March 26th

Share the rest of the story circle color pieces!

March 20th

Today we worked on Emma's color prompt. We did a story circle with a prompt inspiration based on color.

Tuesday we are meeting in the forum with Desi VT.  Please be on time!

Thursday you need to have one revised piece (either from our prompts or inspired by them) ready to workshop in class. We will read/discuss each piece as a class.

March 20th

You discover that some creature of doubtful existence is real. How did this happen, what do you do, does anyone believe you?

Examples of Creatures:

Vampires

Mermaids

Werewolves

Titans

Elves

Trolls

Griffins

Dragons

Aliens

Fairies

Unicorns

Centars

The Loch Ness Monster

Bigfoot

The Abominable Snowman/Yetis

Ogres

“Quiet!” I whisper harshly. “They’ll hear you!”

“Sorry!” my friend replies, “sorry.” She hesitates before taking her next step, planning carefully as to keep her steps silent.

“We’re almost there,” I say more softly, “I don’t want to risk anything.”

Together Holly and I trek through the woods of my backyard. I came out here alone earlier, on my morning jog. It’s the same route I take every day, I could do it with my eyes closed. A flat and thickly vegetated entrance that slowly slopes up into the rows of tall pines. I know each root, each sapling, each bend and dip.

But this morning it was different. Ten minutes or so into my run the ground shifted itself under me and threw me forward onto my hands and knees. I stayed there like that for a moment, frozen in shock and pain.

With a groan I pushed myself up, sitting back on my calves. After I paused my music I took out my headphones and surveyed the area. Nothing looked different, but I could hear some sort of humming and the distinct scent of smoke drifted closer and closer. It didn’t make any sense.

I got to my feet and my curiosity led me to find the source of the oddity. I didn’t start running again, but slowly and silently picked my path. The further I walked the stronger the smell of smoke got. Then, when I crested a small hill, my heart just about stopped. Large, metal, partly blown apart, and covered in strange markings, I saw it.

It was a spaceship. An alien spaceship, I was sure of it. Am sure of it. My entire life I’ve always believed that there is more out there, that space isn’t just full of rocks and gas. And in that moment my beliefs were confirmed. I could have cried.

For as excited as I was I didn’t dare approach the ship, it was too big of a risk to take. Instead I hid myself behind one of the big pines on the top of the hill, and I watched, needing that final confirmation.

After an eternity that was probably more like five minutes, a figure appeared from the ship. It was humanoid in form, tall and slender. Its skin was an almost shining silver and it had raven hair that fell long and straight down its back. It was an absolutely beautiful creature, more so than I could have ever dreamed. I thought then that if they didn’t end up being friendly and decided to wipe out the planet, I wouldn’t quite mind falling at their hands.

I let myself observe for a little while, half frozen in awe. Then I realized that I needed to tell someone. I backed away slowly, down the hill, and then broke into a run.

When I got back to my house nobody was home. I let out a small shriek of frustration and then booked it down the street to my best friend’s house. I didn’t tell her much, couldn’t really. Just a breathless, “come see, come see, come see.”

“What?” she had asked, “see what, Bry?”

“They’re real! I saw one! I was on my run and its ship crashed in the woods!”

Holly’s face scrunched up in confusion, “Its ship? Are you talking about...about aliens?”

“...yeah.” I replied knowing I probably sounded like a crazy person. But my best friend is my best friend for a reason.

“Alright,” she nodded, “show me.”

Chenoa Jackson

The Encounter …

The sun shines through my window. I groan as I roll out of bed. Throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts I slip into my sneakers heading for the door. Everything will have to wait, the morning calls and I want to run into the beauty of the outside world.

I close the door firmly behind me and take off at an easy jog. The air tastes sweet, pure. This is a special day. I don’t know why but it just feels like one of those days that don’t come too often. I wave at my neighbors and friends as I run down the street. I’m so glad that it is summer vacation. I think to myself. I pass through downtown. The stores are just opening, the town is coming alive.

I turn off the street and follow a dirt road. It’s time for an adventure. Trees line the dirt path. It’s cooler here, welcoming in the summer breeze. I breath in the scents that surround me. The pine smell is sweeter than ever and the clear air is purer than ever. That’s when I see their silhouettes, four of them. I pause in the middle of the path. No one comes down here. Never. I walk to the side of the path and wait for them to pass, but they don’t. They stop when they get close to me.

I stare in amazement when I can finally see them. They’re not anyone I know, let alone any human I know. They’re decked out in brown cloaks that drag a bit on the path behind them. Dark clothes, dark cloaks this sends me for a loop. What sane person would wear dark clothes and a cloak in the summer. Then again I’m not sure who they are. “Hello.” I finally manage to say. They don’t say anything at first. I scan their faces quickly not meaning to stare and be rude. Their faces are shadowed by their hoods so it is hard to make out anything distinct about them. Their faces are far as I can tell look human enough. I can see that all four of them have brilliant blue eyes. Bluer than any I have ever seen before.

The mysterious figure that I assume is the leader steps closer to me. We are only six feet apart now. His hands move to his hood. The hood falls to his shoulders and I catch myself from gasping out loud. His ears! His ears are not like mine at all. They are pointed ears! These people are not Human at all. The first thing that comes to mind is aliens. Yet at the same time they don’t seem to be. “Greetings. My name is Haradir and these are my companions, Lendir, Nodir, and Randir.” It takes me a moment to process everything before I can speak.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Mara.”

“Mara,” Haradir nods as he says my name. “We are elven ambassadors from a far land far away from here. We would greatly appreciate it if you could show us the way to your Capital Building. We would like to meet with your leaders so that our people can learn more about each other.” I nod, not sure about what to do. I am still stunned that they are not human.

“Yes, I will take you there.” I say not sure what else to do. Haradir pulls his hood back up and I lead them down the path back to my town. We walk in silence the entire time. I am still shocked to find out that Elves actually exist. I thought that they were just a legend from story books that I used to read. As we reach my town I start considering how to tell someone that Elves exist and want to speak with them. People stare as we walk down the street to the tall building in the center of town. Everyone must be wondering what these strangers want and why they look different.

Too soon we are at the steps of the magnificent Capital Building. It is made of glistening stone that is smooth to the touch. I lead the Elven ambassadors up the stairs and through the double doors that mark the entrance. It seems to take forever before we reach the end of the hall. I stop in front of a second set of double doors and turn towards my mysterious companions. “Please wait hear. I’m going to tell them that you wish to speak with them and come get you when they are ready.”

“As you wish.” Haradir nods. I take a deep breath and walk through the doors. They shut quickly behind me and I stand and face the five leaders of our town. They seem to be deep in discussion when I enter. Their heads turn towards me as I walk forward towards the man standing in the middle. My older brother, Martin. I take a deep breath and hope that he understands what I am about to tell him. Out of all of the people here I know that he will listen.

“Mara? What are you doing here?” Martin asks in a surprised voice. In, out, in, out. My heart races as I try to find the words to say.

“Please don’t laugh when I tell you what I have come to say.”

“You know I would never laugh at what you have to say.” Another deep breath. I am glad that it is my brother that I am talking to and not one of the others.

“Elven ambassadors are waiting outside that wish to speak with you.” I manage to say. Martin pauses, not sure on how to respond.

“Are you sure?” He asks eventually.

“I have seen them with my own eyes.” The others standing by him start to whisper. They doubt what I say, I know it. I mean, who would ever believe that Elves exist. I even didn’t believe in their existence until today. Martin hushes his companions and says something to them.

“Are you sure we should believe her?” I hear one say. My face turns red at the disbelief in their voice. I’m not imagining things! I want to scream.

“Look she’s my sister. I trust her with my life. We can believe her.” Martin says standing up for me. There is more whispers that blur together, but I can see that my brother is bringing them over to his side. Their voices disappear as they all turn to face me. Martin comes forward to stand in front of me. I search the face I have known my entire life for answers. I don’t know what I will do if he laughs at me, telling me that everything I said was made up. Searching, I am relieved when I find my answer. He believes me. “Let’s not leave them standing outside. Please, bring them in.”

Sydney Caldwell

The hunger builds and builds until I shiver and shake with need. Unlike many of the branches of the family tree who find satisfaction in commoners and babes, my standards have risen much higher. I feast only on king’s blood. From the first drop I tasted, I could not bear to taste anything else. It is like first drinking from a muddied puddle and then drinking from a fresh spring. Why if you have endless supply of spring water would you ever go back to the muddy puddle?

Although the first taste of king’s blood was a mere bastard, I could not deny the fact that it was utterly mouthwatering. After I was done feeding, I licked my lips until they were raw and my nails cut my tongue when I desperately dined on my fingers as well. The feeding was fast and when the cries were no longer heard from the crib and I was done cleaning up, I left out the window and jumped to the neighboring roof.

It was several months at court before I was sought out by the Duke of Norfolk to speak with His Majesty. For what I did not know but in the ways of court there is no such word as no. So unknowing the cause I followed the duke into the king’s privy chamber where he sat at his desk with a lone candle to brighten the room. Shadows covered the walls as we entered and followed us silently as we approached his desk. When the duke spoke, he spoke lightly as if he afraid of awaking him. The king looked up and his eyes were rimmed and swollen red. He looked as if he was he hadn’t slept in weeks. He eyes were looking at the duke but I didn’t believe he truly saw anything. Those eyes were full of sadness and grief. All things that made easy prey. The duke murmured quick words to him and he slowly nodded. I could not pay attention for all I heard was his slow and steady heartbeat, the pulsing of the blood being pumped throughout his veins. The almost harmonic tone started the formation of saliva in my mouth and I eagerly licked my lips. Time seemed to stop for a moment and then she appeared.

…

In that instant I was so afraid. As I walked in the room I kept my eyes lowered, staring at the tray that held so much food and drink. I could not drop this, not again. Less than a year ago when I began my service to the crown I dropped a tray of wine on the king’s feet. He slapped me so hard I fell to the floor and my face was black and blue for nearly two weeks. After that I learned to walk slower to avoid such instances of happening again. But when I dared look up to set the tray upon the oaken table, his eyes were upon me. Bright and fierce they felt like fire on my skin. I instantly dropped to a courtesy and began leaving the room. But it seemed it would not be that easy. Before I reached the door, he was suddenly in front of me leaning upon the door.

…

In that moment I knew that I must stop her. She seemed innocent enough but she there was something in her eyes. They had a glimmer to them that I had never seen in a human before. A sense of unknown intelligence, a sense of unhappiness. And it was the first time in my long long life the first thing I noticed about a human that was something other than blood. But this one carried a tray of a vintage wine and although most of us choose to dine on humans instead of with humans, I often make exceptions.

Jake Davenport

I hurry from the woods in a nervous scuffle through the branches. Looking around, to see if anybody spotted my breach of the tree line. I sling my black duffle back over my shoulder, and with my head down and my hands in my pockets I rush towards home.

My duffle bag begins to shake and shuffle as he awakes. I hit the bag with my knee.

“Shut up in there! Didn’t you already figure out that I’m not playing around?”

“You’ll never get me g—“

I hit the duffle bag again.

“I said SHUT UP.”

I make my way into my driveway and sprint to my front door. I slam the door shut, locking the bolt behind me. I go around my house, shut all the blinds and close all of the curtains. I open my duffle bag of gold. Well. It’s not exactly gold right now, but I have a key element to finding gold.

See I was in the woods going for a typical hike. Nothing out of the ordinary, when all of a sudden I picked up the sight of green velvet making its way behind a tree.

“Who’s there?” I yell, but no reply. I slowly make my way to the tree, as I approach I grab a large stick and hold it firmly. I whip around the tree, to my surprise, a small red headed man is looking at me.

“What the hell?” Is really the only thing I can say at first. Then it hits me, this is a Leprechaun!

“I know what ye wants!” the little man yells at me. “He wants me gold, but he’ll never get it will he!”

He turns quickly and tries to run. I give my stick one strong toss and strike him in the back of the head, dropping him. I sort of feel bad for the little guy, but I also feel bad for the financial situation my family and I are in. So I stuff him in my duffle bag, zip it up, and decide my house would be the best place for the interrogation to undergo.

Back to my house, I have this little fella tied up in a chair. He’s about the size of a 5 year old, but his anger shows me quite of a more mature vocabulary. I don’t really know what to do about the noise, so I bring him down to my basement, I’m really not a bad guy. His actions are just making me have to do bad things to contain him. I shake him.

“Look man, I just want your gold, you know that’s why you’re here.” I state.

“You’ll never find me gold, no way no how!”

“Well I’ll kill you if you don’t show me.”

“Ohhhhhh, my gold?” he says

This is where his mood seems to change.

Danielle Baxter

The cold water splashes against my face. Shock begins to set in, my body numb. The waves pushing me out and pulling me down towards the never-ending bottom. I always imagined this moment differently. My legs kick but I go nowhere. As I sink deeper and deeper I find a certain peace. My body is no longer fighting, the waves crash down on the surface causing intricate swirls in the sea. Eyes closing, hands reaching. The light slowly turning to nothing.

Becky

Sometimes, I felt like someone else

I could not control my actions

I would feel differently than I usually felt

My thoughts were not my own

My opinions were constantly changing

There was someone else inside my head

Something else

attached to me

and it was dark

and angry

It wanted revenge

it was driven out of hate

Putting distance between myself

and everyone else around me

I tried to tell him

Tried to tell him that I didn’t really hate him

It was someone else

inside myself

making me say things, making me feels

Feeding me

Fusing into me

He did not believe me

He called me crazy

I started to believe him

Vanessa

“Beautiful”

Long and frustrating

A lengthy cluster of blues and greens

We lack in love

But blood and lust

A breast for front

And a front of luck

Of cold and warm

Unsure

From shore to shore

And to scale a wall

When walls are gone

And all along

I swam alone

Behind your tail

A whale we’ve trailed

Murdered

and cold

Shattered in skin

I loved her

Bloody and wrong

My mermaid is gone

March 18th

Everyone draws a number out of a bowl ranging from 8-16.

The number represents an age.

You then have to write about something that happened that’s memorable from that age.

Achievement in one hand and failure in the other

she let them go,

A step forward and sixteen years back her daddy sold the last of his dreams,

She wish she could give them all back but her genie gauge was on ‘E’,

Although her daughter gauge was on ‘F’,

And the words in her mouth couldn’t depict the thoughts in her head.

But she tried for him,

She told him every day what she thought the difference between his radiance and the sun was,

And that being that the sun was further away,

His dimples were like little child-made divots in the sand after a day at the beach,

But he didn’t smile as often as he use to.

One step back and sixteen years forward her daddy built the rest of his life.

He’s had one too many hair cuts but he’s still huggable,

And the number of times she’s played that game and never beat it is frustrating enough,

Yet she still keeps playing it,

Because it remains her fondest memory of him.

He isn’t special except to her,

His radiance didn’t shine anywhere except in her eyes,

But for all she knew, he could’ve been a superhero,

And all he did was make paper,

But that was just enough to bring her everything she’s ever needed.

Jake Davenport:

Up to bat

Its my second year in little league

I’m not a rookie anymore

Although my first at bat of the season I was hit in the face

I don’t worry

I let the past fall, now I’m just looking for a fast ball

I dig in the dirt, tighten my batting gloves

I clench the thick, rubber handle tightly

knuckles white

“Easy out!” states the catcher

That really happened.

I squint my eyes in sheer concentration

I’ve waited eleven years for this day

and I wait for that first pitch

and its thrown

I close my eyes and swing with all of my might

No one, especially me, could have predicted the outcome

“Ding!”

I feel the vibration up the bat and through my arms

contact

I watch the ball fly towards center field

Instead of running, I just sit and watch

I had never hit a home run before

I knew this was it

Over the fence and into the softball field

I jumped with enthusiasm and sprinted around the bases

Giving each base coach an exuberant high five

My rosy, red cheeks and wide smile cause my eyes to tighten shut

As I slowly come towards home, I see all of my teammates

Friends

All ready to bombard me when I step on home plate

This day had much more impact on me

than just a bat hitting a ball

Chenoa Jackson

Nine years old,

Third grade.

We travel by bus,

To the sandy river.

Excitement fills me,

We have watched them grow,

I have helped take care of them,

They now sit at the front of the bus,

My teacher watching them.

My feet find the dirt,

I walk with the rest of the class,

Down to the river,

Where we will do our deed.

I am handed a little bag,

I hold it tight,

Knowing my mission,

I slide into line behind my friend,

I open the bag as we inch closer.

Then it is my turn,

I dip my bag,

Into the bucket of water.

Water fills it,

I lift the bag,

Looking into the clearness,

Watching them swim.

I join the next line,

Holding my bag,

Like precious cargo,

This is important,

I have waited for this day,

All those months of feeding,

Of watching,

Of temperature control,

Today is the day,

Our handy work pays off.

I stand next to my friend,

We kneel in the sand,

Next to the river.

I hold the bag carefully.

Good luck little ones.

I dip my hands in,

Along with the bag,

I turn it on it’s side,

And release them.

I watch their little bodies take to the water,

Their new home.

I smile as they swim away,

I watch until I can’t see them anymore.

I smile knowing I have done something good,

I have helped replenish a population,

I have helped the Atlantic Salmon,

Our fish release is a success,

We’ve given these tiny beauties,

A chance at life.

Michaela Hutchinson:

Fifteen, like the Taylor Swift song, except nothing like that at all. My fifteen started as a summer, just as freshman year was ending. It was a bright and hopeful time. I was learning to drive, my best friend at my side. I was learning what it was to really have fun, a new friend guiding me through. Finally, I was discovering myself. Which was good, because the rest of fifteen wasn’t so amazing.

When August left, two of my best friends almost went with it. I didn’t understand why they were suddenly so upset with me. Why we couldn’t just talk and work it out. Conflict. I have always hated conflict.

Then Cory Monteith died. That was…a shock. He had played one of my favorite characters on Glee and I definitely felt his loss. My friends finally reconsidered whatever issues they’d had and offered me their condolences. It felt nice to have their support, but I wish that it didn’t have to happen that way.

The rest of fifteen was spent in school, my hardest year ever in school. It took a lot of hard work and dedication to make it through sophomore year.

My sole reprieve was the vacation I took with my brother and his family to California. While there, for the first time in my life, I was completely responsible for myself. I had my dad’s card and had to sign for anything I bought. I could help chose each day’s activities. That was a week full learning, discovering, and growing. Because, suddenly, I was becoming an adult.

In her song Taylor says that she didn’t know who she was supposed to be at fifteen, and I didn’t either. But I was getting there.

Sydney Caldwell

(10 years old)

I sat crying in the bathroom, my cheeks stained and nose running. This day I had hoped with all my heart for a few pieces of wood nailed together. A place to store my dreams but when I walked in it wasn’t under the tree. I told you so long ago, I wanted this from you and only you. I wanted you to paint and carve into the wood, leaving your mark wherever you wanted and I would have loved it. But you never gave me a chance to love anything, you left me with an empty heart and a mind full of disappointments. I cried for more than an empty chest, I cried for a life full of disappointments from you. My cheeks burned red. I was so envious of the other girls in the next room. They weren’t my cousins, they were my opponents and I could never best them in your eyes. You made your mind up on a Wednesday ten years ago.

I

Danielle Baxter-

Age 8

A round face speckled with freckles

Pants too short

Feet too big

HarleyRae Lovejoy-

Being of only 12 I never knew what I was getting myself into. What I learned was that my parents were right even though they didn’t do it the best of ways. It surprises me every day how I didn’t have to stay back with my grades. At the time I thought I was on top of the world and didn’t need my parents anymore.