Nandhini Parthasarathy

Restoration of the End
I joined the program at age 6, which is pretty impressive if I must say so myself. SSNC (Super Spies National Center) only hires the best of the best, but I got in easier because my mom is the assistant chief. When I got my first task last month, because now I am at the official age of 8, I had no idea how much danger I would be in. The note came in a glittery note card that looked like a birthday invitation with a sparkly pineapple on the front cover. Inside there was one sentence that gave no information away, ‘The sparkly pineapple that went bonkers.’ I was so confused about the sentence that described my whole mission. Right then, the TV turned on and had a Afele’s murder mystery on the cover page CNL. My eyes squinted a lot to see the pineapple on the corner of the Afele’s portrait, and underneath that picture there was a gold plaque that said Pineapple bonkers, and that’s when a spark formed in my brain. My job was to figure out who killed Afele. This part stumped me because the Agency never asked a question that shallow, right than I knew there was a deeper meaning beneath her murder. Ring, ring, ring. The phone rang and I peered down at the caller ID it was Ryan, my best friend. The phone stopped ringing suddenly and was masked by an ominous voice that sounded like a demon, and “Burn the paper you got. I am warning you if you get involved in this case you won’t see the light of it.” I shut the phone off and ran all the way from my house two blocks down to Ryan’s, and I didn’t even knock instead I just barged in. Ryan was sitting next to the TV, staring at the phone, and with one look into my eyes, I knew something was wrong. He didn’t have his eyes filled with light, instead it looked like the light was sucked out of him. I knew then the masked ghoul had went too far.

Where I’m From

I’m from cards,

From Ace to Kings

Which are dealt back and forth until someone wins

I’m from the spine-chilling black cave

(6 by 6, Dark, Locked, and Cold)

Where indignant fear is found

In my busted soccer cleats

From’ Playtech’s Yellow Striped Car safety comforted me

Which I drove in and around the house

Till nap at 2.

I am from snow and sun

Embracing my rosy cheeks

Cold water running down my back

Until 6 months later summer suffices my need for warmth

With salty water starting from inside me, crashing out

Leading to the ocean

I’m from milk

Which I’ve grown to despise

From skim to almond

And even fat-free

I’m from all types of mundane dirt

Mulch, soil, even some types of manure

Under my nails and my feet

A brown substance will arise.

I am from magic

Till the clock strikes 12

The evil Queen Who corners me

And I slay the beast

From wizards wands and witches hats

An incipient spark formed

From’ the laughs and giggles I gained

While dancing in the rain

With pink and blue butterfly boots

And family all around

I’m from Kohls and Walmart

Where I always get lost

From getting called to the front of the store

To see my parents frowning faces.

From hazed clouds

That fill my head as I sit and ponder

I’m from spotlights and red carpets

That appear in my dream

Covered in glitz and glamour

That shields me away from the black asphalt I walk on.

I’m from clear tears

That shed from my sight

Each one held a moment which I cherish

And now as I shed, I smile.

***Apples+Bananas=Math***
As I am sitting in math class, my stomach growls with hunger, and I am forced to remind myself that lunch is only in 20 minutes. My test lies on the teacher’s desk waiting to be graded while my eyes wander to distant areas in the room. In spite of true boredom , I decide to count the number of tiles on the ceiling, Done. 32 rectangular, and 9 of those plastered with lights. My head drags itself, because of gravity, towards the tan, eraser dust covered desk, and feels the coolness of it chill my hands and face till I’m covered in goosebumps. Its then I remember how many people’s face have touched this same, exact desk, and I pull away from it. A couple thoughts, seconds, and moments pass by and the hunger in my stomach doesn’t seem to go away. Tom make matters worse, the kid next to me reads and ripples the pages numerous times to create this obnoxious sound of a little baby farting. He is silenced by a death-defying glare soon given by the teacher, and thus math class resumes again. Though silent, I hear everybody’s thoughts from ‘Man, I SOOOO bombed this test!’ to ‘That was easy. Easy A once’ again’. The teacher now wonders to the front of the room, looming down on every unripe soul. She pears to see whom she can yell at, she spots one kid in the corner, and soon it’s like cheetah versus turtle, it’s not really fair. I peer once again to the clock and my empty stomach turns these numbers into Roman Numerals, my eyes flash back and read the numbers as if there are still ten minutes left in class. I clear the thoughts racking in my brain, and the thought of sleep reels me in.

Going Bananas!
Bob swings from tree to tree, and slowly, he stops to turn back. BOOM! They shoot, barely miss his head, and continuing the chase, still aiming for him. Slipping from the slippery vine, he falls branch to branch; 30 feet down. Hitting the ground, Bob hears the large thud of his own furry, plush monkey body, booming through a green, thick forest, and suddenly, his body goes limp, pain searing through his two foot by three foot body. The tail attached to his behind, was wound up like on of those windup dolls, hinting at paralyzation, and before his eyes closed, Lorem Ipsum hollered, “FREEZE!!!” over all the helicopters pointing toward Bob.
1 WEEK LATER
“WAAAAKKKKEEE UP!!” barked a blurry figure. Eyes opening, and closing, with pain overloading any emotion, Bob tries to regain his focus on the organism, from the Eukarya domain, in front of him. As he regains his consciousness, fear strikes through his mark making his tiny monkey body shake in fear, he has been here before. He tries to imagine himself eating a delicious, creamy banana float sundae with some banana gummies and banana flavored whipped cream on top in his head, but nothing can calm him from the fate that lays in front of him. This decision had no happy ending, if he tells the truth he dies, if he lies he still dies.
“Well, didn’t you hear me, you pathetic little ape, GGEETTTT UP!!! This is why we should have shot him and not paralyzed him, at our first chance.” The only thoughts after that remark running through little Bob’s head was, ‘I’m an orangutan, not an ape, you ignorant homo sapien.”

Going Downhill
**She runs around the pristine, new, sparkling white counter, to happy to notice its beautiful present. Once, twice, then a third time, with her sister behind her. With colorful powder in one hand she reaches out to grab Sofia, her sister. Melody with the powder in her hand, pivots using her one foot to outsmart the other. Not noticing, Sofia runs straight into the refrigerator. Crashing down immediately, she feels the scorching pain and the yell of her mother’s, but her eyes close before she figures out more. Blink, blink. Her eyes open, but no else part of her body moves a muscle. She twitches her back to become more comfortable instead she glances at a red line running from end of her shoulder to the other. The burning, firing pain is as painful as fire ants in your pants. A looming concern overshadows her pain, and she finds herself asking the question of who am I? Sofia’s mother rushes over to see her daughter’s confused face. With tears of happiness in her eyes, she embraces her daughter. Sofia’s body grimaces as the contact hurts her body. Realizing that, her mother releases almost immediately. Now she asks, “Are you feeling okay?” I reply with a hoarse voice of, “Yeah, but where’s Melody?” Almost instantly her smile turns into a frown at the sight of hearing Melody’s name.**

**QUARTER 4**

Sound of Music
It’s Saturday Movie night, and my turn to pick a movie. My sister and I always argue about what movie to watch, and even though it’s my turn she got to choose. I am usually so upset about this, but this time she picked a movie I also like, Sound of Music. The movie started its rolling credits with upbeat music when I suddenly heard from the microwave the sound of popcorn POP, POP. I screamed really freaked out because right before this movie we told haunted stories, on this day of Halloween. My whole family started laughing really loud, making fun of me.
I lost sight of the movie and started to daydream. In the middle of the movie everybody started laughing, I wondered why. That’s because I somehow threw a bunch of popcorn on top of myself, covering every inch of my body except my face. My sister was so obsessed with the movie. I came up with an idea to get back at my sister for laughing at me. Back to the drawing board, I pondered about my sisters discrepancies, and there were a lot to choose from. Singling on one, I put my idea into place in the kitchen.
=

=

**BUZZER!!**

I catch the ball
12-13, the score,
And gaze right to the time that’s left
5,4,3, and 2
Time seems to slow down
And seconds seem like minutes
One more basket I say
As I zoom across the court
The basketball seems more bouncy
People run in slow mo too
They close up on me
And I stop.
Peer around myself
To see my fans
They cheer me on
My hands steady as I square up to the rim
Fingers grasp around the edge
I take a deep breath
Sigh, a breath of discomfort
The ball leaves my hand
The game resumes
Faster than before
In the middle of the air
The buzzer goes off
And screams no more
The ball shoots towards the hoop
Which seems smaller than ever.
It touches the rim
My eyes close for a second
And open to see
The ball miss the basket.

=

=

MISTER, MISTTTTEEEERRRR...

He pounds his way through the soft styrofoam of my heart. He yells and tears at my deep soft soul. The pain is insufferable, don’t know what to do. Crying doesn’t help, but it does subdue. I run through the maze of life, hoping to find an ending that I can strife. “There’s the end,” my mind says, but the beast beats me to it and says, “ You’re DEAD!”
He opens my shield that protects me from crumbling, and down goes me, on my knees and groveling. The beast has a name that I used to love, but that was before I knew what he was made of, or lack thereof. He’s the one I used to bother, making him my one and only father. (Synonyms are DAD, DADDY, POP, or HOMESLICE)

Thankfully It’s Not Thanksgiving
“Well back to school… I guess.” I, Melissa Holcomb, am NOT looking forward to start school again. My cousins and relatives just left, and dad just unassembled our foosball table for another month of good grades, late nights, and HOMEWORK. It's not like I had no friends in school to despise it so much. It just meant me going up against my most “favorite” person in the ENTIRE world. Let me just clarify, I hate this person. This despicable person is Maxwell Grenville the Third, or as I like to call him Maxwell Grenville the Turd. I mean that kid is like the most hated person in school, but that is because of me. I literally rule the school with my brain, my fashion, and well… with my awesomeness. He started this rivalry with me in the 3rd Grade, and why, I don’t know. That’s is a long time for a rivalry since I’m in 9th Grade, and ever since then, he has been trying to ruin my life.
“Honey, stop daydreaming, and could you put those chairs in the basement.” My dad points towards a bunch of chairs neatly stacked in the corner of the kitchen. I grudgingly walk over and carry them down to the basement.”Ahh, the basement” This basement was the structure of my amazing childhood. My sister and I would always play with each other. My sister touches a rough subject. I remember when we were younger she was my role model, I only looked up to her. She had a GREAT life. Why, may you ask, am I speaking about her in past tense? Well, that's because last year my family had a devastating loss of my sister and my mother in a car crash. It angers me every time I think about it. Just cause there was a drunk driver on the road I lost half of my family. Now, it's only me and my dad that's left. I used to think, when I was younger, and my brain wasn't fully developed, that the Turd had something to do with my mother's and sister's passing, but, now, I'm sure of it.

**UNKNOWN**
I type as fast as I can to get my last words on this page, but my writing turns into one big blob. “I have five seconds till that hideous creature bursts into my room. I count in my head in a scared, fragile voice. Five, four, three, two, one. The screeching of the beast damages my ear, as it hollers my name. ‘JJJJUUUUUDDDYYY???!!!! WWWHHHEEERRREEE AAARRREEE YYYOOOUUU!!!!’ I rapidly try to think of a solution, but alas my brain doesn’t have the capacity.”
“Heyyyy!! Is that me you’re writing about?” I turn around startled, not knowing that Martha had been there. Martha is my neighbor, and according to my mom, she’d my best friend. Thanks, but I can make my own friends, Mom! Of course, she doesn’t believe me. But I don’t blame her. I’m kind of known for being an outcast, writing, and writing, and ohh what else… WRITING!!! But hey I can’t help it, it’s my passion. The stories I write talk about my life in a weird, psycho way, and I hate to break it to you, but Martha’s right. That story was about her, and i was the Judy. Yup, in real life, my name is Judy Marigold Miranda Fitzpatrick. Long, right? I snap back to reality, hesitating.
I grudgingly get out of my cotton blanket, which wraps around me at night. Martha suddenly grabs my arm, and pulls me out of my room. Then, throws me on the ground. As I am throbbing in pain, she spits out in a hasty tone, “ Where’s my precious, you LITTLE SNEAK!!!!!!!” I had no idea what she was talking about. Out of nowhere she grabs me really tight and her face starts to turn into a new shade of red, and her eyes go white, and suddenly everything goes black. The last question my mind can process is; what’s happening next?

Happy Birthday!
The clock ticks, and the second hand slowly scooches forward almost reaching 60 seconds. As it hits the 60 second mark, the time turns into 12, as in 12 o’clock at night. My door bursts open and May barges through, and she sits on my bed, crushing my toes underneath her. “Owwww!” I yelp in pain. She nods it off, as this has become a yearly routine, and then she screams as loud as she can into my ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ABBY!” I couldn’t help but grin, at the sight of my little sister’s joy. I was turning 12 years old at 12 o’clock, ironic, right. Actually though, it’s not ironic. For some reason the McPatrick family have been known to have weird birth times. For example, my sister, May, at the exact time of 6 o’clock. Also, according to the LONG McPatrick’s family handbook, the year of your birth time brings hazardous disaster to you. That was the reason I dreaded getting out of bed today. That reason, plus I had school today, and that definitely couldn’t pull me out of my cotton bedsheets sandwiching me with my perfect, fluffy mattress.
My smile washed from my face, and I pulled my head under my covers as I groaned. May’s smile grew into a concern and said, “Why aren’t you happy? It’s your birthday!” Seeing the worry on my face, as my eyes peeked out from under my bed sheets, she quietly whispered, “Is THIS is your year of bad luck!” She then put a proud smile on her face and proclaimed, “Don’t worry, Ab! I won’t let anything happen to you!” I smartly replied, a slight too harsh, “Don’t you remember what happened to Dad, on his year?” I instantly felt bad because my Dad had that day discovered he had leukemia. He soon was discharged because the doctors claimed that he was free of the disease. Surprisingly, the doctors predicated wrong, and in the beginning of June this year, he died with a severe case of leukemia that grew in his body, which was undetectable. The side effect of the curse is that the ‘year of bad luck’ could harm the future of you, like my dad’s case. That didn’t suppress my fear of this year. It wasn’t all that bad though because my mom wasn’t originally a McPatrick, so she might not be entitled to the rules in the handbook. Therefore, I have a 50% that I don’t get the curse. Since May didn’t get the curse, only being the age of five, I don’t know what luck I’ll have.

FRIENDS: AUTOBIOGRAPHY BY NANDHINI PARTHASARATHY

The story of my friends
It is quite simple
I am telling you this
as I am smiling without a dimple
My first day
I walked in all scared and brittle
Hours went by and soon it was english
and I was in the middle
Than all of a sudden
a girl with blonde hair
came up to me and asked are you fair
I numbly nodded yes
not knowing what to say
so she continued with her way
Hey, what's the word… she muttered
Is she always like this? I wondered
She finishes her thought with a curious smile
you wouldn’t happen to know the answer to #5 by a mile
I told her to try it on her own
and she replied
thats a friend I want to clone
We became friends and at recess
where I met a girl
with even a blonder dress
She introduced herself as a cat lover
And right then I knew
this was a friend I want to discover
All three of us smiling so bright
in silence
Until my first friend spoke and gave us a fright
You see that girl over there
don’t go over there unless you dare
Being the second grader I was
I came to the hypothesis
that she was a hypnotist fraud
In my mind
she would drag you in close
than make you semi-blind
Wiping your nose
making you rude to your friends
above haters
Soon though
a year later
we realized we were wrong
and said sorry alligator
Still through these odd times
these three crazy friends
stayed through
together till the end.

Quarter 2

A Time to Love
My heart pounded as I walked toward the open door. My mind was spinning like the earth around the sun. I couldn’t imagine that in two days, my life is about to end. Feet thump, and I feel the whole gravitational pull in my feet. Creak. I enter, and my mom says, “ Honey, it’s okay. Come, sit down.” I would believe her, but the thing is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, got crushed by this lady. Still, being the obedient daughter I’ve always been, I sit down on the teal blue table draped in teddy bear wallpaper.

I slowly lie down, feeling unbearably uncomfortable with my legs being too long for the bed. A nurse with oddly spiked hair enters in with a crackled voice, “Ok, we are ready. Now, Jenna, is that right?” I numbly nod as she pronounces my name correctly. She continues on, not before coughing in my face, “ Let’s get on with the CAT scan!” It takes me second to comprehend the words that come out of her mouth. I jump off the table and yelp, “WHAT?!?” I run towards the door, but suddenly I feel the weight of the sun on my shoulders, and I collapse on the ground.

I black out, and suddenly when my eyes open I’m not in the doctor’s office, but in my past. I watch through the movie like screen over my past life, and it seems like I am one from the audience watching the story of my life. Horrible memories flood into my brain, as I recollect the day on the screen.

Yes, it was the day of my fifth birthday. Everyone had just left with a big old smile on their face, but I had the biggest smile on of all. My mom comes over with a smile of her own and says, “Jenna, wasn’t Mommy right? Didn’t you have the best birthday ever today?” As I am watching this on the screen my tears well up in my eyes at the sight of how close my mom and I were. Well, back to the film. Little Jenna replies and hugs our mom tight, “ Yes, mommy!! You were right!” They both smile and all is well until suddenly young me faints to the ground. My mom freezes at first with no reaction, but then suddenly starts crying and running towards the phone. She calls 911, and hugs me close with tears running down her face rapidly.
(TO BE CONTINUED)

**4 ENTRIES**

Menacing Murder
Tanner and Dillon were walking to Old Woman’s Cottage, an abandoned cottage. Old Woman’s Cottages, the name came from Old Gretta how used to live there, who was a very grumpy woman, one day disappeared. Everybody just thought that because she was old so she must have died very peacefully, but what was very creepy was that the day of her death was the day of Delia’s disappearance.
I played an important part in this story because I was the victim. No, not Old Gretta, but Delia. Yup, that’s right. My name is Delia Miranda Fitzpatrick Junivy. I did not get killed anyway, but some people would say I went on a BIG adventure. This is how it all started…
SIX MONTHS EARLIER…
Dear Diary,
So, today was a HUGE day!!! I got my first friend in 8 years, in the dreaded place called high school, and you want to know what was the best part was. It was that she was a new girl, so that meant she knew nothing of that horrible rumor about me. Her name is Alicia Grenville, and she is who turned me from THE BIGGEST LOSER to #2 in the loser category. I have to go, Mom’s calling me to take my sister outside. Wish me luck.
From yours truly,
Delia M.F. Junivy
“Ahhh,” I sighed contently. As I finished my #371 diary entry, I felt content. I felt great, but of course my mom had to ruin this for me.
“DELIA MIRANDA FITZPATRICK JUNIVY, get down here this instance!!!!”
When I heard that voice, I knew I was in trouble. As I rushed downstairs and into the kitchen, I noticed that the walls had cracks in them so wide you could see all of Chicago from here. Oh, I hoped that I wasn’t on cleaning duty because that is the one chore I will NEVER do in my entire life. The foam from the soap, and the cracks that form in your calluses turn you into a grandma at age 15.
I crept downstairs with a face of uncertainty when I realized what my mom had been screaming about. Somebody had completely trashed our house and in the middle of this Bebe, my younger sister, was screaming. Her screams were not a surprise to this family, but her screams were blaring like the fire alarm pulled at our school. I asked her what she was doing in the most annoyed tone I could muster, and she simply replied she testing out her voice. As I was about to punch her, another silencer pulled through.
“That is ENOUGH!!!” Mom screamed at the top of her lungs. “I called both of you here because from either of your schools a kid did this and sent a note, and whoever did this needs to get the picture that this is not funny. Do either of you know who did this?”
For once in our life, Bebe and I agreed and both said nothing.
“Aren’t either of you going to say anything? Well, if neither of you are going to say anything, than both of you can spend all of your time…”
I thought, “Oh, No” it can’t be….
“CLEANING this ENTIRE house!!!” she finished with steam coming through her ears.
Bebe glared at me with such anger that if she had real lasers, I would be dead by now. I mouthed to her, “ I didn’t do it, did you?” She said nothing to me and turned her back and went to the basement to get some cleaning supplies.
Before I went to the basement to get the dreaded cleaning supplies, I decided to give mom a try. I went up to her and said with the straightest face I could, “ Mom, Bebe and I know nothing about this note. Could you at least tell us what it says?”
Mom realizing that I wasn’t joking got the most scared face I have ever seen her with and she chirped, “ Here read it yourself.”
I picked up the note with skull designs as the border and read the note hesitantly aloud.
Dear The Fitzpatrick Family,
I have your father here as hostage. You’ll never find my abandoned workspace, out in the middle of nowhere. The best chance you have of ever seeing your hubby, is to send someone equivalent of trade to be my servant. Don’t even try to send help, I have cameras all over your house. You have till the end of this week to figure out someone otherwise this one over here GOES! Don’t test me, I’m not afraid. Talk aloud of how you are giving up and I’ll pick he/she up and drop of the man of the house. While this scenario is quite threatening itself, I choose to add another curveball to the game. Each day you delay, something bad will happen to someone you love. Now guessing your dad went to Harvard, I am sure you’re not underestimating the cost of the scene here. Remember, I have spies everywhere.
Hope to give you the CHILLS,
Mr.X
I gulped in fear of what was going to happen when I thought of a terrifying question. “Mom, does that mean we’re being watched right now?” I said shuddering.
She wistfully said, “ Yes, honey. But don’t you realize they also have your father.”
I was happy and sad at the same time. My dad a few months ago was asked to join in the war. After he joined we lost all the connection to him, and I haven’t been able to talk to him in five months. I was glad that my dad was alive, but sad to know that he might not be alive for long.
For once my mom looked at me, asking what we should do. Being only 15, I was petrified. I could only think of one solution, and that was me going in exchange for my dad.
My mom saw my face, and immediately said, “Delia, you are not leaving us, in exchange of your father. Don’t worry, honey. We’ll think of something.”
I used the certainty of her face, to put me to sleep that night.

The next morning, I rushed down the stairs to find no one awake. This was very unusual because I am always the last one to get up. I went back upstairs to see if I could fall back asleep for a couple of hours since it was saturday. As I walked across Bebe’s room, I saw that she wasn’t in bed. I checked the bathroom thinking she was there, but she wasn’t. I ran as fast as I could to my mom's room and saw that she was still asleep. I used all the force in my body to shake my mom awake. She woke up in a second very confused and angry.
She said, in a tone that meant no funny business, “What is the MATTER?”
I said stuttering as I went, “B-Bebe’s n-not i-in h-her r-room.”
I got the most surprising reaction out of her and saw her reach for the phone. Before she could dial a single number, I swatted the phone out of her hand. I yelled at the top of my lungs, “ Mom, we CAN’T do that! They’ll kill dad and, maybe, Bebe.”
She sat back down, put her hands in front of her face and started crying. She cried for almost 10 minutes before I tried to console her.
I said, “ Mom, we’ll figure it out. This is just a big puzzle, and we just have to find the missing piece.”
She said slowly, yet firmly, “Delia, don’t you realize it. You are so oblivious. They will obviously take you next, and if you go I can’t hold myself. Without my two children, I will turn into a puddle of tears. I have to sacrifice myself to bring all of you back.”
I replied, “Mom, if you do that, i won't be able to forgive myself. WE need you. I need you. Please don’t go.” And right then and there both mother and daughter both broke down in tears. Crying and crying until they felt just right. I spent the rest of my day leaning on my mother for comfort, hoping that she would always be there. That’s when I got the ambition, I have to find out who Mr.X is to ensure the safety of my family.
After a good nights sleep, I was ready to jump at the spy action. I got up from bed and went to check on Mom before coming downstairs to get some breakfast. My breakfast simply consists a waffle with a cup of milk. I washed my plate and cup, and then wrote a note to Mom telling her that I went to the library. I simply hated lying to my mom, but I had to prevent her from worrying about me.
I wasn’t really lying though when I told my mom that because I really was going to the library. I just wasn’t going for the reason she thought. I had to head down there to research deserted places in hope that one of them would be Mr.X’s secret hideout.
I got a few interesting findings, but none of them seemed discreet enough. I cursed myself for having a crowded town without many abandoned buildings.

I moved on to the next phase of my plan, from trying to find out where Mr.X is located to whom he might attack next. If I found out whom I could follow them to find out where he was located. As I tried to muster up a plan, I got a call from Mr.X.
I picked the phone up and tried to catch my breath at the same time to have confidence to talk to him. I nervously pressed the answer button which at the moment seemed to weigh heavier than my Dad’s old weights.
As I was about to put the phone to my ear, Mrs.Stinten came up to me. She asked, “Are you okay, honey? You seem a bit startled.”
Mrs. Stinten was my favorite librarian because she knew what it was like to be away from your dad. She knew of this experience because when she was about 15, my age, her dad was forced to leave for the army. Some days we would sit together in the back of the library, and she would tell me how her family struggled. On those days, she would cry till her heart was content.
I have always felt that I had a strong connection with her since she never judged me. She just treated me like her own child. Since she didn’t have one, she would spend most of her time with me.
I acknowledged her sincerity in my head, pondering whether I should tell her the truth. I opened my mouth to tell her then I realized, “Since that Mr.X guy has changed all of my beliefs. I just don’t know whether I can trust Mrs.Stinten.” I forgot to close my mouth while I was pondering, when suddenly a fly went into my mouth. I coughed and spluttered hastily.
I got the fly out, no problem, this had happened before. When I closely examined the fly, I perceived that this wasn’t a normal fly. I saw tiny, little solar panels, and roughly saw two cameras, replacing the flies eyes.
I was so in depth doing my inspection, I hadn’t realized that Mrs.Stinten had left. I prayed that she didn’t see me examine the techno-fly. I was about to leave the building since Mom had been trying to call me for the past 15 minutes when Mrs. Stinten stopped me with a crazed, menacing look in her eye.
She said, “Don’t leave honey! Stay with me, and you can RIDE with me!”
I was scared to death, yet I still remembered to be polite, “N-no th-thank y-you, Mrs-Mrs.Stinten.”
She shouted, “ YOU ARE COMING WITH MMMEEE!!”gripped my shoulders, and I squealed in pain having her nails dig into my skin.
In a split-second I got over the realization of fear and got the overpowering feeling of strength and stubbornness. I karate-chopped her and flipped her over.
She fell down screaming in pain, and slowly disintegrated. I was astonished, one second she was there, the next she was in the air.
I looked around to see the library deserted. “Maybe everybody left during the fight,” I silently thought to myself. I ran home in about two minutes which is pretty impressive for me because I am not that much of an athlete.
I burst through the door finding it surprised that it was open. I stopped abruptly after I closed the door to catch my breath. I tried to calm myself down because if I didn't my mom would figure out right away that something happened. I steadied myself for a minute, and went to kitchen to grab an orange or something, I was STARVING! I grabbed an apple instead ‘cause it was the first thing I could find, and I headed to my family room. This was my “hangout room”, and was the most neatest and nicest place you could find in this house.
My mom usually is never hear because she is so busy trying to fix the rest of the house, but today she was here. Sitting on the couch, with a still and lifeless face. I walked towards her, hoping she would acknowledge me but her eyes closed and she collapsed on the ground. It took me a moment to realize what had just happened and I immediately burst into tears. I stopped after a minute, and tried to help her up. I thought about giving her water, calling 911. I saw as I went towards her my hands shaking in fear, that she had a hole shoot through her back. I could tell from the scuff marks that someone had shot here with a gun. She was gushing with blood, and for once I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t cry because this was no ordinary death, someone ended HER life. My mind filled with anger and rage, and I couldn’t even think a coherent thought.
I said to myself, THIS IS WAR!!!

**25 ENTRIES AND 7 SENTENCES**

Quarter 1

Emotions
When I feel sappy,
not ready to cry,
I dance happy
feeling the need to fly.

This thing makes you want to break the ground,
making you lose your mind and soul.
Crushing every single pound,
leaving you feeling like a lump of coal.

It gives you a chance to think,
but not enough time,
to tell them “You Stink!”
maybe they’ll even spend a dime
for you to get a drink.

So that’s what I learned,
that when there’s commotion,
it never leads a stone unturned,
making it an emotion.

**The School for Good and Evil: #4**

Chapter 1: Sophie

I slept restlessly last night not knowing what to expect in the morning. After just being elected the Dean of the School for Evil, and just hours after defeating Rafal, I thought I ex-School Master’s Queen ought to deserve a break. Just hours ago, I had seen the previous Dean die through her last breaths, and surprisingly enough, after having a rather snappy attitude, her death wish was for me to take over her job. Morning rose and Hort, who’s a guy, came to greet me trying to still get me to go out with him.
No matter what I had, being evil and all, I couldn’t help, but ponder what Agatha and Tedros were doing right now.
“What are you thinking about?” Hort said questionably. Before I could answer he answered his own question and said, “Still feeling the after effects, and losses from yesterday’s battle.”
I wanted to pay attention to Hort, being kind and sweet, but I was still mourning in my head. Because no matter what I said nothing was going to change, from hearing about my mom or seeing my dad again. I sadly shook out those thoughts hoping my face didn't look sad as the sunless sea.
Chapter 2: Agatha
First day after the war, and I have butterflies straight to my stomach. So many bad things could happen on my first day being queen plus talking and leading Tedros’ coronation, Would people look at my looks or heart? As I began to ponder those thoughts my face looked as I broke out into a cold sweat.
Merlin walked in when I was combing my short, stubby, black hair. He glanced at me not sure whether to laugh or to comfort me. Before he could have a reaction though Gwen, my new nickname for Tedros’ mom, walked in with this panicked look on her face. I guess my face showed more panic than her in fear because Merlin then soon said, “Calm down, Agatha.”
Lancelot soon barged through my door, and whispered something in his wifes, Gwen’s, ear. I predicted he had said something terrifying because she then looked as if she had seen a ghost.
I couldn’t bear the weight, I blurted, “ What are you guys so scared about?”
Both of them turned and faced after seemingly fighting about who should tell me. Then Merlin who had left bursted in with a zoom of magic, screaming, “TEDROS IS MISSING!!!!!!” He yelled so loud that Hansel, who said would stay today only if Merlin made her a new wheelchair, came in with this pissed look on her face.
It took me a minute to decipher what Merlin just said. When I understood, I got up on top of my chair and squealed in such a high voice only the crickets could hear it, “WHAT!!!”
**2 entries and 4 sentences**

3-5-1915
Dear Mr.President,
I am Lily Truman. I am writing to you about a new idea that could revolutionize gifted kids all over the U.S. My idea is that kids all over the U.S. tryout to make it into this specialized gifted opportunity. They would make money coming from the government, but at the same time you wouldn’t be losing money because of our extraordinary talents we could help out with situations. If you seem to be interested in this money making, brilliant kid investing project, please write to me as soon as you can. Oh, and by the way, I am a fifth grader at Lincoln Middle School, PA.
From,
Lily A. Truman

“Wow,” I sighed with relief. I was finally finished writing my letter to the president. That idea had been boiling in my head like pasta on the stove for almost a year until I finally got the courage to write a letter to the president about it. I guess my mom was right,”It doesn’t hurt to try.”
I licked the stamp of the envelope and mailed my letter as I run towards the bus stop.
“Hey,what’s the rush?” said my best friend,Max. You might think that Max is a boy, but she is actually a girl. Max is short for Mackenzie. Although I told her that her real name is really pretty,anyway prettier than Lily, but she refuses that anyone calls her that.”The bus isn’t coming for ten minutes.”
“That’s not why I ran to the bus stop. I came to tell you that I finally mailed my big idea.”

She knew what I meant by that because I had already told her my idea. She is the one that persuaded me to write that letter. So she said,” Do you think he’s going to reply?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I replied. But truly inside, I Knew he had to because him and I go back a LONG way.

**2 entries and 4 sentences**

A T.T.I.
In Unionville Elementary school, a school near Kennett Square, the idea of a Boosterthon Fun Run came up. The committee of the Boosterthon seemed to convince the Principal, Cliff Beaver about their fundraiser and the contribution to the community and the effect it would have. As of taking the bait, our principal only heard the positive’s about this run and didn’t seem to acknowledge the artificialness behind this ‘charity’. When the kids first seemed to hear about this idea they were excited because if they raised a certain amount of money they would receive a certain prize.But I felt that their heartfelt concern was as fake as counterfeit money. Now, when it comes to other charities like JDRF or The American Cancer Society you can feel what they feel about their charity, but when it came to The Fun Run they seemed so artificial that they fooled most of the kids except fifth graders. As leaders of the school they had seen other fund raisers and from the start they knew that they weren’t all about helping the military kids, the charity Unionville was running for. The Boosterthon Fun Run is a charity where kids gather donations, like giving a kid 10 cents every time he or she runs a lap or saying I’ll give you a total of $5.The kid will continue to gather pledges and earn prizes for his or her classmates. When it comes to the running, the kid at the most can run 35 laps. So now as a parent or a student, you might be wondering where this money went, it’s not going towards the school.In the pamphlet, they handed to the students.When they first heard about this fundraier it had said that they would hand most of the money to kids whose parents are in the military. As far as I could see, those kids needed cheering up and the money we donated gave them some joy which is a nice thing to do. As Chloe Lockwood says, a fifth grader at UE,” Even though they seem very artificial and not that committed to the charity, it does introduce us to fitness.”As the week went on and on the enthusiast voice was turning into the smell that comes out the back of trucks, yes, it really stunk that bad.

**1 entry and 4 sentences**

The Bitter End

Chapter 1:
I took a long swig of my apple needing something juicy to recover me from the pain, but instead I got this horribly, vile taste of bitterness in the back of my throat. I jerked so rapidly that my head started to have this pounding ache. These actions, nightmares, I remember where this has happened before. I got an immediate flashback, and all I could decipher was this five year old girl crying for her mother who was walking away in the darkness. The kid cried and cried, fearing that she would never see her mother again. I shuddered and snapped back to reality, but my eyelids were starting to get very heavy as if I had been lifting weights all day. I slowly started to close my eyes as slow as a tortoise walks when I saw this old, hobbling, unappealing women starting to walk towards me. I was conflicted because although my mind was saying “RUN!!” my heart was saying “STAY!!” Split between the middle, I couldn’t make a decision. As I was about to make my decision my heart and mind snapped and I fell to the ground twitching, when suddenly everything stopped, the world, the air, and then me.
2 weeks later...

I woke up startled not knowing where I was, I scrunched up my face so hard I thought it was going to shatter, when I got a recollection of that I was going to get granny smith apples for the orphanage sanctuary manager of OPWS, Claudia. She was and is the most important person to me because she was the closest I’ve ever had to a mother. But now she was gone, EVERYBODY was gone. I abruptly came back to reality noticing there was giant, green smoke coming out of the smoldering cauldron. Right away I assumed I was in some house that had witchcraft in it, but I calmed myself down to come to a rational decision. Before I made a decision, I looked up to the screen above my head when I saw a screen where a picture of the earth had been displayed, but now shattered in front of my eyes. My eyes flashed with panic as I realized what this could mean. Either the world would end, or it would be the end of me.

**2 entries and 2 sentences**

Religion

It’s such a strange concept that almost everyone believes in. Whether it’s Hinduism, Christianity or others. All, but few of us believe in one of them. That’s where I come in. I come from a religious family of Hinduism culture, and they always say, “ God is in us, and guides us throughout life.” Okay some people have their own beliefs, and they’re all different with one similarity. My mom believes in god and apparently in OUR scripture it says that god has made our own destiny and we can’t change it, but that's where I disagree. Now, don’t get me wrong I am not against religion it's just that I feel all rules that religions have are bogus for example, Not being able to choose your destiny. So my concept in this bogus rule or line is that it is WRONG. I have always have been (and will be) a strong believer in choosing our own destiny. Maybe my mom has some part of this part right, but the rest of the parts are wrong. This one way to explain my view of destiny, “See god can give you the supplies, but what you make out of them is your own part.” Let's say that god doesn’t want you to be a baker, but if you want to you can go against god and make it happen. My life lesson in this rule with religion is that don’t let anyone label you because you can always change that label.

Second life-changing rules with religion is the obvious. It’s so simple it only needs one sentence to explain itself. In all religions they have a role model but none of the religions role model is their own heart. Okay there maybe some background to this rule, but it’s self-explanatory. Our heart is where our mind should be, our mind should not be with somebody else or something else. So in every religion there is some role model you look up to whether it’s Jesus, Monks or someone. The scriptures in any religion never say look up to your heart. Our heart may not be pure and it might make some bad decisions, but overall our heart will always lead us to the right place. So when it comes to God following it blindly isn’t the best way to go either. Now I am not saying you can’t look up to someone, that is fine, I am just saying be aware of your heart don’t just ignore it.

More to come LATER!!!- Not Finished

**2 entries and 6 sentences**

The Curses from Above to the Glories down Below

Introduction

She said,” Hi,” breathing her last words ever. If she only knew of the impact her life had her fate would have been changed.
Sierra Foller was an average American girl doing average American things in her life. Everyone loved her and thought she must be happy for being so popular and nice, but the truth was that she dreaded every minute being a goody too shoes. She only did this for one and one reason only to keep her mother from sobbing.
Delany Foller was Sierra’s mother. She was as perfect as any mother could be, but that changed when her love died from a terrorist attack right before Sierra was born. To this day Sierra doesn’t know she had a father or if her mom ever got married. Delaney promised her true love that she would keep her daughter happy and very popular so no one would dislike her.
Lily James was Sierra’s best friend, and well, there is no real introduction to her, but because of her Sierra’s Life Changed and no one would be the same,ever.

Chapter 1 Sierra F.
Today was the first day of high school!!!! Well, that’s probably you thought I would say, but let’s be honest here. High school is just another society in which you are basically treated by your “ranking” or like they said in the olden times the caste system. If you’re still not understanding that here is another approach, you know in the book Divergent they have different societies as different rankings it’s basically that with the same amount of violence but the less amount of trances.
Oh, sorry I haven’t introduced myself have I? Well, if I didn’t let me now. Hi, I’m Sierra Foller, not the human but the ghost. You might ask what do you mean by ghost, well I mean that I am telling you about my high school years and how I began to live life yet experience death. I am happy and awed by my death. Because of my sacrifice peoples life will change for the better. So in this story tell I’ll recite the past and read aloud the present from the underworld.

Chapter 2 Lily J.
“ I am SO nervous for my first day of high school!” I said aloud. I, Lily James would be going to Lincoln High after moving from Maine to Ruperfort,Illinois. I hope this school is going to be better than my old school. “Hurry up, dumbo!” screeched My idiot brother, Mark. I replied, “ I am, short stuff!” He hates it when I call him that because he is the smallest kid in his grade. He usually says stuff like that, but this line is a line that I would always remember when it came to him because it was the last thing I ever heard from him.

To Be Continued... - Not Finished