs.google.com/a/ucfsd.net/document/d/1yVUVR9yL\_11PhX2QEZvTA8dV0JykFcl-z-J1zBKaha0/edit?usp=sharing

**SHELL LIMERICK**
All polka-dotty,
Shiny and spotty.
A wonderful hut,
Not one bit of smut,
And in lived a snail who was naughty

**ELLA GERANIUM [BUBBLE] LIMERICK**
Ella Geranium is silly,
She's pretty as a lily.
She can perform tricks,
Cartwheels over bricks.
With a personality like chili.

**PENELOPE CLUNDERWICK [F&M] LIMERICK**
Penelope Clunderwick's
Ancestors made candlesticks.
She attends Firroyal,
To Firestine, she's loyal.
And when stealing, she's not quick.

***FOURTH MARKING PERIOD BELOW - also, 4th marking period is in the Firestine & Medeive story, too, starting at Chapter 21***

## Single Blossom
I sit alone, atop a hill
With the wind whistling
Like the lumberjack
In the woods behind me.
The icy tendrils
Of the windy air
weaving inside my branches.
I see the other trees
swaying in the breeze.
Unlike me,
They are not the one in
Bloom.

Everyday Lake:
I pass the lake just like I always do,
Looking out the window of the orange van.
I notice again,
That fog
Clinging to the lake's glazed surface
Like steam clinging to a kettle.
I wonder if it's a cloud,
Graying with age,
Aging as it hovers over an
Everyday lake.

Music:
You fly through me,
Sending shivers of awe.
Beautiful and foreign.
Sometimes words are a
Loss.
How to describe a sound
All mixed in with others?
Always whispering messages
Through singer's lips
And blended notes.
You have inspiration
Woven into each
Beat.
Measure.
Song.
Music.

Underwater
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
*A bubble floats*
*silently*
*to the surface.*
*No sound.*
*A silver cloud*
*of fish in school*
*swims past, moving as*
*one.*
*A rainbow of color flashes*
*like a disco ball.*
*Thousands of fish swim*
*through every day,*
*each one like the next.*
*Each one underwater.*

*From the sunshine yellow corn in the summer,*
*And reaching across the table,*
*Trying to grab the syrup for our Daddy Waffles*
*With our little hands.*

*From the fluffy cloud-like pink bear*
*That sat in my room, all day, everyday.*
*Who withstood the sunshine*
*That erased his color.*

*From my stuffed dog,*
*Whom I rode down the stairs with my brothers,*
*To my newspaper-colored cat who stayed with me for*
*So long.*

*From my grammy that Nick and I would color,*
*As if she were our blank coloring book,*
*Waiting to be filled.*
*From my grandma and pop-pop,*
*Who gave us perfectly popped popcorn.*
*Salty, buttery, crunchy.*

*From skipping hand in hand with my friends,*
*Passing the school walls that told stories*
*With their painted, glassy murals.*

*From being the flower bud waiting to bloom,*
*And throwing the rose petals down the aisle,*
*Waiting for the bride, my cousin,*
*To step slowly over them with the*
*Blinding snowy dress trailing river-like behind.*

*From the tree, I'm the apple, still waiting to fall.*
*Still waiting, always, to fall not far from the tree.*

A clear whistling noise cut through the air.

“Blue!” I cried, seeing my familiar. “Where have you been?”

It made no reply, but instead swooped onto my shoulder. As its wing brushed the three blue gems studded beside my left eye, I was whisked away from the alley where I was standing.

I was now a bird, soaring through the air. I had no control over what I was doing, so I simply let myself be carried with the bird as it wove in and out of the silver skyscrapers. I landed in an alleyway in the North District, and from where I perched on the ledge of a building, I could see a girl with night-black skin prowling around. I shivered as I saw her Gem Familiar, a dark panther, follow her. A red finch sat on her shoulder. The girl, like me, had three gems next to her left eye, but these were red. Also similar to me, she had a gem studded into each palm of her hand, and although her feet were covered by tall black boots, I knew that she, too, had a gem in the top of each foot. Unlike me, however, I had blue gems, as blue as the sky, while hers were a deep blood red.

As the panther’s red gaze shifted towards me, I was suddenly back in the alley before I became a bird. “Blue . . . was that you?” I asked, shaken by what I saw. The blue bird tilted its head at me and blinked its beady black eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” I groaned. “Onex is after me *again*.” I paused. “Well, I guess she’s always after me."

King of the Trees

Reaching farther,
Grab branch, up.
Like a bird,
High in the treetops.
The King, His
Majesty of the air.
The boy reaches,
*One more . . .*
Grab branch,
Up, up!
But his
Outstretched fingers
Miss.
And
He
Falls.

blink, blink, two cat eyes
peer over glistening lake,
watching full moon rise.

a wavy squiggle
shows roaring ocean waters.
a loud, bold lion.

the red-gold-green leaves
reflect the start of summer.
rustle in the breeze.

monotonous drone
goes on through the silent class.
murmurs are banished.

a splotch of blank ink
transforms into a story.
adventure portal.

magical flower.
with wings of white magic, does
falling petal dance.

melted chocolate,
thick, the last piano note
hums deep in the air.

*POTATO IN THE BREEZE:*
*(for Claire, **THE** potato)*

*potato rise,*
*like the dimpled moon,*
*soaring on wings of heat,*
*into the cooking book.*
*bing!*
*it's done.*
*come on out*
*to cool of in the breeze,*
*before meeting an end*
*in **THE** potato's mouth.*