A, B, C, or D by Katie P

Lily Groven was seventeen, and was living just outside of New York City. Her father owned a big company, and her mother owned her own bakery. She had exceptional grades, and she was President of her senior class. She was the perfect student. No one would have ever thought that she would ever be at the risk of getting expelled.

Greg had been Lily’s best friend since his mother started working for her mother. Greg started going to Lily’s school on a scholarship sophomore year. He was always getting into fights because he was different. He didn’t grow up like the rest of these kids, his family lived a good life, they weren’t poor, but they were nothing like Lily’s family. They found that out at the end of senior year, when Greg felt like he was about to lose everything.

“Lily, honey, Callie, Dave, and Greg will be here any minute, you might want to some note paper, pens, and highlighters out of the hall closet so that you guys can study!” Lily’s mom Laura yelled from her office where she was coming up with new recipes for her bakery.

“Right mom,” Lily said with a tint of sarcasm to her voice. She knew that there was no way that they were going to get any studying done. They would be having her mother’s double chocolate cake, and talking about how much trouble they would all be in if they failed their finals.

Within a half hour all three of Lily’s friends were now in her living room with their school books not even close to being opened. Greg seemed to be acting weird all night though, but Dave and Callie were acting more suspicious than usual. Greg kept looking over to the table were they had all put down their books. Callie and Dave kept looking at Dave’s bag. Lily knew that Greg was scared about finals and the risk of failing them, but she could not figure out why Dave and Callie were acting so weird.

“Hey guys do you think that we could maybe study for a while.” Lilly asked looking over at Greg.

“I will,” Greg said. Callie and Dave looked at each other and then looked back at Greg and Lily.

“I have a better idea, and we wouldn’t even have to open a book,” Dave said with a smile, “My brother’s both took the chemistry final. Mike took it two years ago and Conner took it last year. It hasn’t changed one bit. So, I thought that if we really needed to pass these finals we could use the answers.”

“NO way,” Greg said, almost yelled, “I have everything to lose, if we even get caught or if someone gets suspicious, I could be expelled. I mean I know that I have gotten in trouble before with fighting and all, but I only got out of getting suspended because I had such good grades.”

“See we knew that you could get in trouble, well we could all get in trouble, but that is why we won’t all have the same answers. Based on how we are doing in this class that is how many we will get wrong,” Dave said pulling an envelope out of his backpack.

“I have to get close to a C, you and Lily can get almost perfect scores, and Dave can just get like a B or something,” Callie said smiling at her self.

“Well, as long as you guys are sure that we won’t get caught,” Greg said.

Lily knew that nothing good could come out of this, something bad was going to happen or someone wasn’t going to fallow the plan. She w\would have never guessed how it would turn out. She studied that test front and back about 20 times that night. She kept repeating to herself, a, b, a, c, d, and so on. She was nervous out of her mind and had no idea how she was going to get through the test.

The next morning she went to pick up Greg early. She was in her car going over the answers to the test and Greg came running down the stairs and looked like he has been up all night. They were early for school so they decided that they would drive around and go over the answers to the test.

“I think that we should be alright, as long as we don’t have the same answers to the test,” Lily said with a laugh, but they would so find out that it wasn’t funny.

They walked into the chemistry lab and within two minutes of sitting down the teacher passed out the exam. Throughout the whole test Greg and Lily kept looking over at each other as nervous as possible. Lily had the worst feeling in the pit of her stomach. Greg knew that if something happened to Lily she could always get out of it, but he had been at the risk of getting expelled because of his fights, and now he felt like it could really happen.

The next day they were all seated around a table in the chemistry lab, and a beep came over the loud speaker.

“Would Lily Groven and Greg Warren please come down to the vice principle’s office,” the voice said.

The walked down and didn’t say one word to each other, of their palms were sweating and Greg knew that he was done; he was going to have to leave this school, his friends, and Lily. Something had happened and neither of them knew how. Greg could spot the image of the vice principles face from going through his head. She would be so disappointed. He hadn’t studied at all, had no idea was going to happen unless he opened the door.

They walked up to the door, and opened it, but instead of the principle being upset and having a sad look on her face, she was smiling.

“Would you two come in please I have some college’s that are interested in you both,” the vice principle said. She told how proud she was that the two of them had done so well on their finals. She showed them there tests and Lily right away spun around to look at Greg. Greg had gotten a B+ on his. She knew that Greg hadn’t looked at the answers. She was so excited and so happy. Everything had turned out ok and Lily knew that she would never take the risk of taking answers again.

Greed and Gold by Jonathan Parker

Once there was a man named Andy. Andy lived in a small town in Oregon, where he owned a store. This store supplied almost all of the town’s shopping needs, since there wasn’t a Wal-Mart or Target for fifty miles. The store had everything; groceries, cleaning supplies, toys for children, DVD’s, video games, sports supplies, musical instruments, and almost anything else you can buy in a store. Everyone from the towns near Andy also shopped at the store, and almost half the town worked at the store. All this business made Andy very rich.

If there was one thing that Andy loved, it was money. This was good, because he had a lot of it. He reveled in the thought that he was the richest and most famous person in town. Whenever he was chauffeured around town in his stretch Hummer limousine, people would point and stare at him. After some good investments in the stock market Andy was so rich and famous that sometimes Bill Gates would stop by his mansion to ask for money.

One day Andy decided to commemorate how rich and famous he was. He bought all the gold in Fort Knox from the US government, and hired 5,000 people to build a giant statue of himself made of solid gold. He decided to call it the Statue of Andy, and build it right in the center of his little town at the entrance to his store.

The statue took five months to finish, but when it was done it was the most impressive man-made monument ever built, rivaling the Pyramids in grandness and majesty. The base of the statue was over 2000 feet wide, which forced Andy’s company to bulldoze the houses around the store in order to make room. The statue was over a mile high, and depicted Andy pointing at the sky in an inspirational pose. It was so enormous that it blocked out the Sun in all the cities surrounding it on certain hours of the day, acting like a gigantic sundial.

Eventually, after two months of enduring living with the Statue of Andy, the citizens of the towns around it decided it had to go down. Huge mobs of protestors appeared at the statue. Thousands of people picketed Andy’s giant store, robbing him of all his business. Since Andy still had to pay for the upkeep of the store and his workers’ wages, he lost money rapidly. Soon Andy realized that things would have to change.

When Andy woke up the next morning he walked out of the mansion that he had built inside the statue. He stood on the makeshift balcony of his giant statue’s hand, and addressed the people protesting below. “People protesting my statue!” he said, “I have decided to pacify you. Everyone who stops protesting my statue will get $200 worth of store credit, free of charge!” The people below, however, did not share his enthusiasm.

Andy was out of ideas. He had no money left, and no one ever came into his store. Walking inside his deserted store, he got an idea that would make everyone happy. He ran out to tell the people picketing, and they agreed to try it.

A week later, Andy walked to his office on the top floor of his giant store. People smiled and greeted him politely as he walked by. They were all wearing new gold jewelry and watches. When he got to the top floor of the building, several people were waiting for him. They all started talking to him at the same time. “Hello, I’m from the National Homeless People’s Fund. Thank you for giving us ten billion dollars worth of gold,” said one of them. “I am a representative of the Starving People in Africa Fund, and would like to thank you for your $10,000,000,000 donation,” said another. Andy plowed through the crowd of people and walked into his office. He sighed and looked out the window. His giant golden head, resting where the entire body had been a week before, stared back at him. Andy sighed. He wished that the entire statue was still there, but he realized that the statue did more harm than good, and everyone seemed to be happy with the new arrangement. He had a lot of work to do, so he sat down at his desk and tried to forget about it.

The Way the Water Moves by Krista S

I can remember that day. Like a clean cut view into the past. It’s not like I want to remember it, but it doesn’t matter now. I can’t stop what I’m thinking and I can’t think what my mind won’t remember. The day my heart was broken and healed at the same time.

My story might remind you of how the water moves, you know that feeling. The feeling when your toes reach the crystal blue stream and you just can’t get enough. The way you float on the water and it seems as in an instant all the problems of the now, the past, and the future are drifting away on the on ocean’s breeze.

My story is kind of like this. It has the ups and the downs with the water in between. As perfect as my memory serves, it was July. July 28th to be exact. The morning sun just broke into the pink sky without any warning. I’m not used to waking up early, but some kind of movement, some sort of force, pushed me out from underneath the covers and into the world that I never called my own. My mom was making breakfast downstairs as always. The smells from the kitchen crept up the stairs to my bedroom. It smelt like she burnt the food though. It was Saturday, so just put on some comfortable clothes and went downstairs.

"Hi mom," I said in a hurried voice. I'm not much of a big talker, well, at least back then I wasn't. I didn't enjoy talking to my mom when she was in one of her "bad state of mind" moods swings. Don't get me wrong, we spent time together and I took joy in her barely-there company, but I wish she wasn't like she was. I guess in general I didn't accept her the way she was. I was selfish, maybe.

"Hello honey," said my dazed mother, "you want to go to the café for breakfest Because I just burnt what was supposed to be bacon and toast,” she said with a half smile. I gladly took her offer. It wasn't like her to take me anywhere. I usually went with my best friend Nick. So I stayed in my comfy clothes and took my mom's jacket out of the hall closet. I knew that even if it was 90 degrees out, she still needed her jacket. Some kind of protection, I guess. My mother always thought that the world was after her. Surely this aided to her severe depression and her drinking problem. Her drinking got in the way of everything, including our mother daughter friendship. But I have to say, I loved my mother. I know the words she couldn't ever really speak after my father’s death were that she really loved me too.

I opened the front door as the sun peered into our lonely home. The young kids across the way were running through a sprinkler and singing some crazy rhyme. I smiled at our next door neighbor that was getting his mail. He knew of my mother's condition because he could hear the nights when she screamed out names. Names of people I never heard of. My mom's situation was my murder. Fellow students at school laughed at me and my mom when she would come to pick me up from school. I just looked on. I couldn't change my mother, couldn't change that she was mine. But like I said, I loved her. My mom's weary hand grasped on to mine as we walked out the door. Every step she took was an achievement in itself.

We choose to go to our favorite café, The Burlington Town café, where the people there could somewhat relate to me mom. They didn’t mind her strange ways, which was unusual because most outsiders were quick to judge. “Hello Ellen,” the waitress said to my mother in such a warm and welcoming voice. “And hello to you Carrie.” She said to me. “Now what will it be for you guys?” I knew my mother would say that she would just have some coffee, black that is. Because it helped her with her hangovers. And no doubt that is what she ordered.

“Hi Liz, I would really like a hot cup of coffee, black of course.” My mom said slowly and loud, as if she thought that the waitress was deaf. Liz wrote down my mom’s order because she knew my mother would go frantic if she didn’t see her write it down. Liz, the waitress then looked at me and I said that I would like some tea and a muffin. My usual order too. By this time it was noon of July, 28th. My mom and I finished our breakfast and left the café. We were starting to walk home when all of a sudden my mom started crying. She knelt down on her knees and I then went down beside her.

“What is it mama? Are you okay?” I looked at my bawling mother and said. I wanted to cry too, because it hurt to see her in a pain that is not curable or preventable. Everybody says that my mom’s condition got worse after my dad died in a car crash. But it was all the same to me, at least at that time it was.

“I’m so, so sorry Carrie, for all that I’ve put you through. This past couple of years have been so difficult for me and I know you too. I haven’t been there, like a mother should. I…..”

“But mom, you are ill and are the one who is going through the most. I will never blame you or wish you were different.” I said this but half of it was a lie. I wish there was some magical medicine or pill to take away what she feels.

“Don’t ever think that I resent you. Mama this isn’t your fault! Stop crying Mom! Please!” I then realized about half the town was out on the streets watching my mom’s and my life unfold into pieces. I then knew our whole conversation was being put out there for all to see. What kind of freak will I be called tomorrow? I took my mother’s teary hand and helped her to her feet. I never said a word the whole walk home. Neither did my mother.

Together we walked into our house. My mom ran upstairs and I went over and laid on the couch. My thoughts were racing and I couldn’t keep straight which ones were real. I soon fell asleep with the TV still on. I didn’t really care what the night would bring and I sure wasn’t in the mood to do any work of any sort. I suddenly woke up and the moon was high I the sky. I couldn’t believe that I slept through the whole afternoon. I’m sure that Nick has at least tried to call me a few hundred times. I wanted to talk to him and tell him about my horrible day. Because I knew that he was the only one who really cared.

Distant family members were never here for my mom and me. They kept us out of the picture because we weren’t “normal”. What ever the heck normal is. I got up and went to the front door. Usually when I was asleep during the day or at school my mom would wait on the porch steps counting the minutes until I come and bring her inside. But when I looked outside, she wasn’t there. I wasn’t totally scared, but I knew that something was wrong. I walked briskly to the back of our house and still there was no trace of my mom. I heard the telephone ring and part of me thought it was Nick, and the other part was shaken in fear.

“Hello,” I said in an out of breath voice. “Hello is this Carrie. Are you Ellen’s daughter?” said the voice trying to be caring. But I wasn’t consoled. “Yes, I’m Carrie. Who is this?” I said. “I’m the Chief of the Burlington Town Police Department. And I’m sending a police car to your house. When you’re here, then we can talk. Goodbye Carrie.” The man said in a cold rattled voice. I hung up the phone and hurried to get on some new clothes. I knew my mother must have done something, but I was in fear for the worst.

The police car came in my driveway and the police man raced out to me. He said to me, “Come with me, and maybe we’ll make it in time to see her.” “I’m not a child, don’t candy coat what happened. Tell me now!” I screamed. I started crying. I didn’t want to hear the man’s reply, but knew I would have to hear it sooner or later. Cold tears ran down my reddened face and I was screaming as I it seemed my heart was bleeding. The police man lightly grasped my hands and told me my mother had jumped off a bridge on Highway 72. He said she landed in a river and was still conscience. But I saw the movement in his face as to say it was almost over for her. “Carrie, your mother is in the face of death, and her words to me when I left were to bring you to her. So, Carrie will you come with me?” the officer said. I took a hold of his warm hand and got into the police car.

The trip to the hospital was the longest ten minute ride I’ve ever had or ever will take. No words were exchanged on the way. But the silence was enough. Then, we got there. The officer and I ran into the emergency room and into the Critical Care Unit. That’s when I saw her, dead and cold. But yet a smile on my mother’s face. One that I had never seen her express to me. I went to her side and grasped her hand. I then saw that she had a note by her side that said, “I love you. And I knew the only way to make it better was give myself to the way the water moves.”

From the Streets to the Court by Joe D

“Everyone quiet down, Mr. Crane is going to talk to you for a little while,” said the YMCA director to the kids from the ages of 8-12.

“Thank you Miss Swanson, I think I’ve got it from here,” said Tyler Crane. “How are all of you doing today?”

“Good,” replied the high pitched voices.

“I have a story to tell you all and I hope you are willing to listen to what I have to say because it’s very important,” said Tyler. “Let me start from when I was about 14 years old, only a little bit older then a few of you guys. I grew up in the streets of Harlem, New York, not far from here, actually just a couple of blocks. I would always come here, to this very YMCA, and play basketball. Be it by myself or with a few of my buddies. I would stay here for hours at a time every day shooting around, lifting weights, swimming, but mostly playing b-ball. And don’t you think for one minute that if I did all of this I must not have done my homework, because school was a huge priority and I would make sure I got it done before I came here. I stayed here so long because I didn’t look forward to going home. My apartment was not the nicest of places, especially the location it was in. I never knew my dad and my mom worked nights at the local laundry mat. I had an older brother but he was in and out of jail most of my life, but he didn’t have any influence on me.”

“That sounds really scary,” said a voice from below him.

“It was, but I learned to get through it and life was okay,” replied Tyler. “When I got into high school life got better. I signed up for basketball tryouts hoping to find something to do while I am out of school. Tryouts were really tough but I thought I would at least make JV. I was devastated when I got my letter stating that I was cut from all of the teams and had to play DARE instead. But that didn’t stop me one bit, that event just made me work harder toward being a great basketball player. I came back next winter and I got a starting position on the Varsity squad. It felt great to receive that letter and I didn’t let the team down. The players gave me the nickname ‘T-Crane’ because I was such a stellar player. Our record was 18-0 going into the playoffs but we lost in the 2^nd round. The same exact thing happened the next year and our coach knew that the team would crush under the pressure of a huge crowd. But we over came our fear and made it to the championship game during my senior year. I was number one in scoring, rebounding, and assists in the history of my school. I hadn’t got a championship yet, and I wasn’t about to give this game up. We crushed our opponents, never letting up on them even when we were up by 35 in the 4^th quarter. It was a great feeling to get that win but I had another thing to focus on that year, college. I sent in a few letters to different universities around New York, and it devastated me to get those letters of rejection back. But I didn’t give up hope yet, and neither should any of you, even when the going gets tough. Instead of applying to New York schools, I decided to apply to the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. I thought it would be a waste of money to send the application, but it wasn’t. I received a letter in the spring saying I was accepted into UNC. I was so thrilled to be accepted, and my mom almost fainted. Not only did I get accepted, I got an all expenses paid tuition to the college also.”

“Congratulations Mr. Crane, I never knew that about you,” said the YMCA lady.

“Thanks, but I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” replied T-Crane. “At UNC I played all four years, but the same thing happened in high school, we didn’t make it to the championship game until I was a senior. Our team cruised through the Sweet Sixteen, Elite Eight, and Final four like a hot knife through butter. But I am not going to lie and say that the championship was a piece of cake, because we had to take on Adam Morrison and the intimidating Gonzaga Bull Dogs. We were up by 3 at the half but trailed 77-75 with 10 seconds left in the game. I had 4 fouls and I needed to steal the ball without fouling. Adam threw an extremely long pass and I saw it about to sail over me, but I jumped with all my might and snatched the ball from the air and landed on the half court line. This was my moment to show the scouts and the NBA that I wouldn’t crush under pressure and that I was clutch. I glanced up at the clock and it said 3.2 seconds, I took one dribble, jumped off my right foot, and tossed the rock into the air. If I make it we win, if I don’t we lose. It felt like the longest time for the ball to reach the hoop. I heard the buzzer go off and the greatest sound of my life, the swish of a perfect shot, sliding through the net.”

“Great job Mr.” said the 9 year old to Tyler.

“Why thank you,” responded Mr. Crane. “I went on to be drafted by the Boston Celtics, where I play now, and look how far I’ve come. Do any of you know why I had this talk with you guys today? Yes, the gentleman in the blue shirt.”

“Maybe you want us to work hard and never give up, no matter what,” said Jake.

“Exactly!” proclaimed T-Crane. “No matter what life throws at you or whenever the going gets tough, almost too tough. You should also keep striving to reach your goals.”

Near the End of Existence by Corey C.

The year was 2552. The last of the human existence has gone into hiding. The planet has been ravaged into war by the Predators, and the Galactic army. The war has plagued planets across the Galactic Republic, and entire civilizations have vanished. The Republic has been scarred badly. The president Vladimir Bhutto has been assassinated, and vice president John Huckabama Edwards McCain has been taken into captivity. Major General George Rumsfeld brought the division back to the command post. There they had taken a last stand until the back up arrived.

Chief of Staff Kade Klause was on his way with the Galactic Army. The 120,000 soldiers marched there way through the valley. They took each step with pride, because they were the last chance of hope for the human civilization. Some were equipped with plasma rifles, while others had the M-600 which was the newest version of the old M-60. The hover tanks strolled on by the soldiers, giving them a sense of protection. Just then, the soldiers walked up to a mound of freshly murdered bodies. By the look of it, the Predators must have eaten their organs, and left the rest to rot. Klause decided to bury the bodies, and he dug a grave 15 feet down, 10x10 wide. After the bodies were laid to rest, the chief of staff gave a short speech, and then they had a moment of silence.

Meanwhile Major General Rumsfeld was holding off the predators from trying to reach the city, where the humans were hiding. The predator’s landstalkers were moving in. Major General Rumsfeld took an RPG, and propelled a grenade loaded with millions of nano robots, that would quickly eat away the metal and computers of the landstalker. The behemoth came crashing to the ground, and rattled it so hard, that a giant gorge split the battle filed in half. This gave Rumsfeld an advantage, because it would slow the predators down. It was no problem for the soldiers, because there booster jet packs would get them right over the gorge. With every shot that the Predators took, the more vicious they got. They needed to be taken down in one shot. Major General Rumsfeld then called in Special Forces. Major Matthias Mattox plotted there vantage points, gave them special plasma rounds, and told them to move out.

Chief of Staff Klause was making his way to the Abandoned City as they called it, because it seemed like no one was there. He needed to make it up and over the mountain, through the Forest of Solitude, and across the river Thames. Once across they would have to hike 3 more miles until they reached the command post of Major General Rumsfeld. There he would try and crush the Predators for good, save the human race from being slaughtered. Getting up the mountain would be a treacherous feat. Once over it would be a quick hike to the river.

At the command post, Major Matthias and his other snipers took up there positions. He loaded the Plasma round into his chamber, and looked into his scoped. He aimed for the head. He pulled the trigger, and the bullet screeched as it left the barrel. The bullet was traveling at 2000 mph. The plasma heated up. It entered the head, and once inside it exploded. The limp body fell to the ground. Rumsfeld called in more Special Forces, and had them take up positions all around the battle field. All over, the heads were exploding. The predators switched out soldiers, and the Galactic Armies sniper rounds didn’t work any more. They needed Chief of Staff Klause’s plasma rifles.

Back at the mountain, they had made a trail for the tanks to travel up. They went slowly to make sure nothing went wrong. Five hours later, the last tank had made it up, and the last hundred soldiers followed. Going down the mountain would be easier, but they had to regroup at the base. There they made camp, and they would rest for a few hours. When the troops had awakened, it was sunny out. They picked up camp, and decided to get into the shade of the forest, before it got too hot. They twisted and winded around the serpent like path towards the river. Once at the river, they deployed the bridge. They all got across and headed for the command post. A couple miles later, they could hear the gun fire, and see the smoke from the flames of the destroyed land walkers. They readied there guns with the plasma rounds, and got into formation. They moved in, and started the attack. The predators were no match for the fully automatic plasma rifles. Chief of Staff Kade Klaus converged with Major General Rumsfeld. With the Plasma Rifles, and the snipers, the predators had a grim chance of winning. The leader came in, and the entire army fired upon him, like a firing squad in World War Two. The leader fell, and the Predators were crushed. Earth was saved, and the other planets were free of there rule. The galaxy had been liberated from evil.

A Walk in the Jiggy Jiggy Jungle by Connor A.

Mongo was on his daily walk through the jungle. Every day he left around mid afternoon and would be gone for hours, enjoying the beautiful sounds of the rainforest and everything else it had to offer. Mongo was from a small village in the heart of the South American rainforest. His village had been there for countless centuries and their way of life seemed perfect. Nobody ever fought with one another and everything belonged to the community as a whole. If you needed something all you had to do was ask.

Mongo did not need much though. He was old now and was just enjoying what was left of life. He never had a wife or children and he would often get lonely and it was times like those when he loved being in the jungle the most. On his walks Mongo would encounter all sorts of animals and plants that would mesmerize him and keep him staring in awe. Even the dangerous animals like jaguars and such didn’t seem to mind Mongo. He had a safe, easy going personality and never meant any harm.

One day Mongo had gone very far from his village and came to a giant river called the Amazon. He had heard stories of the crazy dragon creatures that lurked in the foggy water so he kept his distance from the river bank. He continued walking along the shore when he came to a little sandy beach cut in the side of the river. There, lying in the sand was a massive crocodile, bigger than anything Mongo could have imagined. Its head alone was as long as half of Mongo’s body. Mongo stood still and watched what the croc would do next. It looked old, very old, like Mongo. And suddenly it didn’t look so scary. Mongo crept along the beach behind the croc being careful not to step on its tail. When he reached the other side of the 15 foot mammoth he saw a very deep gash on the side of the crocodile’s neck. Mongo felt very bad and pulled out his hunting knife and some string he had. He then went back into the jungle and looked for the Cahya Caia thorns to use as a needle. He rushed back to the injured croc as fast as he could and knelt down next to it. Mongo was terrified but he knew he must help the creature. He quietly whispered to it, “Don’t be afraid, I will not hurt you.”

Mongo threaded the thorn and began to stitch the wound. For some reason the crocodile did not move. Not even open and eye. It just lay there breathing heavily as Mongo worked. When Mongo was done he cut the thread and stepped back from the crocodile. He then sat there for a while observing his patient. Finally after an hour, when Mongo was about to fall asleep the crocodile lifted itself up and crawled in the black water.

Mongo thought a lot about his strange encounter the day before. He was curious to see how the injured crocodile was doing so the next day he went back to the small beach on the river. When he got there the giant croc was no where to be found. This upset Mongo very much. He stayed for an hour scanning the water, looking for any sign of the huge reptile but he saw nothing. While Mongo was walking back home through the jungle he heard a thundering bang ring out through the wilderness. He dropped to the ground in fear and quickly crawled behind a big bush. He looked around trying to find the source of the disturbance. He then heard loud shouts and men yelling off to his right. He quickly scampered from one hiding place to another getting as close as he could to the ruckus. When the commotion came into view he was heartbroken. He saw the crocodile he had saved the previous day, shot dead on the ground with the hunters around him congratulating each other. There were 3 men and Mongo could tell they were from some other strange place beside the jungle. Mongo became furious and without even thinking he ran out with his hunting knife and stabbed the man closest to him. The other men were completely shocked by what had just happened and ran to get their guns but Mongo’s knife was already flying through the air towards to second man. It hit him in the stomach sending him to the ground in pain. Just as Mongo looked at the last man he took a thundering blow to the chest as a bullet slammed into him. He collapsed down next to the dead crocodile.

Mongo lay on the mossy covering of the jungle. He thought about the long life he had lived and all the good things he had in his life. And suddenly he was not angry, or scared or sad or anything. He accepted his fate and knew that he went down fighting. He looked up into the trees, his face going blank, and said, “Thank you Jiggy Jiggy Jungle.”

The Boy’s Last Confession by Anna R.

I wake up sweating underneath my bed covers. I hear the noise again that has woken me up. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and slip into my slippers. The noise starts to get louder as I take each step towards the door. I feel I am sweating once more as I reach my hand forward towards the door. I clasp the handle and turn it. The door makes a squeaking noise as I pull it towards me. I look out onto the forest. I can see no one on this dark and foggy night. I check one more time before I come to the conclusion that I was tired and it was making me hear things. I close the door and turn around and there it is, on the table, the knife that will haunt me forever.

After a few moments of staring at it, I decide to reach out and grasp the handle. I bring it down to my side and look around the kitchen to see how it could have gotten there. I am puzzled. I thought to my self that nothing can just appear out of nowhere. Someone must have put it there, and that means someone is in the house. I started to panic. With the knife held high I start walking around the house, trying to find the culprit. It takes a total of fifteen minutes for me to search the house. I found no one.

“Hello is anybody there!” I call out to the open house. “If you don’t leave I will call the police right now!” Still I received no answer. I guess I must have left the knife there and I can’t remember it, I thought. I concluded that I was going crazy, so I threw the knife in a drawer, and walked up the towering stairs to my bedroom. I jumped right into my bed, and turned to my side to look at the green glowing digital clock on my night stand. It was 5:00am, this little night escapade cost me an hour of my sleep. Since I had to wake up in only thirty minutes I unwillingly got back out of the bed. Man, what a morning this was turning out to be.

As the hot water poured on my face, I lost the thought of the knife and was only thinking of the presentation I had to make at work. I felt refreshed after the shower, even if it was only for a second. I still had to get stuff ready for my presentation, and I couldn’t find my lucky pen. I looked everywhere for it. The last place that was left to look was drawer with the knife. I hesitated a little, but I remembered I had to find my pen. I pulled the drawer open. There was good news and bad news. I found my pen no problem. The bad news was the knife was gone. I spun around as quickly as I could. There, in the same place as it had been previously, was the knife.

I felt like I was going to be sick. This was not normal for a knife to do this. Maybe, I thought, this was the workings of a ghost. It could be true. Nobody ever proved there were no such things as ghosts. Most people just didn’t believe in them. This was my only conclusion besides a mass murderer hiding in my cupboard just trying to freak me out. Somehow, I thought it was more plausible to have a ghost then a mass murderer after me. I thought of all the ghost shows I’ve seen, and the most logical answer that kept coming into my head was to free the ghost from what ever was keeping it from the after life.

I jumped on the computer to scan for any recent deaths in the area. Nothing popped out at me that could have been the murder. I then started to look for not so recent deaths. I saw the perfect murder. The article said:

Just yesterday afternoon in a small town called Boxboro, a young male has been found dead. His name was Jim Groundswell. Police found his body lying on a table, having been stabbed multiple times. There was an investigation on this murder, and girlfriend, Jenny Hinkle, has been charged with murder and awaits the trial………

Everything started to make since. The knife, the table, it was all linked to this murder. I had to think of a plan. I had to free this ghost, or it will haunt me forever.

“Jim!” I called out into my house,”I know you are there. Why are you haunting me? Are you trying to tell me something? Please explain these things, maybe I can help you.” All of a sudden it got cold; it was as if I went right into the Artic weather. I turned around to face the table, and there sitting on it was a young man. “Jim?” I asked. The figure nodded its head up and down. “What do you want me to do? How can I help you move on?”

He started to open his mouth. I could hear a faint word coming through his mouth. “Jenny……” I then realized he was talking about his girlfriend that had killed him.

“What do you want with Jenny? Isn’t she the one that killed you?” His head started to shake from left to right. I finally understood, she didn’t kill him, but if she didn’t who did.

As if he was reading my mind he said, “I did.”

With those last words he disappeared. My guess was that all he needed to do was clear his girlfriend’s name. He wanted to die without the guilt of someone, who he loved, taking the blame for what he did. I thought it was sweet of what he did. I was now happy for him that he could move on. I only thought about it for a minute though, because I was sprinting out the door to work.

The Freedom Fighters by Alex M.

The year was 2036. By this time, democracy had left the barren shores of America. A strong tyrannical government had taken root in Washington. Freedoms had been revoked. The Constitution was shredded. Liberty was suppressed. Books were burned. Newspapers were shut down. Any voice that was critical of the government was silenced.

***

But there was a rebel group named the Wolves who resisted the government oppression. They operated at night, out of sight of the government spies who were around every corner. They met secretly in the forest and planned how to fight the government. The spies and soldiers only patrolled the city, so they were safe in the forest.

Their activities were similar to other resistance groups; they put flyers in mailboxes, passed out banned literature, and occasionally clashed with government forces. They tried to stay away from the soldiers, because they were always vastly outnumbered when fighting them and as a result lost quite a lot of men when skirmishes broke out.

One warm night in August, the Wolves were shoving anti-government flyers into mailboxes, hoping to get new recruits. This technique actually worked, and that is why they had so many resistance fighters. But as they were about to leave the neighborhood, a group of soldiers patrolling the streets found them.

Gunshots rang out. The Wolves were being fired upon and didn’t have weapons to retaliate. So they hid behind houses, mailboxes, cars, and anything else that could provide shelter. People in the neighborhood, hearing the gunshots, woke up and went outside to see what was going on. There was a war going on in the street, and most of the people became frightened and hid inside.

Not all of the civilians were afraid, however. Many of them even sympathized with the Wolves. They were tired of the oppressive government taking all of their rights and were about to do something about it. The government had erased the 2^nd Amendment, and people were not allowed to have private firearms. But many ignored the law and kept them anyway. Those that had weapons used them. Now it was the soldiers that were being fired upon.

Confused and scared, the soldiers retreated further down the street. The also had called in reinforcements to crush the rebels, but it would take an hour for them to arrive.

So they immediately started building a barricade which they could fight behind. Sticks, trash, newspapers, and many other things were thrown on to the pile. They gathered what weapons they had and got ready for the battle.

Sure enough, fifty or so government troops marched down the street and towards the rebels and their barricade. The rebels were hidden, and it was dark, so the soldiers did not know where the enemy was. As the soldiers got closer, the rebels fired upon them, in perfect unison. The soldiers regrouped and fired back.

The battle lasted for about 45 minutes, and the soldiers eventually surrendered. They had suffered severe casualties while the Wolves suffered only minimal casualties. The Wolves had won the battle, but there was a long war ahead of them.

After the word of the soldier’s defeat spread across the nation, small pockets of resistance popped up nationwide. The revolution had begun. The Wolves, who had only started out with ten to fifteen members, now had thousands upon thousands of members. In a matter of months, major battles had been fought across the nation, and the government was losing a lot of ground. By now the Wolves controlled 70% of the nation.

It was a cold December morning, and snow was falling. The government and its soldiers planned to make a last stand in the nation’s capitol. The Wolves had surrounded the city. Each side was preparing for battle. The Wolves planned to enter the city in 45 minutes. All of a sudden, a man holding a piece of paper walked out of the city and towards the commanding officer of the Wolves. They were about to fire upon him, but he held his hands up in surrender. They lowered their guns and he stepped closer to them.

He was tired and dirty. His uniform was torn in many places. He was weak from starvation and dehydration. He handed the officer the dirty piece of paper. The officer read the paper, as if he were surprised. Then he read it again, and again, and several more times after that. It was a note to the Wolves written by the General of the government forces. He had surrendered and was prepared to give the city to the Wolves.

They had won. The war was over. Freedom and liberty had been restored to America. And they found the Constitution, which hadn’t been shredded after all, but was being temporarily stored in the basement of the White House. The one that had been shredded was a copy. Books were once again sold and read. Newspapers sprung up, and people read them like they did before the government banned them. But everyone remembered what had happened, and they were not going to forget it any time soon. They made sure everyone knew how evil government could be, so that a similar government would never occur again. As their leader once said, “We shall always remember, so we may always be free.”

Short story blog assignment comment criteria

I would like your short story comments to answer the following five questions:

I - Describe your personal reaction to the story. How do you feel after reading it? What do you remember? What images do you see? What concepts or ideas are in your head? What did the story make you think about?

II - Does the main character change over the course of the story? If so, what is his or her great insight or epiphany? How is this change important to the story? How would the story be different if the character didn't change?

If the main character does not change, explain why it was important that he/she remain static throughout the tale. How was the story arc dependent on the main character's personality?

III. What was your favorite part of the story? Did it occur in the exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, or resolution? Pick a line that you liked, copy and paste it into the comment box, put quotes around it, and explain what it was about it that stood out to you.

IV - Overall, what is this tale's best quality? It could be its characters, the conflict, the resolution, the description of the setting, the story arc, use of dialogue, etc. Use specific details and references to the story to explain why you thought this was its best strength.

V - What is one piece of advice that the author might consider for future writing assignments? This should be phrased constructively (try doing ------- next time, consider --------) or inquisitively (what do you think would happen if you -------------?)

Comments should be two to three paragraphs (8 to 12 well-written, informative sentences). Your comments should appear below the story you are responding to. When asked to choose an identity, click "nickname," then sign your comment with your first name and last initial. Comments not posted according to these instructions will be deleted.

I would like you to respond to a minimum of two essays per class (6 total). The essays will be up by the end of school on Thursday, Jan. 31st.

* Please bring a printed copy of your comments to class on Monday, Feb. 4th, as I will check them then. Your classmates and I thank you for your valuable feedback.

Six comments = a "check"

Nine comments = a "check plus"

For general information about posting blog comments, please click here.

What I Care About Most by Rachael B.

Who can say what is valuable and what

is not?  What do I think is most valuable?  I think

that anything that can’t be replaced is priceless. 

You remember that special moment years from now, or

will always have that certain sentimental item. 

Special moments are memories that you can’t put a

price on.  You can always buy new clothes, but an item

of clothing that someone made for you can’t be

replaced.  That someone who cares about you made that

item of clothing out of love, and you can’t put a

price on something made out of love. 

                There are countless moments and items

that are priceless to me. There is one in particular,

a quilt that my grandma made for me one Christmas.

When I was four years old, my grandma stopped by my

house with a gift. I had no idea what I was about to

see. When I tore the Christmas paper I saw the most

beautiful quilt. It had green and purple butterflies

and white swirls. The background was full of different

shades of purple patches. It was so creative, that I

could tell that it took a lot of time and effort to

finish. On the inside corner of the quilt she wrote my

name, the date, and how much she loves me.  Every

night I sleep with that quilt, and I plan to keep it

forever. Maybe someday I could give it to my child,

and hope that they will love it as much as I do.  

                I do value financial items too, such

as my CDs. Music is very important to me in many ways.

When I listen to music, it takes me to a different

place in my head. I use it to forget about any

problems that I’m having, and it makes me calm. I like

to listen to rock music, such as Led Zeppelin, Foo

Fighters, Nirvana, The Who, Pink Floyd, The Smashing

Pumpkins, Queen, and many more. When I listen to any

of the artists, I find that the lyrics really speak to

me. I enjoy listening to these certain bands because

the lyrics come from the heart. They are meaningful,

and I can sometimes relate to them. An example would

be Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain. His music to me it is very

deep and real. He was honest, and he expressed his

true feelings through his words and music. Music is an

important part of my life. 

              In a way my quilt and my CDs are

similar, and are opposite from each other at the same

time. Both of them bring me pleasure and help me to

relax. I sometimes use them at the same time. They do

have their differences though. If one of my CDs broke

I could always buy a new one and be satisfied. This

quilt was given to me when I was young, and those are

memories that I treasure. My grandma could always make

me another one, but it would not be the same. I have

had this quilt for so long that nothing can replace

it. I wouldn’t only use it as a blanket; I would wrap

myself up in it when I was upset, nervous, or scared.

When I do wrap myself in my blanket, it reminds me of

better times, and how much I’m loved. Not only does it

keep me warm physically, but also it keeps me warm

emotionally.

               Both of these items are important to

me, but which one means the most?

I would choose my quilt over my CDs. Why do you ask?

This quilt was made for me because she really cares

about me. Someone who takes the time and effort to

make me something means more to me than something

bought. It comforted me when I was small, and it still

does now. I like curling up in that quilt on rainy

days, when I’m sick, and when I start to get tired. My

CDs are important to me, but I can always buy new

ones. I can’t just replace a quilt that my grandma

made special for me. It means the world to me. I could

buy a replacement quilt, but wouldn’t be the same

because whoever made it didn’t think of me during the

process, like my grandma did. I plan to keep it

forever. Overall, financial items are nice to have,

but priceless items and moments mean even more to me.

I can live without materialistic items because they

are not meaningful in a sentimental way.

Value Essay by Martha H.

Value is to have relative worth, merit, or importance. Value is monetary or material worth, as in commerce or trade. Throughout our society, people value many different things. For example, a favorite movie may be valuable to you or a memorable time you watched a movie. Or maybe a person values a musical artist or a picture of a memorable experience. People have many different likes or dislikes that all differ from one other. But how does someone determine what has value? What does value really mean?

Sitting quietly, looking forward, everything else is drowned out. Thirty minutes till game time. No one seems to be talking; no one seems to be moving. Music surrounds me on every side. Twenty minutes, we’re at the field. Rhythms and beats are the only things heard. The sounds pump me up and prepare me for the game. Ten minutes, my mood is being lifted from each second that the sound is played. Never having to hear a song I don’t like. Game time and I’m ready to play.

Two hours left. The family sits in the car while nothing but trees seem to glide by for miles and miles. Chattering, soft music, and laughter fill the air. But after a while, the car begins to settle down. Whether I listen to it while reading or skimming a magazine, my music replaces the silence. The boredom of the radio is gone. The sound of my favorite music fills my ears. Listening to the radio is irritating. Half the time it plays commercials, and even when there’s a song playing there’s a good chance that you won’t like to listen to it. But why have to deal with this when you could listen to every one of your favorite songs? Why bother using the radio when mom makes you listen to a station that she likes and having to die of boredom? Listening to my Ipod changes everything, the long car ride now seems to fly by. The boring mood is quickly replaced and new vibes fill my head.

It’s been a bad day. Angry, sad, irritated, depressed, my Ipod fixes everything. Whether I had a bad game or just want to relax, I can listen to my music and get away from anything that’s happening. Instead of having just one type of music like a station on the radio, I have a variety of music. From rap to hip hop, country to rock, my Ipod has it all. After listening to my music I feel energetic and happy. My Ipod is something that’s always there for me to have. I can listen to it whenever I want, wherever I want.

Book in hand, Ipod blaring, we wait for the boat to depart. The car ride is over and we are about to depart on our way to Long Island. The big, shaking vessel was beginning to turn its engines and prepare for departure. When the fog is absent, the Long Island lighthouse is in clear view and the low strip of land, lying on top of the island is visible. While sitting on the top deck, my sisters at my side, the shaking of the boat increases. We talk about our plans for the weekend when a huge, long horn is released from the boat.

We finally depart from Connecticut. Long Island here we come. After two shorter boat rides to cut through Shelter Island, we finally reach Bridge Hampton. The old house creaks as we enter and we rediscover the familiar smell of the house. The house contains pictures and books dated back to the early 1990’s. The old antiques are funny looking when blended with the new modern day equipment. After unpacking quickly and getting into comfortable clothes, the family meets downstairs. On cold nights such as this, a large fire is stirring and the whole room is filled with its light. From Hearts to Rummy, the family eats and talks while everyone plays cards. After a few hands, Dad and Mom retreat to bed, and my sisters and I stay up. From Mean Girls to Scooby Doo, we watch our favorite movies. After a few movies, our eyes begin to droop and we retire to our rooms. While softly listening to my Ipod, I slowly drift off to sleep. The near by ocean waves crash against the solid land and acts as a lullaby, while we slip into a solid sleep. I can only imagine what exciting adventures we will experience throughout the next few days.

My trips to Long Island can be relaxing, commodious, and compelling all in one day. Without these trips, I believe a part of my childhood would be missing. My family’s best memories are while taking these short trips and I don’t think we’d be the same without them. With a salty ocean breeze and a cozy fire, I can’t think of something I would enjoy better. My Ipod provides serenity and comfort. It’s an item I value for the fun of listening to music. To have my favorite tunes with me wherever I go will always provide a positive effect on my experience. My Ipod always provides every type of music I enjoy.

My Ipod and my trips to Long Island may be two completely different things, but I value them for the same reason. My Ipod is my favorite electronic possession to use. It raises my spirits and pumps me up for a game and makes me all around happy. It makes even the most boring situations lively. On my trips to Long Island, I know I will never have a dull moment. With my family around me and being at my favorite place, puts me in a happy mood. Having both of these items makes me relax and unwind. Long Island and my Ipod make me happy and that is the most important reason on why these things are so valuable to me.

Value Essay by Madeline D.

What does value mean today? Value means more than what something really is. People today don’t really care how much money they spend on things, if they want it then they will buy it at whatever price it is. I think that almost everyone is high maintenance and get what they want, when they want.

The other team has the ball just a few yards away from the goal. Number 17 has the ball I read where her pass is going. I jump with my stick in the air and intercept the pass. I’m now sprinting down the field while dodging players left and right. I pass to an open player just ahead of me to my left. Give and go. She passes back to me and I take a few steps and shoot hard to the top left corner. Goal! That is just one example how one of my lacrosse games go. My lacrosse stick is very valuable to me. Yes it did cost 120.00 dollars, but I use it almost everyday. I got it for Christmas about 2 years ago. It’s black with some white and the netting is yellow and white. It’s made by the company harrow and is a solo which means that the head and shaft are connected as one. I think that spending money on something you really love and spend a lot of time on, then it’s worth the buy.

January 10^th, it was a cold, winter day. It was snowing here and there. I get the chills and decided to make myself some hot chocolate. I opened the cabinet to get my favorite mug and the got the package of coco. I put on the sink, and let it run until the water was steaming hot. I added the water and coco into my mug, and then put it in the microwave for 30 seconds, so it would stay hotter for a longer period of time. Once I heard the buzz of the microwave I grabbed the mug and added 18 mini marshmallows. Then I carefully walked into the living room trying not to spill any over the edge. I turned on the fire and sat down on the couch. I snatched a cozy blanket just beside me and rapped chilled body around it. I turned on the TV and watched my favorite movie Mean Girls. My favorite movie is Mean Girls because it’s about girls roughly my age going through their high school career. It is about three bitchy girls who are very pretty and popular. Almost every girl wants to be like them. Then, there is this new girl named Cady, who moves from Africa and has never been to a real school before. She becomes friends with this girl named Janis and this gay boy named Damien. They absolutely hate the plastics, which are what the three mean girls are called. They come up with this plan to have Cady pretend to be friends with the girls, but really spy on them. It turns out that Cady really likes them and they she becomes really mean and popular, and in the end almost everyone hates her, but Janis and Damien become friends with her again.

I really can’t compare these two things. They are completely two different things, but both represent something great. They both give me a different feeling, but it is the best feeling in the world. They adrenalin you get from playing lacrosse is like a natural high. You can’t get any better than that. When I am relaxing by a fire and drinking hot chocolate while watching my favorite movie can’t really compare to anything else. Those two things are so valuable to and I wouldn’t trade moments for the world.

So, still wondering what value means? It means what you want it to mean. Anything could be valuable to you. Maybe it is a lacrosse stick or drinking hot chocolate, maybe even just spending time with your family. Value can be worth so much more than it is, but sometimes in a very good way. Value doesn’t always mean good, but when it does it is a wonderful feeling. People take things for granted, and make value so much more than it really is.

My Values by Zack T.

In our world today everyone wants the best of the best. It is hard to learn that something valuable to you is not always expensive, and sometimes the item is priceless. Yes you could buy a multi-million dollar house, or you could have something priceless, such as friends or family that are always there for you. For me, there are things that I value that are expensive, and things I value that are free. Both mean a lot to me but my friends and family I could not replace, whereas I could replace my ipod or bike.

My bike is the most valuable thing I have that costs money. I value it for a few different reasons. First of all, it gets me everywhere I need to be, without bothering someone for a ride. Also, instead of wasting gas and polluting the world, I ride my bike for free. When a car takes about 5 minutes to drive 3 miles, I can ride my bike 5 miles in 10-15 minutes. As I am doing so, I am getting lots of exercise and enjoying the day.

I love bikes. I ride my bike everyday of every week. It is very fun and I love to do it. There have been a couple of times when I have ridden my bike very far without even realizing it, and then having to turn around. The only thought on my mind was that I had to ride my bike back the distance I had already rode it. My bike is silver with some red on it and a little black, and is called an SE. My bike is a very unpopular bike because only a few of them were ever made. It costs $500.00 when it is not on sale. Thankfully I went to go buy it when it was on sale and it only cost me $350.00. My bike is great, and I love to go on long exhausting bike rides with it.

There are also things that do not cost money, but are still very valuable to me. These include my friends, family, spending time with grandparents, or anything else of that sort. Even though they are priceless, my friends are the most valuable thing I have. They are always there for me and will support me no matter what I do. I also know that I can always trust them.

Every day after school when I was younger, me and all my neighborhood friends would meet up. I had 3 friends that lived in the neighborhood, all of them were 2 years older than me, but that didn’t matter. We would get together and skateboard, or play video games, and a lot of other things. Unfortunately though, one of them moved to the other end of South Hadley, and one of them I just don’t hang out with anymore.

I also have made friends away from my neighborhood, up at the campground I go to. I go camping every weekend and hang out with friends up there in the Berkshires. They mean a lot to me and I know that I can do anything and they will support me. They own the campground, so we will do work there and keep the place clean while having a good time. Friends are great to have because anything you need help with they will know what to do. When you have a friend for a long time, you start acting similar and knowing a lot about the other person. I can trust my friends to get me my homework if I miss a day of school, or I can trust them to watch my dog when I go on vacation. Friends are great to have, and you can never have enough.

So as you can see, something that is valuable to you could cost $500.00 or it could be priceless. My bike does mean a lot to me, but I have no clue what I would do without my friends. Friends are always there for you, but whenever you ride a bike, you know it will be a great time. Value to me is enjoying something and how much something means to you, it has nothing to do with money. All in all, I value things that cost money, and things that are priceless.

My Values by Zak G.

As the saying goes, you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. In life, people take many things for granted. Sometimes we are blind to see what matters most to us. I have many values in my life and I appreciate them. I have had many values in my life that I really appreciate and these values can help people to live good lives.

My lacrosse stick is one of the most valuable things to me. It costs two hundred twenty five dollars. The shaft on my lacrosse stick is a silver Debeer Titanium Enhanced. My lacrosse head is called a Brine Answer and it is purple. I have had my lacrosse stick for about a year now. I got it last year at one of my Western Mass All Star lacrosse tournaments at the University of Massachusetts. My lacrosse stick has been basically everywhere that I have been since I have had it.

I take my lacrosse stick with me everywhere I go because sometimes I might be bored and I will just do tricks with it and having your lacrosse stick with you will only make you have better stick skills and be a better player. Also, whenever I am near a school or something with a solid wall I will play wall ball with my lacrosse stick. That is one of the best things that you can do to make yourself better at stick skills. My first lacrosse stick that I ever had was only about thirty dollars. I actually got it on vacation when I went to New Hampshire. It was an all blue stick. After that year I started to play lacrosse.

Sunday mornings are probably the best day of the week. I can sleep as late as I want and I know that I don’t need to rush in order to get to school on time. I usually sleep until around 11 o’clock. I roll out of my bed and by doing this I wake up my dog also because he sleeps right next to my bed. I go out to the kitchen and I can smell the pancakes and the bacon. My mom always cooks pancakes, bacon, and eggs on Sunday mornings for breakfast. My two sisters and I play sports so my family doesn’t get to eat together a lot because of sports. On Sundays we usually are all here for breakfast though. After I eat I always watch Sports Center for about an hour if I wake up early enough but if I don’t I watch the pre-game show for the NFL football games. On Sundays I always stay home until at least around 5 because I always bet on the games so I want to see the games that I bet on. My favorite team is the New York Giants so I always watch the whole game no matter what. Sunday mornings and that overall day is amazing because I usually don’t have to do anything the whole day I just lie around.

On some other Sundays my family will go out to eat. Most of the time that we go out to eat we would go to Ihop. I would always get the same thing. I would get pancakes, bacon, and eggs with chocolate milk. That’s all I have ever got from there. After that my dad would drop off my mom and my two sisters at my house and we would go somewhere to watch the football games that day. If my family went out to eat me and my dad would always go out somewhere to watch the football games, but if we stayed at home to eat my dad and I would stay home to watch them. I always like to out to eat because we usually go to my Uncles house and he has a 60 inch flat screen television.

I have many things that I value such as my lacrosse stick, but I can’t compare that to my Sunday mornings. Some things that you can put a price tag on can be very valuable to you but not as valuable as something that you can’t put a price tag on. If I could choose one of the two to always have forever I would easily pick Sunday mornings because I can replace my lacrosse stick. I don’t think I could replace the fun time that I have on Sunday mornings. You can replace the things that may be valuable but some other things you can’t.

As you can see, sometimes you can’t just buy the things that you want. You could be really rich, but at the same time you might not have a good life. You need to appreciate the things that life gives you. In my life I have many values that I can put a price tag on but at the same time I have many other “priceless” moments.