Appearances can be deceiving
Appearances can be deceiving.
Take J.R. Watkins, or Junior. Her real name is Jessie Rubel Watkins. She is the pint size of four foot eight, so people often tease her. And then they regret they did. She has mastered three kinds of martial arts and she boxes in her free time. She is also part of the debate team, but not captain, and she suspects that is because she is usually too short to see over the podium. She can take the words out of your mouth, shape them into whatever she wants, and shove it back in all while being polite and logical. She never raises her voice. People often think that just because she is small, she is weak. But no. Appearances can be deceiving.
Take Dan Peloski. He is built like, well, a bodybuilder. He is 6ft 5in, weighing in at 220lb but without an ounce of body fat. He is pure muscle. But he isn't some dumb jock. He was the valedictorian of his high school. Also, his late gram taught him how to sew, embroider, and crochet. When he isn't with his three year old son playing Monster Trucks, he scrapbooks. He is also part of a book club. No one wants to mess with him, but he is afraid to mess with people. He doesn't realize his strength and would rather hide instead of fight. People often think that just because he is built tough, he is just focused on his strength. But no. Appearances can be deceiving.
Never judge a book by its cover and never judge a tiger by its stripes
"No!" Mage shouted, yanking madly on Forrest's arm. "You can't do this to me!"
"Oh, but I can, my sweet," Forrest replied, dragging her along.
"I am NOT your sweet anymore," Mage growled, trying to scratch him.
"This is what I have to do, Mage. The world depends on it. The cliff desires the sacrafice of the thing you most love."
"Why don't you just throw yourself in, narcissist?"
"Well, that would be pointless, wouldn't it be," Forrest smirked. The canyon loomed below them, getting larger with every step.
"Please, Forrest. I will do anything," Mage cried.
"I cannot change the fact that I love you the most and so I must sacrafice you to get what I want. However terrified and sad you are, I feel twice your pain because I must live with this. You get to die. You don't have to face the cruel world. You don't have to live. You, in a way, are lucky."
"I am not lucky. Let me go, Forrest, or I swear-"
"What? You are not in the position to make deals." And with that, Forrest threw Mage over the edge of the cliff. "Goodbye, Mage," Forrest whispered as Mage went screaming down to the bottom of the canyon. He didn't look back to see if she landed. The piercing quiet was telling enough.
Hall of Treasures
Lines of silver
Rows of gold
Fall into line
Fall into the chamber
Pace down the hall
Look but don't touch
Touch but don't look
A secret trap
Once, I found a giant porcupine on my doorstep. He was a big guy, big but strong. So I tried to move him a make him go on his way. But, he wouldn't budge. Annoyed, I decided to bring him right in, which her gladly accepted, but I told him "Just don't do your buisness in her, O.K.?" And you know what he did? He let a big old mess right on to the florr. After cleaning it up, I said, "I'll call you Stubby." Thus, started the adventures of Stubby and me. The next day, I started out to find food for Stubby. First, I went to the pet store and bought some samples. None of them worked. One day, after a long week o' work, I found Stubby munching on my bag of S.N.A.C.K. (Soy Nuts and Chips(Kale)) So, I found that he liked nuts and as a treat, potato chips. After a long night of sleep, I realized that Stubby was nowhere to be found. I looked all over the place and found that he was sleeping in my sock drawer. After buying a proper bed for him, we settled down and lived happily ever after.
(A piece by my little brother)
Ode to Mom
You give us so much every day
You used cook and clean for us
You make sure that we are happy
You love us no matter what we do or say
You are always willing to help us
You don't know how much you mean to us
You don't know just how much you mean to me
The midnight sun
She danced with the moon on her back and the sun warming her cheeks. They all stared in wonder if they could. She moved too fast for them to track her every movement. If they caught a glimpse of what she was doing, they were lucky. Her long dress trailed behind her like a river of flowing silk and sequins. He arms were outstretched and her feet were a blur on the softly woven ground. Her house loomed next to her, but as she danced, it seemed to relax and feel safe. The trees swayed to the invisible rhythm that floated in the air, swirling around her like a tornado. "Where does she come from? How does she do that?" People wondered. She was only seen at night when the stars shined above her like crystalline diamonds and the moon was not a pearl but a milky white sun plastered in the sky. People would get suspicious and stake out in her yard where by night there was a house and by day there was a grove of trees. They would vow to stay awake and watch her, but her fluid movements quickly lured them to sleep. When they woke, the sun would just be peeking out from the horizon and a freshly cooked breakfast would be sitting on a tree stump for them. The girl would be gone, and so would the house.
She twirled and rushed with the ecstatic excitement of a young child just waking up on Christmas day. The sun continued to warm her cheeks and the moon cooled her back. The midnight sun was a spotlight on her as she danced through the night, whirling and flailing though the night.
What I am Thankful for
I am thankful for life.
My music teacher once said that the worst thing for the environment is to increase the population.
He is right.
Most people are thankful for food, water and shelter, which keeps them alive. And don't get me wrong, I am undoubtedly grateful for all of those things and so much more.
But it fascinates me that people care so much about life when all life does is bring death, and sorrow, and so much more.
You can have your excuses. That doesn't make a difference.
But you are also thankful for what you are thankful for.
And I am thankful for what I am thankful for.
And there is nothing wrong with that.
Lonny Farris hated everything except for one thing. That one thing wore a frilled top with pink lining and it was just as could be. Lonny didn't know why she liked this thing. It was totally and completely ordinary. Heck, walk into a certain store and find tens of these at least. Lonny certainly didn't want to like it either. What is to like about something ordinary? Don't most people want something original? But it turns out that this thing was Lonny's only companion for most days. Lonny would sit there with her companion and watch TV, which she didn't even like.
Guess the companion in the comments below
I stop myself before I think anymore.That will trap me into this spiraling world of nothingness I call my head and my mind.
"Annabeth!" calls Marc. A girl in a white nightgown pokes her head out of her bedroom window excitedly. "I have a song for you!" says the boy in the wrinkled tux. Annabeth leans out farther. Marc starts to strum his guitar. About two measures in, he begins to sing. "This holy girl, in the nightgown, she is so perfect, I can't let down. We are forever two bound in one, as consistent as the east and the sun. Oh, oh, the east and the - SUN!" yells Marc. Annabeth tumbles in midair, past the fire escape, past Ms. Tiffany's window, past the second floor flower shop and the first floor cafè.
"AAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!!!!" she screams. "Save me!" Marc runs to where Annabeth is falling. "I got you, Annabeth!" yells Marc.
Just when Annabeth is about to fall perfectly into Marc's arms, and he was going to carry her away into the night, and she would be so grateful, and then they would live happily ever after - just when she is about to hit him, a tall muscular man swoops in. Annabeth plopps into her arms and looks into the eyes of her savior. She sees a perfect man, tall and handsome. He had saved her life.
He sees a dinky little girl that he would pretend to like and then dump on the street like the sixty-five other women he had been with.
Marc has a very bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling. This man just randomly comes out of nowhere and saves his dream girl? No. Not happening.
"Better luck next time, kid," says Mr. Muscular, carrying her away into the night, and she was so grateful, and she hopes they would live happily ever after. Marc is furious, but he has no choice but to return to his lowly dorm on the other side of town. He straps his guitar to his back and starts to bike down to town.
A few days later, he hears Annabeth in her room as he is passing by. Please, don't ask him why he does this. It's quite personal.
Annabeth is crying. And Annabeth never cries. She is one of the strongest women Marc knows. So he pulls out his guitar (please don't ask about that either, he is a musician) and yells, "Annabeth!"
She stays in her bedroom.
But Marcus D'Antoine Reviere doesn't quit. "I have a song for you!" he yells. He starts to strum. After about two measures, he begins to sing. "This holy girl, in the nightgown, she is so perfect, I can't let down. We are forever two bound in one, as consistent as the east and the sun. Oh, oh, the east and the sun. The east and the sun." He stops singing and looks up. Annabeth isn't in her bedroom window anymore. He sighs.
Maybe Annabeth isn't my soul mate, he thinks. She didn't like his song. He starts to walk away, when he is ambushed from behind. He feels Annabeth's warm arms caressing him and he turns around to hug her back.
"You were always there for me, even when I wasn't there for you. Thanks. That really means a lot. That guy was a huge jerk. I don't even know his name!" Annabeth murmers, her head buried in Marc's shirt.
"That's okay. No matter what, I will always love you." Marc replies. He carries her away into the night. She is so grateful. And they live happily ever after.