Creative Writing

Painting a Smile

Author's Note: At Academy 21's ADA carnival, Callie and I worked at the face painting booth.  This piece is reflecting from that day.  In this piece I will try to use a lot of semantic devices such as personification and metaphors.  I'm trying to write a narrative for this piece.

We pulled on our table cloth and waited patiently.  Tick-tock, tick-tock.  The clock went on and on; still no one came to our table.  One by one, two by two, three by three -- until we couldn't count any longer.  Two little girls, hair the color of sunshine, smiled and sat at the table.  Both of us had no idea what to expect.  Should I press hard or light? Should I move her hair or not? Should I ask her a question so this isn't awkward for both of us?  The same questions scrolled through my head over and over again.  After the first few customers came by, I was getting better at this job.

The rest of them were a breeze.  Crayons and brushes full of color danced on their skin; it became effortless for me.  It was amazing seeing my improvement after drawing my seventh unicorn.  At the same time, this job was annoying when I drew on the same person for the tenth time.  I thought to myself, all this money goes to that one out of every four hundred children that get diagnosed every day.  Even my cousin and my kind friend have diabetes.  So even though I wasn't getting to do all the things I wanted to do, I was doing the right thing.  

Today wasn't about me or my customers, it was about those poor people.  Our job was to bring out a smile as wide as the ocean on every single one of those children with diabetes, by the end of today.  I smiled to everyone I saw, because all the donors deserved it -- for helping.  That's all we could ever ask.  When it came time to clean up, I didn't want to go because of the incredible feeling I got from helping people.  Giving is like a gift from the kindness of your heart.  You have to give to get, and if you give love, you get happiness.

 

 24 Hours

Author's Note: Our school had spring break about a month ago, and so far I've only written one piece about the trip.  I decided to write one today; this piece is going to be our road trip to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.  In this piece I am working on my voice and trying to be as descriptive as I can about my emotions.  I will also try to include some semantic and syntactic devices.

24 hours, in the car, is a long time.  If your heading to paradise, it's even longer.  It's enough time to take in the scenery and the car wheels roll along the bumpy path.  The wonderful smell of burning leaves fills my lungs, but it is shortly destroyed by an old man smoking on the side of the road.  I plug my nose and close the car window.  To my left I can see mountains, foggy in the distance, and pine trees  so tall that they can touch every star in the sky.  Mornings are full of traffic and as the day goes on, clocks seem to get tired of ticking.

The aqua sunset is tinted with yellow as blazing orange sets fire to the clouds. Click!  I try to get as many pictures as I can.  Every sunset is different.  As the day went on the sky grew darker and darker and darker.  I pull out my flashlight and start to read, because the excitement inside of me is taking over and I can't even blink.  I've been waiting for this trip since last year.  We're almost at the sunny land of Florida, we're almost at the beautiful port where we will start our journey, we're almost at the wonderful Caribbean Sea.  

It feels like we've been in the car for decades, the car is a cage which I cannot escape until I have met my destination.  The car cackles and shines an evil grin, because we have to stop again.  This ride could not have been anymore agonizing.  I felt like I was going to explode.  When will we arrive in the place where the sun shines, the ocean has waves, and the purple clouds make every night magical?

I fall asleep, because waiting is useless.  In my dreams, there is blankness; most times I see something that ends up happening the next and only little flashes, but I never know what they mean.  Tonight, I can't see anything -- it's like seeing a hole in the ground.  Two hours is the exact number of hours I sleep in the car, because I can never manage to go longer.  It's kind of odd considering that two is my lucky number.  Random thoughts like these float through my head.  Then, something happens.

The car stops and we are looking at palm trees a thousand feet into the air and clear blue skies without a single visible cloud.  Taking a deep breath of the salty ocean breeze, I feel gleeful, because we are finally here.  Every second of every minute in that 24 hour car ride was all worth it; we are here ready.  Ready to begin our spring vacation.

Sorry for Nothing

Author's Note: This piece is about moving on, because sometimes you do something that you wish you could undo years later.  I was reminded of this a few days ago.  In this piece I will try to use different semantic devices such as similes, metaphors, personification, and hyperboles.

Kindergarten is only a time -- a distant memory only uncovered by scrapbooks.  Memories are made when you are young, only to be forgotten.  Now that I am being reminded, little flashes of that moment appear in my mind, but it doesn't quite make sense yet.  It was a billion years ago, and now it comes back.  Why didn't they let it go? That one question still makes me ponder.

Not that I don't care that it happened, it's the fact that they haven't moved on. Did I ruin part of their life?  We were kids, and still that memory creates a hatred towards me that cannot be fixed.  My thoughts speak to me and help me remember.  If I could go back to that day and fix it, I would.  It's now too late.  Life has taken the door to my kindergarten classroom, locked it up with chains, and put it out of my reach.  For me, it is too late to change the past, the only thing I can do is fix it in the future.

I'm sorry for what I did before, but I can't hold onto that moment much longer.  The past is the past.  Life is like a broken heart, it can't be fixed unless you move on and learn from that mistake.  Doing something wrong is meant to help you learn, not to dwell on the fact that you are imperfect.  Nobody is perfect and that's how life should be.

Moving on is what keeps us going.  You can't sit there and be ashamed of yourself, because through the tough times you should be glad that you are learning something -- something you could not be taught at school by your homeroom teacher.  Forgiveness is the key to moving forward.

With all that being said, I express that I am sorry.  At the same time I ask why am I apologizing?  We both learned something from this, to forgive and forget.  I don't want to come out as if I don't care, because I do.  So here it goes; I am sorry for nothing.

A Light in the World

Author's Note: A few weeks ago we had a power outage which lasted for roughly four hours.  From that long period of darkness, I was and inspired and that is what this post is about.  In this piece I will use more repetitive patterns and semantic devices.  

The lights flicker for a moment.  Suddenly everything blackens out; I couldn't see anything.  Shadows lurked in the darkness. Taking cautious steps through the hallway, I see my little sisters charge towards me.  Both of them were terrified, but I told them to grab some flash lights.  As they flipped the switches I saw the light illuminate the room.  Light is hope and happiness.  

As we set candles and flashlights all over our house, the world seemed to get brighter.  Every light shined more hope.  It gave us hope that the lights would come back on.  Giving us hope for a brighter day.  Hope that when this is over, we would all be alright.

Through all the rain and wind pounding on our house, the flicker of the candle lights gave us happiness.  We are a family and no amount of darkness will destroy that.  Family can make the world so much brighter.  Love makes the world much better. The warmth and comfort of the flashlights and candles made our house feel okay again.

Find something that makes your life brighter, happier, and better.  Life is so much better when you have love. Love makes life mean something.  All those little lights in our house helped me find a positive part to sad experience.  Lights are our hopes and happiness.

 Firework

Author's Note: For literature group we tried the stream of consciousness; it started with the word moon and from there I created a short piece.  In this piece I am trying to create a clear picture of that moment in time.  I am focusing on using climatic patterns and repetitive patterns.  This piece depicts a Fourth of July night.

As the sun sets in the west, we lay outside on the picnic blankets.  Fireflies light up the sky as the world blacks out for the night.  Up in the sky a beautiful lantern is still hanging, calming the mood for this evening.  Leaves rustle, birds whistle, and the breeze calms.  We sit together enjoy the company of our families and neighbors. 

The night is young and we are together. One big family--all our neighbors and random people we don't know become closer because of one family.  We sit on the lawn this July, waiting in anticipation.  All of us waited until the fourth day and it is finally here.  Nothing, not even those pesky mosquitoes will ruin the moment.  The fireworks explode above us, but the moon is still the most beautiful.

Shining brighter than all the stars in the sky.  All of us laugh together, dance together, and love together.  This one night celebrates the freedom of America, and what's better than celebrating it together, especially if it's the last night together.  

Even thought the fireworks of many colors burst in the sky, we don't care too much about them.  The company with us is better, more important, and why we are here.  Catching the moment through the lenses of our cameras is the only memory of this that we can ever see again. 

Every fourth of July will be different than the last, but I recall this one being the most memorable.  If you were there, you'd say the same.  My best friend and I were together for the rest of the night waving to all the cameras trying to freeze the moment.  That's were it ended--the photographs.

A Dancer's Heart

Author's Note: I saw a ballet called David's Heartbeat, and I am creating this piece to reflect on this experience.  Being the first ballet I have seen, this was a completely new environment.  This ballet was very moving; in this piece I will share my emotions, thoughts, and reactions to this performance.

We entered the auditorium, staring in every direction in awe: the stage lights and smoke machines ready for action.  Everyone waited calmly and quietly in anticipation of the show.  As we got settled in, the auditorium grew silent.  The ballet was about to begin.

Above us, a gigantic T.V. showed us the story of David and explained the performance that was told through contemporary music, dance, and David's heartbeat. Two by two, the ballerinas leaped and spun across the stage, everyone in sync.  Graceful hops and twirls from every dancer.  Once again, the lights died out and the second scene began.  The lighting created a different scene, almost eerie.  This time they danced in an almost ghostly way.  Through my eyes, I saw spiritual creatures possessed.  Their souls in control.

The show continued with the most beautiful and agile ballerinas leaping about the stage.  It was a ballet.  Although, it was a unique ballet; they way they put on the show was like no other.  Telling a story through every movement, song, and step.  Beautiful is one way to describe it, but I wouldn't use that word because it was much more.  Inspirational and dedicated.  Every performer put their heart into the piece.  That's why I loved it--the dancers' hearts.

900 Miles

Author's Note: This piece is about my friends that moved far away.  In this piece I will have as much voice as possible and I will express my feelings about that event.  I will try to use figurative language and enhance my vocabulary.  

I have two best friends.  I met both of them in first grade and we will always be best friends from that day forward. We did everything together: biking, running through the forest in the middle of my neighborhood, going to the movie theater, playing spies...everything.  Us three were like triplets.  In fifth grade we went to each others houses; we would explore all the hidden parts of our neighborhood.  Sometimes we would make movies with my friend's video camera. Fifth grade was the best year we had, but also the worst.  

In fifth grade both of my best friends moved to the east coast.  One moved to Pennsylvania, and the other one moved to North Carolina.  There was three months in between both of them moving. That was no where near enough time to say good bye.  We spent all the days before they moving being with each other.  They didn't want to move at all and I didn't want them to move either.

The first one that moved was very sudden.  We only had what felt like a day before she moved.  It was April when she moved; it was a bright, sunny day, not a cloud in the sky.  Something so terrible wouldn't be expected at the moment.  Seeing her in her house for the last time was heartbreaking.  Her empty room with the moving truck outside was so depressing.  As the movers loaded everything into the semi, we said our last good byes.  My other friend burst into tears, it was hard for me to hold it inside.  I didn't want to add on to the sadness.  Looking back on my bike seeing her wave to me was the hardest part.

As for my other friend, I knew she was moving for a few months.  We both thought about my other friend hoping that she was doing well in North Carolina.  All I had was a few months, so on the last day we had together I did something more special.  I took her to a few places in Wisconsin that I wanted her to see that didn't think she would ever see again.  Everything available to do on the nice day it was, we did.  Swimming, shopping, eating, and everything else.  I knew it would be a long time before I saw her again.  When I dropped her off at home, we hugged each other for the last time.

I though my life would be miserable without them.  I thought it would be incredibly hard to find friends as good as them.  I couldn't face the fact that every day after school I would get on the bus alone and I wouldn't be able to go to their house after school.  Every day I would stare out my window remembering when they were here.  I thought my live would be despairing without them.

Then, I looked at it another way.  Now, I would actually have a chance to make new friends.  I would be more independent.  When, I look at all the friends that I have now and all the things that have happened since then, I think.  Could I've done this if they didn't move?  It's not like I haven't seen them since they moved.  900 miles away.

Hope's Fire

Author's Note: For literature group we read All Summer in a Day by Ray Bradbury.  This response is my way of showing my reactions from this text.  In this piece I will have a clear description of my thoughts, and I will vary my sentence lengths.

In the story All Summer in a Day,  a girl named Margot lives on the planet Venus.  Margot thinks that after seven years of rain, that today would be her lucky day, and the people of Venus would get to see the sun.  Of course, everyone doubted her.  Not only did they doubt her, they made fun of her and pushed her around.  Although, Margot's prediction was correct.  You'll have to read the rest of All Summer in a Day if you want to find out more.

What would the world be like if we had to wait through seven years of rain to see the sun?  Almost every second of our lives would be submerged in sadness.  The world would be dark and depressing, no wildlife to surround us in, just rain and darkness.  Sometimes we take everything on our planet for granted--things like trees, life, water, a sun that we can see every day, and happiness.  I think that we should think about what life would be like without the many qualities Earth has. 

The sun is a huge source of energy, beauty, and joy on our planet.  It's a sign of hope, happiness, and warmth.  Dreary is one word that we could use to describe Earth if we couldn't see the sun for seven years.  Every morning I look forward to see the sun rise--the fiery orange and red that illuminates the sky that slowly turns to a brilliant yellow around noon.  The sunset is beautiful and relaxing; my favorite characteristic about sunsets is that they are never the same.  Sometimes you will see a sunset the color of majestic violets and pinks.  Other days you will see a sunset that can be related to a blazing fire.  The sun is a symbol of cheerfulness in the world.

A Summer Adventure

Author's Note: I didn't know what to write about at the time so Callie gave me ten words which are scissors, jet ski, rose, cabin, rope, castle, pineapple juice, marker, tissue, and tree.  I used them to create this little excerpt.  I will try to include many details and enhance my vocabulary.

I am leaving for San Diego this summer-- no need for a tissue, I'm going to summer camp.  Summer is finally here; I can wait for those days where I hang out by the Pacific Ocean's shore with the salty breeze in my face while I sip pineapple juice out of a bright pink straw.  I shoved my camera into my duffel bag and lugged it down the stairs.  My mom loaded my duffel into trunk and hopped into the front seat.  As I pulled open the car door, I took a deep breath and buckled my seat belt while rummaging through my rose colored backpack.  My journal was peaking out of the over flowing bag; I decided to start writing.  Date: June 21, 2010, Day one of seven.

We live in Riverside, California so the ride way only a couple of hours.  My mom only brought me here, because she has a convention a few mile away from the camp.  Once she dropped me off at the entrance, I was dying to get inside.  This place was no hotel, but it was exactly what I was looking for.  As soon as I set my bags on my bed I explored the cabin; it was gigantic.  There was a bed room with four beds, a small kitchen with a mini fridge, two modern day bathrooms with marble flooring, and a living room with a fireplace and a T.V.  That was just inside the house.  Outside were volleyball nets, rope swings, and a humongous swimming pool.  Camp already felt like heaven.

No one came yet so I went into the attic to hopefully find some art supplies; art was my life.  All I found were colorful sheets of paper and scissors, not even a marker, so I made a picture of the beach.  In the picture, my subject was the sun, a blazing ball of fire, because the only colors I had were red, orange, pink, and yellow.  Someone came knocking on my door shortly after I finish and I knew it was time to go to the beach.

I set my red bag, purple towel, and cheetah spotted flip flops under a palm tree for some shade.  There were so many choices that I didn't know where to start.  Jet skiing, surfing, swimming, and creating sand castles were all enjoyable options.  Enough time was set aside to do everything, but which should I do first?  This summer was going to be packed with adventure, but it had only begun.

The Butterfly

Author's Note: My inspiration for this piece was my art project that was a picture of a butterfly garden that I went to at a museum.  I will describe the movement of a butterfly and how I picture them.  In this piece I will try to vary the sentence lengths and include many strong adjectives.

The graceful insect glides through the sky, its bright colors a blur of beauty.  As it's delicate wings beat, the warm feeling of spring spreads across the valley.  Dancing in the wind, the wings flutter behind it's abdomen.  A jet black body, but wings of royal blue and violet.  Strong yet shy the butterfly is the most majestic bug of all.

I pulled out a camera to catch this creature in its glory, but it's balletic body is too agile for the click of the shutter.  Showing off in such adorableness my jaw drops in amazement.  Simple yet fascinating, the butterfly attracts it's other elegant friends that create a rainbow of pulsating wings.  Warmth and joy fills my heart as I watch them fly away, for the beautiful image of this creature will stay in my mind.

The Sun Will Rise

Author's Note: The inspiration for this narrative was a song that I heard and a book that I read that both had the same meaning to it.  They both meant to do your best today, and if it was rough you can try again tomorrow.  In this piece I will try to include a twenty word sentence in each paragraph and find replacements for weak words.  The scene of this piece is two people in the forest after a long battle.

I laid there exhausted from the battle today.  Fighting for my life and my freedom was my job from now on. My allied and I sat there thinking about our experience today, because there is always something better we can do tomorrow.  She and I had the same thought with an expression to show it.  Tomorrow is a new day with new opportunities waiting.  What we did today was only to prepare us for the next day. Just close your eyes, the sun is going down.

The tragedy and loss we experience through this fight was the most difficult obstacle to overcome.  We looked around the forest for a sign of happiness, but all I could see from here was trees that have collapse in a storm and dead grass and weeds.  Darkness veiled every inch of the wilderness.  Oddly, I didn't feel scared.  You'll be all right, no one can hurt you now.

My eyelids became heavy, but I wanted to savor this rest.  This was the most peaceful time of day.  Only the calming breeze and chatter of animals; this was what I wished life to be like from now on.  As my allied drifted off into her dream, I thought of what life would be like if I weren't here.  It wasn't completely my decision to be here, but I was going to do my best to make my life normal again.  Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.

 Performance

Author's Note: In this piece I will display a clear image of my emotions and thoughts before a performance, specifically band concerts.  I will try to vary my sentences and enhance my vocabulary. In each paragraph I will include at least one sentence with at least 25 words.

I took a deep breath as I headed to the room at the back of the stage.  It was my last chance to practice, so I organized the music in the order we would perform.  Looking over all those accidental and dynamic markings.  Running through all the songs on my own, going measure by measure, I practice the areas I stumble upon and try again until it's perfect.  Every measure must be correct, any mess ups can change the quality of my performance.

As the band director gets on the podium and holds her baton into the air between her finger tips, we look up and silence falls over the class.  One, two, three I think as she mouths the numbers.  I go up and down the marimba in the B flat concert scale.  After the scales we flip through the pages of our music and find the parts of pieces that trouble us.  Giving hints and cues to our entries and dynamic changes we succeed in our practice.  None of this matters, though.

The only part that matters is what we give our audience.  All the rehearsals and lessons we have gone through will be put to the final test.  My last minute nerves have gone from my body.  I focus on what I need to be doing at every second of our concert.  The black doors to the stage have opened, all of us are hear the words good luck ring through our ears as we line up outside of the doors.  Now it is time to show the audience what we've got.

 Waiting For Snow

 Author's Note: This piece was just to express my experience of winter this year.  In this narrative I will try to create a clear image of what I saw.  I will also try to vary the sentence lengths and enhance my vocabulary.

Winter had started and as I stared out the window, leaves fell and the grass look more lifeless.  Snow was the only thing that could liven the weather.  Every night I dream of the fluffy white snow covering every inch of our lawn.  I white Christmas is what I desperately wanted, but it was not to be.  Minute snowflakes fell occasionally, but it wasn't enough to fulfill my longing.  

The wonderful holiday of Christmas had come and still no had come.  Just empty trees and dead plants lay this time.  Christmas was never the same without the the sparkly crystals precipitating from the sky.  I wished for a last minute blizzard this holiday.  For a second I thought I got my wish, but it only lasted five minutes.

 Our winter break was coming to an end, and of course my wish came true.  I opened my curtains and the roof of our house and our lawn was covered in dazzling, diamonds of snow.  Outside, layers of snow poured from the sky.  As the wind picked up, little stars of snow swirl in a graceful design.  Finally, snow.

Self Expression

Author's Note: This piece was created to express my thoughts about self expression.  In this piece I will vary the lengths of my sentences.  I will also try to have a strong introduction and conclusion. 

Have you ever kept something inside, because you were just shy?  Sometimes I do.  I just think that you need a few things to keep to yourself.  Some people share who they are in a different way than just saying it.  Art and writing are some ways people self express besides talking.  Personally, I think these are the strongest ways to share your thoughts, just getting them down on paper.

Art as in painting and drawing is a creative way to give self expression, especially to share your emotions.  Colors you use and the scene that you try to create bring out your emotion.  Most times dark colors such as blue, violet, and black would indicate sadness.  Bright colors would symbolize joy.  The neatness and flow of your design show your mood.  If your art looks extremely sloppy it might show that you feel rushed, but if you blend in all the strokes and take you time, someone could interpret that you feel relaxed and calm.  Art is a enjoyable and easy way to throw everything inside onto canvas.

When you write something, most times you can relate to what you're writing about.  The words have a special meaning in your heart; it may be a hard time you went through or a dream that you've always had.  Writing shows you a memory or thought.  There are many was to write and many modes of literature, but most times you only pick the way that means the most to you.  If you don't have a relation, it's difficult to write about it.  Journals and diaries help you remember your thoughts so you can look back on them.  Writing is a unique and deep way to process your thoughts.

Which ever way you choose to express yourself, it must make sense and be most useful to you.  If it isn't than it doesn't mean anything.  Self expression is very important, and you should never exhibit it in some way.  Your thoughts and emotions are important and you must let them out in one way or another.  Keeping everything inside isn't good for you, because everyone's thoughts matter.

 Adventure

Author's Note: In this piece I will be explaining the adventure in life.  I will enhance my vocabulary and vary lengths in my sentences.  There will be at least four sentences in each paragraph.

What is life without the adventure?  You wake up thinking what chances you will take in the next 24 hours.  Imagining it is one thing, but living your dream is what counts.  Wondering what's behind the mountain is an option, or you could see it for yourself.  Life is a roller coaster, so enjoy the ride!

The decisions you make determine the liveliness of your life.  Do you want to go the easy way or the daring way?  Life is what you make it, so create something memorable.  Don't let fear stop you from living out your dream; embrace it.  Your future depends on the risks and adventures you take in your life time, so wasting away the days of your life isn't going to get you anywhere.

Clocks are ticking and the countdown has started.  Live your life like there's no tomorrow, and make you dreams come alive.  Half the enjoyment of your life is the ride.  Treasure every moment and don't waste a second.

 Pride

Author's Note:  My inspiration for this piece was when I was thinking about all the accomplishments people have in their lives.  On the news they recognize people who fight for their lives, so that was part of my inspiration.  In this piece, I will enhance my vocabulary and vary the lengths of my sentences.

I fought for freedom and prepared for the sacrifice of my life.  When I heard the horn, I knew we were done.  Our team gave it all and got the outcome we expected the victorious feeling of pride.  As I stand up, the dirt and sand falls from my jacket.  Looking around, I see my friends stand up all with a smile of victory.

At home, we sat stood up in front of a crowd of citizens cheering for us, proud for what we have done.  Waiting for my name to be called, a joyful yet nervous feeling bubbled inside me.  They called my name, so I stood up.  At the podium, my face blushed with joy and my heart swelled with pride.  I was speechless; victory filled throughout my body. 

Being awarded for helping others is the best feeling imaginable; not because people will know who you are, but because of how you put your feelings aside and helped someone else.  Although the best award of all was the freedom of America.

   Through My Eyes

Author's Note: I was thinking of how when you look at a picture you can see it in a completely different way than someone else.  That's what inspired me to write this piece.  In this piece I will try to vary the lengths of my sentences.

As I looked at the design I couldn't decide.  Was this an elephant or a peacock?  The sequins represented either the head of an elephant or the feathers of a peacock.  All the parts of the creature were visible through this design.  Either which way was reasonable.

When you look at a picture or design, you can see it in one way and the person right next to you can see it in another.  Some people chose to look at the photo as it is.  Others look deep down into it taking in every color and detail.  I guess it depends on your personality.

There are pros and cons for either way you choose to look at something.  When it comes to brainteasers, the harder you look the more difficult it is to find the answer, that is in my opinion.  In order to understand brainteasers, you must empty your mind, and think basic.  If you look at artwork, the deeper you go the more you take in.  With art, you remember and learn what you discover.  No matter which way you look at things, it's essential to always get something out of it.

The Feeling of Danger

Author's Note: My friend sent me a story that she was writing and it was very well describing the feeling you get when you sense danger, it inspired me to write this piece. I will enhance my vocabulary and vary the words that are used in the beginning of the sentences.

Have you ever felt a weird feeling inside?  Did your heart every beat so loud that you thought everyone could hear it?  Was that feeling from being nervous or danger?  Are you paranoid or could it really be there?  In the middle of the forest, why do the lights dim when the noise gets quieter?  Are you really seeing this?  You ask yourself these questions when you have a suspicious feeling inside.  

If it's really there, you tell yourself not to believe it.  Inside, you know when something dramatic is about to happen.  When you're alone in a dark place, you become colder in the inside, a nervous sensation takes over.  Some reactions are temperature change, heavy breathing, increasing rates of your heart beat, and some even faint.  Although, when someone is with you, you can be a bit more theatrical and joke around.  

Danger relates to the feeling of nervousness in many ways.  Most of the relation is the way people act in reaction to the situation.  Noises and movements are a couple of the various senses that trigger these emotions.  You never know if it's a coincidence or if something terrifying is about to happen.  Despite the outcome of the situation you always have to keep your eyes open.

 A World Without Color

Author's Note: I was looking around the classroom and I realized how there are so many bright colors flying around the room.  This writing piece will show how the world would be without colors.  In this prompt I will use lots of voice and descriptive language.

Skies of blue, flowers of yellow, trees of green. Rainbows of color dance across the walls giving life to the room.  Pictures and designs with bright, flashy colors fill an area with movement.  In a world without color, none of this would be imaginable.

The world would be dark and life less.  Self expression and emotion would be difficult to explain.  Swimming in oceans of gray, or frolicking through a field of with shades of gray, black, and white would be awkward. Everyone would look sick or depressed.  Life would be like looking through an ancient camera; a colorless memory. 

Color in the world is what makes things attractive, full of emotion, and alive.  Without those fiery reds, majestic violets, electric greens, and all the colors of the world, we wouldn't have adventure.  No culture, no passion, and no liveliness. 

Being Nervous

Author's Note: I wrote this piece to express my feelings of stage fright and nervousness.  I got this idea when I was listening to people read off parts from a story in front of their class; I realized how people have different reactions when they are nervous.  In this piece I will try to enhance my vocabulary and vary my sentence lengths.

"Can you read this paragraph for us?"

"Umm, okay."

I watch the little girl as she started to recite what was written on the piece of paper.  She opened her mouth and then froze.  Then, she tried again, she mumbled a few words and stopped once more.  I looked up to see why she had stopped.  Now, she was scratching her head.  Was she stuck on a word?  Did she forget to wear glasses?  Was she not able to read anything on the paper?  Why did she stop?

As I watched her I felt bad inside.  I could feel what she was feeling, nervousness and embarrassment.  When, I looked at her I remembered how nervous I used to get.  When someone becomes nervous or has stage fright, they will do something to distract themselves.  In reaction some will scratch their heads, play with their fingers or loose accessories, or tap their feet.  

For some people stage fright was never an obstacle; they were just naturals.  I'm a personally not a fan of public speaking, but every time I try, I get better.  That's how I build my confidence; I know that I can get better because I've already done it.

For everyone that has a fear in their life, avoiding it isn't going to stop it.  Putting it off isn't going to make it go away.  Facing your fears is the best choice.  It may be the most frightening, but it is positively the best.

Yellow is Not Just a Color

Author's Note: This piece is was written to express my thoughts about colors, specifically yellow.  I got this idea from using the word association.  My goal in this piece was to use at least on of my vocabulary words of the week, shown on the side. 

What do you think of when you see the color yellow?  Sickness?  Joy?  Hope?  Or just a color? Many artists used this color to portray a feeling through their thoughts.  Vincent Van Gogh used this color to make him less depressed.  Many of his paintings include yellow.  He painted two pictures of his bedroom at different times.  The first one showed as if it was morning; the sun was up and shining through the curtains reflecting off the walls.  On a different day, he painted his room again.  This time it was dark and dreary; only a tiny bit of happiness had shown.  His emotions had shown completely. 

When I look at the color yellow it depends on what shade of yellow and how it is used.   If it is light yellow, I see joy if it is an object or person.  Yellow backgrounds and random stripes give me a feeling of hope.  Darker shades of yellow as the skin color of people give me a sense of sickness or disgust.  Yellow is one of those colors that depends on how you use it. 

Art is in the eye of the beholder.  A world without color is a word without emotion.  Everyone should use color only to give meaning and life.  Trash to one is treasure to another.

 A Rainy Day

Author's Note: I wrote this piece, because I thought it was very interesting how the weather suddenly changed outside.  The purpose of this piece was to challenge myself in trying to create a picture with words.  Also, to try and use different words for the same meaning.

It was a beautiful day, the bright yellow rays of the sun shown through the shades.  I came home from a long day of work at school.  Then, the sky changed it's scenery.

Dark gray clouds rolled into the scene and cover the big bright star in the sky.  A small rumbling sound came from the sky above, and a humungous gust of wind slammed into the side of the house.  Rain drizzled from depressing, gray cotton balls. Tiny drops of water hit the pavement.  Those tiny drops instantly changed into a down pour, covering every inch of the sidewalk.  Looking from my window I could see how terrible it must be for the creatures outside.  

Quickly, the rain stopped falling.  The clouds moved aside, and the breeze slowed down.  Birds appeared out of the trees and started to tweet.  Shining high in the atmosphere as bright as ever was the sun as if it never rained.

Hope Comes in Colors

 Author's Note:  I wrote this piece, because the sun is an inspiration to me, and I know it's the only thing in life that will never not show.  This was written to inspire others and to show people that there is always hope.

The best sign of hope to me is the sun.  When you look at the sunset it tells you that your day is almost done and you’re almost there.  Sunrises tell you a new day is here and full of new opportunities and chances.  

That blazing star in the sky is pretty much the only assurance in life.  You will never wake up and without the sun somewhere in the sky.  It may be hiding behind some gloomy clouds, but it is always there, waiting to shine through.   So, the sun isn’t just a symbol of peace and happiness, it’s a symbol of hope, too.