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Voice - Lara does a good job using her voice in her story, making the characters sound like they're actually alive.

Organization - Lara organizes the character's thoughts making them clear and easy to understand.

word choice - The words that Lara chose made the story come to life and like I could actually experience what the character was experiencing.

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I get home from school at 5:45 after football practice. My heavy bag filled with homework for every class dropped to the ground. I grab my bag by the strap and drag it across the floor as sweat drips into my face. Once I finally get to my room I immediately fall face-first into my bed. Trying to figure out if I had enough time to complete my homework before dinner. When I finally remember that I have homework to do I walk over to my desk and slump over in the chair. I just finished my second to last piece of homework and am about to pass out. However, right before I can a nice cool breeze brushes my face through the open window. That gave me just enough energy to finish my last piece of homework. As soon as I finish I walk over to my bed and take a good 1 hour nap before finally waking up to the smell of dinner.

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My writing style is realistic. It is realistic because everything that I wrote could happen in real life. For example, everything I wrote has happened to me but in a different order.

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I thought that the vocabulary used was great by Fischer. These really helped add to the mysterious and unnerving feel of his story. His writing type is suspenseful as you don't know what's gonna happen next. The way his story is organized makes it very easy to understand and the pace it goes at makes it a great story to read. With the story he paints a picture into my mind and it makes the story much more intriguing. The suspenseful tone adds much more to this already amazing story.

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This story is about a kid named Charlie who is playing an online game and finds a hacker with an ominous character. Charlie beats the hacker and the hacker says the kid is in danger now and that he messed with the wrong person. Charlie then goes to sleep with the window open, the door closed, and no nightlight. He wakes up in the middle of the night to see eyes of blinding red light seeming to tell him about horrible things like the devil. Charlie tries to go back to sleep, the voices just get louder and more clear. He goes to his dads room only to see the eyes shaped in a pentagram with his dad speaking unknown words in the center of the pentagram. Charlie jerks awake and realizes it's just a dream. It was just a dream! He goes down for breakfast only to see his dad has gone insane due to voices in his head and seeing red everywhere.

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My writing style more like descriptive. I like to get into detail in my stories. I feel like I don't really like writing anything but fiction/fantasy. I like short stories too.

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The man woke up in the morning and looked at his wall of fish pictures. He had bought those pictures at his friend's antique shop. He smiled and left the room for work. After he left, the big fish started to peel off of the wall. It fell off and landed on the floor. “Ah yes, finally. I am free from that wretched picture!” “BRODDAS!!” All the fishes started to peel off the wall.

“Yay!” they all shouted. “We are free!”

“We are,” said the big fish. “Now, let us play jazz!” They pulled out their instruments and started to play.

Five hours later, the man returned home. He unlocked the door, and dropped all of his things, shocked at what he saw. There were fish, playing jazz, on his floor.

The big fish said, “You like jazz?”

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My writing style is fanciful. I made up a situation where inanimate objects came to life. That kind of thing can't happen in real life.

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Word Choice - The words you used added a comedic effect that got me to laugh.
Ideas - The idea of Jazz Fish was awesome. I think that the way you expressed that idea was also very good.
Conventions - The conversions used were very explanatory and were used well. For example, all commas after quotes were correct.

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A boy named Ron lived in Rome who was strulgging to see

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My writing style is descriptive. I used a lot of imagery to help my reader's paint a picture in their mind of the setting. For example, when describing the Italian courtyard, I wrote "the cobblestone on the ground looked like smooth pebbles at the bottom of a fish bowl". By including this simile, I helped my reader to better visualize what my setting looked like.

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The old man was about to go to bed when he suddenly received a call from the hospital. His wife had died. The love of his life, the only person he thought would ever love him. So he drowned his sorrows with alcohol​​. Eventually he got drunk and started expressing his anger on everything around him. Including the chair she sat in whenever they ate dinner, and the lamp she always read under before bed. After he beat the lamp with the chair, having broken the table and chair too, he proceeded to wallow. Crying till he had no tears left, whining till he could whine no more, and feeling sadder than he ever had before. He had received the call on his home phone, so he couldn’t pick up the phone while he was at work. That's what made him feel worse, he could’ve been there to help her, but instead he wasn’t, making him bask in his own guilt. On his face the man wore a stern expression and was obviously guided to his actions following the rage on her death. They hadn’t even lived life to the fullest yet, they were planning to have children, renew their vows, go on their first family vacation. Even though the call didn’t state the specifics he knew what had happened, she was on her way back home from work when suddenly a drowsy tow truck driver hit her car. Since he didn’t want to get in trouble, pay for the damages, and eventually lose his job, he decided to run. It was a classic hit-and-run, one that would be presented in movies. Now the man lay alone in his house, in an empty house, having no one to comfort him.

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sentence fluency- Aylin has good sentence fluency because she uses a lot of detail and good description. for example, she really highlights how the man expressed his anger when his wife died

Organization- Aylin keeps things in chronological order and makes it clear when talking about something that happened in the past.

Word choice- Aylin uses descriptive words to give the reader a visual of the story. for example, she uses the words, "whine" and "rage"

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As the child laid comfortably in bed, he was not aware of a strange supernatural event going on. Lights were scattered throughout the sky. These strange lights were never seen before in town, so no one knew anything about them. However, these lights were signals from a UFO. UFOs were coming to this children’s planet, and the UFO’s lights were supposed to appear more friendly, to ward the humans into a false sense of security. Eventually, the boy woke up in the middle of the night, blinded by the lights. He stared in wonder at what the lights could be or what they mean. Eventually, UFOs gathered, and the boy hid. The UFOs searched and searched and searched, but could not find the boy, who was shockingly, their only target, for an unknown reason. Thankfully, the boy was safe, and so was civilization.

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I believe that my writing style is fanciful because of the supernatural events that take place in the story. Normally situations like the ones in my story would not take place in the real world. This why I believe my writing style is fanciful.

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Sean's Story
Sean uses lots of good sentence fluency throughout his story, so you can understand his story well. There were no bad or choppy sentences.
He also had good word choice. He used descriptive language to paint a picture in the reader's mind.
Sean also had lots of ideas that were good for his story. His idea about UFO's was very creative and good.
Lastly, Sean's has a supernatural tone in his story.

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It was a bright, sunny day in New York City. Billy woke up and got out of bed. His room had a wallpaper that had birds plastered over it. When Billy went to open the door to his room, so he could go to the bathroom, the entire door came off its hinges. He didn’t use any force at all. Billy was flabbergasted. When he went to open the bathroom door, it came off too. Something was up. Could Billy have super strength? Billy thought about what to do with his powers. He finally got it, he could help fight the local crime in the city. Later in the day, he saw that there was a robbery going in the grocery store across the street. He quickly jumped off the couch and got in his car. In the blink of an eye, he was at the store. Billy fought the criminals off with his strength easily. After that day, Billy helped with all the crime in the city. Soon everybody in the city knew who Billy was. He was praised and admired for his work.

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Ideas- Ryan has a very interesting story concept that no one else tried, and I did not expect the story to go where it did. Word Choice- Ryan used some very interesting words that help his scenarios come across easier (ex. plastered, flabbergasted, praised). Conventions- Ryan uses a variety of conventions in multiple different places, such as asking questions to the reader, which I think was very clever. Ryan's style is fanciful.

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“YOUR FIRED!!” Jake said… Tears were streaming down my face and my cheeks turned red. Anger flourished inside of me. I left my bosses office stomping heavily. I rode my bike home slowly. At a red light one of my friends confronted me and said, “Hi Nico”.

“Not in the mood Sam”. I answered.

“Wanna hang out later?” He asked.

“NO! Please just go, I’m not in the mood!” I replied.

“Geez alright…” He said. Once the light turned green he left and I continued on my way home.

“Great. Not only did I get fired but I lost my best friend.” I told myself. Of course, it was my fault but I didn’t mean anything I said. I had just blurted out random things because I was mad at my boss, Jake. Once I got home I entered my home and noticed I had forgotten my keys at work. The anger inside my body rose and I was ready to punch myself in the face. I had to climb through my window. As soon as I got in I rushed to my room and laid in bed. In front of me was a table with a broken light connected to a cable on the wall. There was also a chair next to a bookshelf. I got on my phone only to notice that my friend, Sam, had blocked me. “THAT'S IT!” I screamed. I grabbed the chair and threw it at the light. The light broke and the table fell on the floor with the chair. I was sweating profusely and my eyes were filled with tears. The room fell dull and felt boring. I was done with life. Everything had gone wrong today. I got fired from my job, my room is now a mess and filled with tears, and I had lost my one friend I had. Life was now pointless.

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As the boy, Louis, drifts off to sleep, he begins to dream about a fictional world. He spawns in a magical forest where the trees talk, there are gnomes all around, and most importantly, the castle entrance is prohibited. Louis, being the curious boy he is, starts walking toward the castle, until a tree stops him.

“Boy! What are you doing? The castle entrance is absolutely forbidden.” Louis turns back around, slumps, and is feeling gloomy as his adventure is being stopped. Still full of curiosity, he decides to start digging in the ground with a nearby shovel he found lying on the ground. Surely there are underground chambers to the castle, I’ll just start digging, he thought to himself. While he was digging, he stumbled across a gnome, that didn’t look exactly like a gnome. The gnome had a small hat, and a pointy nose, and was a tiny bit taller than regular gnomes.

“Where are you going?” the gnome questioned.

“The castle,” Louis replied.

“Well, I will go with you!”

“Ok.” Louis skeptically replied. Louis and the gnome were set on the adventure to the castle. It took a few days, but the gnome always brought extra food with him so they stayed full. After all that digging and talking they made it to the secret entrance of the castle. They soon realized that they were in the underground chambers which rarely anyone goes in. As they approached several corridors, they saw one particularly peculiar. It had a door at the end of it that was made out of thousands and thousands of gems. They turn the knob and see something extraordinary…

My writing style: I think I have a narrative writing style. A narrative writing style includes fiction and I like to write fiction stories. For example, I included in my story, "He spawns in a magical forest where the trees talk, there are gnomes all around, and most importantly, the castle that entrance is prohibited." Narrative styles can also include fanciful events that can't happen, which I think is interesting to write about.

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Ideas - Lenka's ideas are very original and work very well to represent the elements of her fictional world.
Sentence fluency - Lenka's sentences make sense and work well together to keep the story and its plot easy to understand.
Word choice - Lenka's word choice is very mature and helps to communicate a further level of understanding and description to her story.
Her tone is suspenseful with the cliffhanger ending.

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“And for our last item,” The auction man boasted, “A painting by John D. Kelheer,” There are lots of murmurs, “John D. Kehleer? I thought all his works were burned!”

“That’s right everybody, by John D. Kehleer,” Exclaimed the auction man, “Last existing one”

“Well, what’s the starting bid then?” A man in a pink three-piece suit asked.

“Ah, well, it’s only $127 million,”

“That’s it for the only one in the world?” A woman in a dark blue suit asked.

“Wait, so there’s two in the world? What about the one at B.A.N.N. International Museum?” The man in the pink suit asked.

“No, B.A.N.N. shut down last May because the Feds said they can’t keep it open. They said it was at too high risk of robbery.”

“$127.5 million!” A man in a black tuxedo yelled.

“$127.5 million! Anything higher?” The auction man asked the crowd.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!* “FBI open up!” The man through the door yelled. The security guards pulled the fire alarm and the fire escape door opened and the auction man made a run for it. “You thought we didn’t think of that?!” The FBI Agent yelled as burst through the door and the security guards came down with it.

“Ahhh!” all the guests were screaming and yelling and running around like crazy.

“You guys are all fine. Get out the door though now!” The FBI Agent said.

Moments later…

Weeeee Woooooo! Weeeee Woooooo! “That auction guy was a robber and he stole the John D. Kelheer painting,” Another FBI Agent explained to the crowd of people who were at the auction.

My writing is realistic. It's realistic because the people and actions explained are reasonable and could happen in real life. For example, "A man in a pink three-piece suit" is possibly someone you would see at an auction.

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Conventions- Max uses conventions really well. The exclamation points help emphasize the feeling in the room and show the emotion of the people.
Voice- Max paints a picture using words that describe what it looks like and how it feels.
Word Choice- Max uses good dialogue to enhance the writing.

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I think my writing is traditional and narrative. I think this is because my writing includes some words like dull and boring. I also think it is narrative because it includes a lot of dialogue.

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This man with a chair entered this room. The room was already creepy enough.The window was open with a breeze in the air. If that wasn’t creepy enough the room keeps adding new stuff. They added new furniture. Today was a drawer and a bed. The only thing that was the same was the wall. The wall paper was the same but everytime there was one bird always missing. The man looked at the other walls and was surprised. There were two balls of light just floating there. Without a lamp. He threw the chair and the chair blew up. They light that blew up the chair (lets call this one light #1) started moving toward the man. The man ran out of the room and slammed the room. He knew that everytime he shut the door the room would change. He opened the door. The room wasn’t changed. Both lights flew at the same time at him super fast. He ducked and the lights teared right through the wall. He looked at the wall. The lights started fusing. The lights turned to the white bird that was missing from the wallpaper. The white bird grabbed the man by the shirt and threw him out the window. Then, it went back onto the wall and was ready to haunt the next person who came to there.

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Voice - The narrative establishes a sense of suspense and tension, creating an eerie/ creepy atmosphere with descriptions like "creepy room," "open window with a breeze," and the unexpected appearance of strange lights. This demonstrates strong voice.
Organization - The story follows a clear sequence of events, from the man entering the room, encountering the strange phenomena, attempting to escape, and ultimately being confronted by the lights. The events are presented in a logical, chronological order.
Ideas - The introduction of supernatural elements, such as floating lights and the transformation into a white bird, showcases creative thinking and originality. These three attributes present strong writing and help the reader become more immersed in the writing.

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I think mine is supernatural because the things that happen are supernatural. Like the balls of light floating. Or transforming.

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I think my writing style is fanciful. I think this because lots of supernatural events occur in my story. For example, the main character in my story wakes up and magically has superpowers. He then uses his superpowers to fight crime.

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My writing style is realistic. Its realistic because everything in the story can be real, and all the things I described in the story.

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One day on a very scary and cold night A man named Bill was really mad that he lost a bet for the Cleveland Browns that was a $500 dollar bet and he got so angry he was destroying his whole house. At one point while he was having his tantrum he went outside and threw a chair in the air and hit a bird. The bird crashed to the ground and died. The other birds got together and flew in and painted  his son, Andrew's bedroom wall with birds all over and hid there. When Bill walked into Andrew's room he was so infuriated  about the birds mocking him that he moved Andrew's bed outside while he was sleeping. When Andrew woke up Bill  told him everything that happened.   The birds took over the house and Bill and Andrew had to move to a different state. When they bought their new house they found out it was right next to a bird sanctuary THE END.

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Long ago there was an orphan girl who had a doll, she never went anywhere without the doll. The doll had brown curly hair and amber gold eyes, the doll had pink and white lips. The doll was the size of a big baby. This girl stayed in the orphanage until she was 12. When she finally got adopted she brought the doll with her but the women who adopted her made her throw it out. The next day the doll was still there with the child. This kept going on for a week then the women broke the doll she thought that the madness was finally over. Days later the girl was complaining that the wall paper was moving in her room. THe women came into the room seeing that there was a bird missing from the wallpaper. Then she saw a lump in the carpet. The window opens. Then she decided to move but when it was time to move The woman couldn’t find the little girl. Then when she walked into the room she lived on the carpet lifeless. Then when women walked in, the lifeless body came to life chasing the women. When the woman saw the child's eye she saw that they were the amber gold the dolls were, when she looked at her lips they were the same pink and white color. Then as the girl ran she shrank and shrank into the size of the doll. Then the girl stopped moving. When the woman realized she looked back and saw the girl was now the doll. The woman then picked the doll up and became a little girl and went back to the orphanage. In the news people reported the missing women but she was never found then when the woman saw the news all she did was grin.

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-Sarah used suspense for the story's tone, especially near the end of the short story.
-the fluency and setting helped me the most, and the story was very descriptive when going into details.
-the word choice was great when describing the doll.
-the organization helped with moving the story along and transition words told me when the setting changed

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I think that my writing style is fanciful. It's fanciful because a person becoming a doll is unrealistic, and because supernatural events happen frequently.

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There once was a crazy old guy who was a kidnapper and stole from people. His name was Freddy the 7th. He would smash up the house of the kid that he got in his goofy white van. It Had so much tasty and great-smelling candy that it could mask the smell of blood. The blood was in the back so you could not see it. HIS nasty tools were with him in the side door so people and police could not see them. He got a hall of 7 kids that he got to bring to his weird house and he was using a chair to smash a lamp and he was taking all of the things that were so valuable so he could buy some better things for his house and his white van. Now he is yelling at the kid in his basement. The basement was very very clean and there were over 95 kinds of video games. He is just a fun party holder who does pranks in the house for other people and has a lot of food. it is realistic because no supernatural elements

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Very funny story. I can describe it as funny. This story is realistic because it is about events that can really happen. This is a great book.

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My writing style is realistic. It is realistic because I didn't use any non-realistic things in my story, like the bird coming out of the wall. I explained the man's feelings in my story and also included some of what he did to help himself.

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This story is about an old man trying to kill a spider.This geezer is mad at a spider in his lamp. He is trying to kill it. It is really fast. It is smart. He smashed his table instead of the spider. Since he is so old he can’t kill it. He calls his wife down and asks for her to kill it. Since she is also too old they have to call the police. The police officer tries to smash it with the chair but it is also too fast. All of a sudden the spider jumps onto the dresser and then the police officer has his chance. He pulls out his gun and shoots it right in the head. The old geezer then takes a picture of what happened and shoots himself in the foot with the officer’s gun. AAAAHHH. The officer brings him to the hospital. At the hospital the geezer tells a completely different story of what happened. He says the officer barged in his door and shot him. They eventually go to court and the officer wins because of his body cam. The end.

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This story is realistic because although it isn't likely for it to happen it could. There are no special powers. It is all based on something that could happen

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Dad hates rats. He doesn’t know this, but some of our neighbors have rat infestations. Yesterday I was walking to my room and I found a rat in the little hole in the wall. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but I was wrong. Later that night I was sleeping when I heard a large “bang!” I walked downstairs and saw my dad trying to kill something in the bed. I saw the lamp and the table hitting the ground. I realized the figure in the bed was a RAT! Mom ran down the stairs “What happened?” she yelled. I looked at her with a guilty face. “There’s a rat in the bed!” Dad screamed with fear. That was a chaotic night. And when I told dad that I knew, he grounded me for a month.

I am realistic fiction. I like to make things up, but in a realistic way. I like writing things that readers can relate to. I like reading things I can relate to, it makes things fun.

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Remy was coming back from work, it’s his 60th birthday but he has nobody to celebrate with. Nobody wished him a happy birthday. Nobody entered his store. Remy is low on money and hasn’t paid his bills in months. His heating is being cut, his water is being cut, and today, on his lonely birthday, is the day his electricity gets cut. After coming home, the man saw a rat under his carpet. He raged, lifting chairs and knocking through objects he was determined to kill this rat after the worst day of his life. At last, the rat was cornered, with nowhere left to go. The man grinned as he pictured the death of this rat. After everything the Rat has done to him, after his sorrowful day, he could not let him go. But suddenly, as the man had just relieved the stress of the rodent in his home, accepting his situation, shattered glass, and more, the man passed out.

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This is a very funny story. I recognized the idea that went into this. As bigger authorities come to check the situation out, worse things happen. Because of this idea I think your writing style is comic.

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I am a realistic writer. I write about things that can happen and did. I wrote about concerns different people have in life. This is what being a realistic writer is.

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Sentence fluency- His sentences flow nicely. The sound is nice too. His word choices are nice. The words he uses are not repeating. His voice comes out too. It really describes how he is.

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I like your story Logan. It's funny, creative, and lovable. I think that the grammar is all right but the part that says "accepting his situation, shattered glass, and more" doesn't sound right. Other wise, Your story is great.

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Once there was a very lonely, pretty, bright, and healthy looking tree. It was the type of tree you would imagine when someone says “that tree looks so perfect. ” One day a family was going on a hike on a popular town road. The family was hiking when all of a sudden a girl said “that tree looks so perfect!” The family looked over and said “that tree does look perfect, go stand by it and I can take a photo of you!” The mom said. The girl said “okay” and her mom took the photo. The girl said we should one day come back and write on the leaves to make people happy when they walk by. The next day the family came back to the trail on that popular street and they brought markers and pens. The family started writing away. They wrote all the positive words they could think of. When the family was finished, they decided to all take a family photo under that tree. Later the mom posted on her Facebook page that beautiful tree and the words they wrote on it. The next morning the mom wakes up with 100,000 notifications saying “we are headed on our way over to write a positive word we bet you don't have yet!” The family was stunned when they found out everyone was finding out about this tree so quickly. They rushed out the door and finally got to the tree. They were stunned when they saw how many people were standing by the perfect tree. Everyone looked so happy and joyful, the tree was looking even happier than the people now since it had such positive words on it to help people to keep going when they are sad.

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I woke up to the sound of a voice. Who was talking this loudly I thought? And I wasn't in the mood to wake up early. Besides, it's not like there's somebody trying to sleep in here! The muffled voice continued. I couldn't make out any words though, just the sound of a voice.

That was it! I am too tired, and if someone was messing with my sleep, they'd regret doing that.

I pulled off my covers and hopped off the bed. But before I could take another step, I tripped on something spread out across the floor. Don't make a sound! I thought. I didn't want the talking to stop, I needed to know who was talking. Which for some reason was important to me? Climbing back to my feet, I silently grabbed the nearest object in front of me. What? What did I grab!?! Dang it...did I grab a...? A yo-yo!?! How come this was the closest object? And when did I ever have a yo-yo? Anyways, this will have to do, I thought while walking towards the closed door.

"Hello?" I said, "Come out, I know you're there!" I pushed open the door as fast as lightning and swung the yo-yo like crazy. Wha...? Nobody was there. I didn't take it personally that I just talked to the walls. Since I already knew nobody was here in the hallway, I didn't worry about it. But since I was up and running, I realized I was hungry. After placing my yo-yo next to my bat I walked down the stairs loudly because I didn't have a care in the world, well except for waking my parents. I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a banana. It was oddly quiet. Of course, it was quiet! It's the middle of the night, I thought. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that someone could have been talking outside my room. That made me look around the kitchen. Nobody was there, it's all good. And I wasn't a scaredy cat! I was barely afraid of anything! But I couldn't stop a shiver going down my spine. Why did it feel like someone was watching me and my every move?

I think my writing is descriptive since I had really descriptive and realistic parts in my short story. I thought about a funny but spooky story to write about.

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-Suspense Chloe uses suspense to make the reader sit on the edge of their seat. Chloe sets up the story in a way to intrigues the reader and makes them keep reading.
-Comical Chloe made jokes in the story. She made the story have funny twists. Chloe made it so that the reader was laughing while wondering why she only had a yoyo next to her.
-Realistic. Chole used realisticness even though her story wasn't real she made the character act like a real person going downstairs to get a banana in the middle of the night. Chole made the story seem real even though it was fake and she made it up.

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The girl was quite fond of her birds. She loved them and she believed they loved her. But when she opened the door of the cage, the birds screeched and flapped their wings. The girl believed she could fix this. The girl’s name was Sophie. Sophie wanted the birds to stop flapping. Why would they anyway? They love me. But the birds did not love Sophie. Despite the fact that she fed them and covered her wall in stickers of them. She was a careful girl when it came to things like this. She had lined up the birds in rows, not leaving any spots in the rows. It always was the same. 17 birds per row on each wall. Sophie knew she could stop the bird wings flapping, she also knew it wasn’t a good way to do so. But she let her impulsive thoughts control her and reached for one soft, white, bird. It screamed and pecked but she tightened her grip. Sophie tried to stop but she couldn’t, she wanted to know what would happen. And she found out. As she pulled and twisted the bird’s wing, she heard a long, wet, popping noise. And her bird was quiet. It was so very quiet. And so was Sophie. Tears formed in her eyes. She made no noise and her vision was blurry. She looked up hoping the tears would dry on their own. Then she looked down at the bird in regret. Her tears dripped down her face and on the dead bird. And slowly, the bird began to disappear. All of the birds did. And the ones on her wall slowly peeled off and flew out the open window. And it was cold. Sophie closed her eyes. When she opened them she saw her walls bare. And she smiled.

this is fanciful because supernatural things happen. For example, a dead bird comes back to life.

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I plop down onto my bed, exhausted from my first official day of being queen. About a week ago, me and my friend Sprout went out on a search for King Zao, to stop him from taking power over all of the kingdoms. Little did I know, that I was to be wed AND appointed queen on the same day.

I lay down my head angled to the side, watching the little bird in the wallpaper, falling off. Slowly, I drift into a much-needed sleep.

—

“Nui! Wake up, Quick!! IT’S AN EMERGENCY”

“Noooooo it’s so early,” I mumble, pushing my head under the pillow.

“Nui! C’mon, come downstairs,” Sprout says. Breathing out a deep sigh, I take my head out from under the pillows and see a fairy standing right in front of me.

“Switch back to your dragon self, I don’t like you as a fairy,” Dragons have the ability to transform into the creature their soulmate is after they’ve met them. Because Sprout is my soulmate,

“Fine, but then will you come down?” Sprout wined, transforming back into a tiny green dragon.

I get out of bed and pull a sweater over my head.

“Close your eyes,” Sprout says, holding a blindfold. Not caring enough to ask, I close my hand and let him blindfold me with the cloth.

I let him guide me downstairs, and hear a bunch of ruffling sounds.

“You can take the blindfold off now!” Sprout says.

I do as he says, expecting to see some big surprise, but end up seeing everything perfectly normal. About to turn back around, I hear everyone yell.

“SURPRISE!!!” I turn around and see the room totally transformed, with banners, and sweets everywhere.

“What’s all this for….” I say as my eyes trail to the banner held above the cake. Happy Birthday Nuikana! It’s my birthday.

I would say that my writing style is both realistic and creative. My writing is both realistic and creative because the situation in the story is something that happens very often, but the characters in it are based on imagination.

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There was a couple a man, James, and a woman Karen. They were married for  5 years and were each other's only love until Karen became ill. James was scared and concerned for his wife and did everything he could to save Karen and their son. She was in and out of hospitals until she suddenly passed away. James was left alone to grieve with his only son, John.

John desperately missed his mother and started to develop a passion for his mother's favorite thing, birds. He started to study birds and he became obsessed with them. One day he decided to pick up white paint. He painted a bird-themed mural on the back wall. When his dad saw his bird wall he was instantly reminded of his mother and started to hopelessly grieve again and began to destroy their house.

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On a dark, stormy night, I wake up to the sound of rats. Rats in my carpet, rats in my basement, rats in my roof, rats everywhere; please help me with these rats. All the rats are saying the same thing. It feels like a nightmare that is in real life. All the rats are repeating, “Crazy? I was crazy once; they locked me in a room, a rubber room, a rubber room with rats, rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once…” “They’re driving me crazy! Where is my repellent gun? Where are you when I need you? You’re lost! The thought is fading. Too many rats! HELP!”

A person watching from outside saw the man screaming but heard nothing. “You’re shouting, but I can’t hear anything!” The old man runs out with a chair and tries to hit one of them, but there are too many of them saying, “Crazy? I was crazy once; they locked me in a room, a rubber room, a rubber room with rats, rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once…” The older man runs outside, rats following. He gets in his car, finds the nearest ocean, and drives towards it. He gets on the nearest boat and says to the owner, “DRIVE!” Once they’re far away, finally, there is eternal silence in the sea.

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Conventions- The Punctuation in Robert's story was good. One that stands out to me is his dialogue. He makes the fear come to life.
Ideas- Robert's Idea for using rats was really funny
Choice- His word choice makes it more funny

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My writing style is fanciful and realistic. My writing has realistic parts like oceans and parts of a house. My writing style is also fanciful because there are supernatural things that occur such as rats talking and thousands of rats being at the same place for no reason.

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I woke up and stumbled down the stairs to the dining room. Another school day and the last thing I wanted to do was get ready for school. It was my birthday but no one had said anything about it. I figured everyone forgot about it. I flipped on the lights and I was surprised to see balloons and decorations all over. There were even presents on the table. I tried to hide my smile because I was still too tired to show emotions. I went upstairs and put on my new outfit and got ready for school. My parents made me a special breakfast. I hear my mom call to me, “Breakfast is ready!” I ran down the stairs and quickly ate while putting on my socks and sneakers. I wished my birthday was on a weekend so I could just relax! The alarm went off and it was time for me to go to school. I grabbed my bag and ran out the door. I saw the bus pulling up to my stop.

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My writing style was realistic fiction. It isn't a true story, but it has real-life characters. It is based on real-life events, but it is also a partially made-up story.

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Conventions- In Ellie's story she emphasizes when something big happened and had a good way to show how things were expressed.
Idea- In the story, Ellie followed the main characters thoughts and you could see what the story was based off of.
Organization- In Ellie's story, she organized it well by introducing what the main characters dad thought about rats, and organized in a way that would be easy to understand and follow as if you are watching it happen.

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A boy named Austin runs away from his house to go to the park and meets a girl named Grace. This writing style is realistic.

A gentle breeze blew over the park, messing up my hair a little. The sudden wind made me shiver in the thin sweatshirt I slipped on before I walked to the park. Or maybe ran to the park. I couldn’t stand another minute with James and his loud chip-eating as he covered him and the couch with potato chip crumbs. I don’t understand why my mom loved him or even liked him.

As I walked I kicked the rain-soaked grass into the air watching the droplets of water fly a few inches up and then dive back down into the grass again. Suddenly I felt cold splatters of watter dripping off of my short hair. I jumped back in shock feeling more water hit my head, and looked up. Tiny splatters of water ran off long the long green vines of a towering tree. The vines hung low to the ground, but they were short enough that the lengthy leave strands dangled just above my head.

The vines started to shake and the icy raindrops pattered back down on my forehead. I spotted a girl dangling from a branch. She clinged onto a thin branch by her hands and swung her legs back and forth, making the leaves leaves rattle and water trickle off the leaves faster and faster. She looked at me as I looked at her, and just for a moment we both stared at each other in shock. Her face suddenly twisted into something that looked more like panic.

“MOVE!” The girl shouted. I looked back at her for a half a second before something hard hit my head. I tripped back and landed on my back. Someone’s feminine-sounding laughter commenced from a few feet in front of me, and I figured it was that girl.

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I propped myself up on my elbows so I wasn’t staring at the cloud–packed sky. I saw the girl walking towards me, no longer hanging from the branch. As she approached me, she stopped about a foot in front of me and bent down to pick something up. I looked over at her curiously, and she grinned as she starred back. She took another step closer to me and held out a hand. I took it and pulled myself up, now feeling how much water had seeped through and weighed down my clothing.

“Sorry…” she mumbled, still giggling. She looked about my age. Maybe 16 or 17. I shrugged, slightly annoyed at her. I looked down at an object wedged between her waist and her arm. It looked like some sort of book–a heavy book infact.

“Did that… fall from the tree?” I asked her as I glanced back up at the wet tree branches. I looked back at her. She looked away and then smirked, guilt spreading across her face.

“How’d it get up there?” I demanded.

“That’s… not the point.” She mumbled as she faced me again. She hesitated spread scross her face and then held out her hand.

“Grace,” She half smiled. I reached my hand out to grasp hers.

“Austin.” I released my hand and she did the same, as our arms both fell back to our sides. I watched awkwardly as she started to walk back to the wet tree. When she reached the trunk, she jumped up and her hand latched onto a low branch, and she swung herself over it. She did the same for two other branches until she was directly above me. I watched her, puzzled, until she started to shake the branches again. Water tumbled back down onto me, as a giggle slipped through her lips. I stared up at her shocked, and a grin spread across her face.

I smirked as I raced towards the trunk of the tree. I tried to remember how she got up, swinging her left leg over the branch. When I finally got up, she looked down at me, startled and then climbed to different parts of the tree. She clearly knew how to navigate the branches better then I did so it wasn’t exactly a fair “game”. As I chased after her, she would shake a branch on me if she had the opportunity to, leaving me soaked when I finally caught up to her.

When I reached her, we both giggled breathlessly. I stood on the slippery branch, holding onto another one right above me for balance. I leaned forward to shake it, soaking us both in rainwater.

We both sat, straddling the branch with our hands infront of us for balance. We glanced at each other as we caught our breaths.

“I think I won,” Grace said, panting in breaths of air.

“Nuh uh. That was all me.” I giggled as she rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Really? Then why are you drenched?” She laughed as she flung water off of her fingers and onto my already-soaked-enough clothes.

“That’s not the point.” I smirked, repeating what she had said earlier. She smiled and then looked down at the ground. She then slowly climbed down to a branch diagonally below her. She bent her neck back to look up at me.

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“You coming?” She asked before she lowered herself to another branch. I nodded and cautiously attempted to get down the same way as Grace did.

I hadn’t noticed, but as I reached the bottom, Grace was already gone. I looked around to see if she was anywhere in sight but I had no luck with that, so I decided to walk home in my drenched clothes.

The following day I trudged back to the park, stomping my way angrily to the tree from yesterday. I shoved the long dangling leaves out of my way, and sat down, slumping against the tree trunk. I ripped up a piece of grass from the ground and fiddled with it between my thumb and forefinger.

“Someone angry?” A smug voice chimed from above me. I shrug, mostly ignoring her. I watched from the croner of my eye as she gracefully leaped from the branch, with more ease than yesterday. I reluctantly looked up as she stood over me, crossing her arms with a smirk.

“So I see you’ve decided to come back.” She continues with the teasing after I decide not to respond. “Are you waiting for another book to drop on your head? Because I can easily-”

“Save it, Grace,” I interrupt, trying not to grin. I watch silently as she gracefully lifted herself up onto a branch. She looked back at me.

“You gonna come up? It’s easier when it’s not slippery,” she says, elevating herself onto a higher branch. I sigh, still trying not to smile–which wasn’t going so well–and stand up. I walk up to the branch and climb it almost like a deformed ladder.

As I reach her branch, I spot her leaning against the trunk with a book on her lap. She grins up at me from her page.

“Took you long enough, slow poke.” I roll my eyes and laugh silently. “Sooo…” she starts, “Why are you being all angry?” I shrug, still observing the branch’s surroundings. I hear her scoff. “Oh come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone!” She pleads. I sigh.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re really annoying, Grace?” She smirks.

“That depends, if I say yes will you tell me?” I scoff and cross my arms, hoping it doesn’t make me lose my balance.

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“Fine.”

“Ok, the yes,” she cooed, causing me to roll my eyes again. I took a deep breath in and then said, “It’s my sister’s stupid boyfriend, James. He’s at my house all the time, stealing all of our food and making messes for anyone else to clean up.” I sigh and then go on. “This morning I overheard his conversation with my sister asking her if he can have my room and then make me sleep on the couch, since apparently crashing at my house every night isn’t good enough for him. He’s so obnoxious–I don’t even know why my sister likes him. I think it’s cruel that my parents even allow him around her!” I scoff, forgetting that Grace was still there.

“Oh… I’m sorry…” She mumbled. I shrug, pretending like I dind’t care. As I think about it, I start to envy Grace.

“What does is matter to you? I bet you have a perfect little family and you don’t even have to worry about any crap like that. So don’t act all innocent pretending like you care, because I know you wouldn’t understand.” I mutter, not bothering to look at her. The park fell silent for a moment. Like everything was frozen in time.

“Well… It’s not exactly like that….” She whispered.

“Oh really? Then what’s it like?” I mumbled sarcastically, still not bothering to look at her. I heard her sigh like all of her enthusiasm just left her body.

“My mom died when I was 5 and my older brother ran away from me and my dad when he was 16 a few years ago. My dad’s been struggling financially since no one wants to hire him. I don’t fully blame them though. My dad’s crazy. He spends all of the leftover money on liquor and alcohol. He comes home to our little apartment drunk every night. Sometimes he’s really dangerous too so I have to sleep in the park.”

She spoke barely in whispers, her voice faint and broken. I looked up at her tear filled eyes. She looked back at me with her head hanging slightly lower than usual. I wished I could’ve said something reassuring like “You’re going to be ok” or something stupid like that but that feels like the biggest lie I could say. So we both sat in silence.

After a minute or two she nods and looks away.

“Oh.” I finally managed to spit out.

“Yeah.”

“I’m… er- sorry…” She shrugged and smiled weakly, but I knew it wasn’t her real smile.

From then on our conversations in the tree were different. Sometimes we’d tell each other about what was going on at home, and other times we’d just sit and joke around. I felt happier around her. We’d talk almost every day until we considered each other maybe best friends…?

On Tuesday I walked over to the tree like usual. It was an unusually perfect day. The sun was shining, it was 80 degrees, there wasn’t one single cloud in the sky, and best of all, James was sick so he had to stay at his house for once.

I approached the tree and I flew up it ot the branch that we’d usually talk on. I was getting faster at climbing up. I even beat Grace’s record! As I climbed up to our branch I realized it was unusually quiet. Grace was missing. I looked around the other branches frantically to see if she was pranking me or not. When I saw she wasn’t on the tree I carefully climbed down, hoping my grip was good enough with my now-sweaty hands.

I walked around the park as I called out her name–or more like yelled her name. I heard a sniffle coming from a shrub behind me. It was muffled but I turned around immediately to inspect it.

She was sitting behind it, her eyes red and bloodshot. There were tear streaks running down her cheeks and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“Grace!” I ran to the shrub and sat across from her. I’d seen her cry before but I’ve never seen her like this.

“Grace? What happened?” I ask quietly, as she look at me with her destroyed face.

“Austin I have cancer!” She spits out, her voice cracking several times. My face turns pale and I feel like someone just ripped my heart out of my chest. Before I could say anything she continues.

“I-I was feeling really tired-and I couldn’t breathe so I went to a doctor-and-and-” She broke down mid sentence and started sobbing. My face was still white as a ghost and It felst like someone took my soul along with my heart, and crushed both right in front of my eyes. My face started to change from white to red and hot tears burned in the back of my eyes.

“This is a joke Grace. This is a stupid prank-PLEASE SAY THIS IS A PRANK!” I started screaming, not in control of my actions anymore. Tears flooded out of my eyes and I knew I looked like just as a mess as her.She looked up at me like someone had just broken her into millions of tiny pieces.

“Without the treatment I could never afford even in my dreams…” She starts, her voice dead and lifeless, “Austin… I only have a month left.” I stared at her in shock for a moment. She had just took my whole entire world and crushed it. I suddenly though my arms around her and started sobbing into her shoulder. She did the same. We both sat there, not speaking for a long time. I don’t know how long, but it felt like forever–yet not enough time at all.

I didn’t sleep for nights. I just stayed up crying into my pillow for hours until the sun rose again for another pointless day. What would the world be like without Grace in it? It all seemed stupid, unreal. I’d spend every last minute with Grace as I could. She looked horrible.

The last day we hung out was a Friday. She looked paler than a ghost. I had to help her walk around. I knew what was coming and I wasn’t prepared for it. It was already like she was gone though. She already looked lifeless enough.

“Austin…” She wheezed. I looked over at her painfully. “Tomorrow I’m gonna be in the ER so come visit me–please.” She pleaded as she took in another gulp of air.

The hospital was blank and white. Beeping coming from every direction, coughing and wheezing from every room. I located Grace’s room after begging the lady at the desk to let me see her. She layed down in a plain white bed, surrounded by machines and monitors. An oxygen tube was the only machine I could recognize on her. The rest were foreign machines. She stared at me, almost lifelessly but still managed to make the weakest smile in the world. I talked to her and cried to her for hours, trying to forget that it might be the last time I ever would. A nurse eventually asked me to leave and I felt a pain that I’d never felt before. I felt broken.

I stood up from my chair as the nurse waited patiently by the door for me to say goodbye.

“Au…stin?” Grace’s voice barely whispered. I looked at her, my eyes tired and worn out, and red, and swollen.

“I…love you.” She wheezed, barely getting the words out of her mouth.

“I love you too Grace.” I looked at her for one last moment until I saw her close her eyes. I knew it was over. A loud monotone beep filled in the silence Grace left without her, and I felt one last hot roll down my cheek. If I was broken before, now I was shattered.

I ran out of the lifeless room as fast as I could. I needed to get away. I ran through random halls, not knowing where I was going. I had no idea if that nurse had followed me or not–I didn’t care. I picked up a chair that sat by a brown table with a lamp resting on top of it. I whipped the chair above my head and smashed it down on the floor. The lamp shook as the table collapsed from underneath it sending them both crashing to the ground.

At one point the nurse found me. At on point, my parents were called. At one point I was driven back home. At one point I locked myself in my room for days. At one point the world died.

15 years later...

“Gracie, come here!” My voice coaxed as I held out my arms. She wobbled over to me with less difficulty than last time. “Good job Grace!” I pick her up gently in my arms, watching her adorable smile light up her entire face. I smile back at her contempt as I walk forward. I stop about ten feet in front of a tall tree.

“Grace, this is a Willow tree. Me and my best friend in the world would hang out here every day.” I pause and look at her gorgeous little face. “It was hers and it will always belong to her. It’s the most special place in the world.” I watch my daughter as she babbles and coos random baby words.

“I love you, Grace.”

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Kevin looks like Vinny. “Yeah you won 2 world titles but you're aging, maybe it's time to hang it up.” Vinny looked at Kevin with a disgusted look. “Boxing is my life.” He said. Vinny had won back to back world championships in 88 and 89 but in the 90 and 91 season he performed poorly. Nobody would box him anymore after a draw with a mediocre competitor. If Vinny thought this was adversity he was not ready for what he would endure next. As the two men kept talking Kevin his manager was looking at Vinny while scolding him about his last fight and them WHAMM! Everything flashed Kevin flew out the open red vehicle but suffered minor injuries. The same could not have been said about Vinny. His eyes flashing tears welled in his eyes thinking it was the end. “All I did.” He muttered. 1 day later he woke up in the hospital. Dr Carter walked in. He had been a well respected and smart doctor, he won awards and was a good guy. He walks in with a saddened look on his face. “Son, you broke your C5 vertebrae”. “You wont box again, even walking will be nothing short of a miracle.” He said  Vinny was in shock but he was a fighter he knew that he would fight again. “No doctor Carter you're wrong. You just don't know what kind of man I am.” After a week more spent in the hospital thinking about his life he knew he had to make it back. He went home with a caretaker and felt nothing but embarrassed. The man he used to be was taken away. “What happened to me?” He screamed. I had millions of dollars, now I need to be Fed.” The doctor said he would have limited arm and leg movement and to not do physical therapy as it might kill him. Defying the doctors orders he did it. His boxing coach Kevin confronted him the next day. “You are planning to try and make a comeback.” Kevin yelled. “You have a life Vinny come on.” Kevin said. What is life upstairs?” Vinny exclaimed.” “That's no life.” Kevin reluctantly agrees to let him have another chance. The physical therapy ended up working and Vinny was training to get back into the ring. After many months of training he was ready to fight somebody. Although everybody was scared to fight him because they did not want to send him back to the hospital. In his dreams he imagined a man holding a chair hitting him. He sank deeper. What if he couldn't get a fight and had to give up. Kevin calls him “Hey kid guess what. We got you a fight.” Vinny's eyes lit up and he was so excited to get back into the ring. In an upset victory Vinny won and he was back. He went on to win 3 more world titles, (This is based on the true story of Vinny Pazienza.)

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Love isn’t pretty.

Actually, it’s pretty ugly at times.

I gazed at the white swallows adorning the wall by the window where we used to watch the sunset. Remember all our grins and jokes and secrets exchanged by that windowsill? What about the curtains that I sewed from your old, moldy white shirt?

Tell me, why did you have to hit-and-run me, breaking my heart just for fun? I gave you all of me, but you just took my love for nothing and left me numb. I curse you, you and that egoistic Aurora! Why did you have to let me down, color me blue?

With you it was like a reverie that never ended.

But did it end?

Yes, completely. You gave me so much hope and light to sprout a rainbow and climb upon it. With each joke, each quote you had given me, my life became so much brighter and cheerful…but now?

There’s too much darkness for a rainbow, I feel so used.

I just wanted to be the one, but you decided to hit-and-run me for that self-absorbed Aurora. Is she really so much better than me?

I was always there for you, supportive of your every decision, sharing your ups and downs. We were so happy together, a charming and beautiful love story.

Now, I’m all alone, weeping my eyes out. Those memories…are all gone, there’s no looking back, because you’re dead and gone, and all my love is gone too.

Then I hear my mother’s voice ringing in my mind’s ear.

“My dear,” she said, “there are times in life where things are simply lost. Do not even bother to pursue the endeavor. Move on. You still have a life in front of you. Chase that instead.”

Was romance really a dead endeavor for me?

The sun was rising now, its rays illuminating the sky with color, streaking through the window and into the tiny corner that held so many memories yet was where my romance ended.

After the relationship, romance, and emotion, there’s breakup, tears, regret, and longing. But I must handle being alone. “To thine own self be true,” Polonius had advised to his son Laertes, heading off to college in William Shakespeare’s famous tragedy, Hamlet, which I most certainly cannot do. Separated from the love of my life, what other path is there for me?

I’m not Benedict Arnold, I couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to not accept my fate of amputation. I would be Benjamin Lincoln, stoically accepting his fate. But that’s so painful. So, so painful.

The world seems dark and meaningless.

I smiled as I saw his beautiful, smirking face in the sky, whispering his forbidden name that seemed so far away repeated.

This is my swan song.

I’ve seen things big and small, I’ve found love and followed it everywhere but then I got lost amidst the maze of it.

I envision death so much it feels more like a memory, where will it get me, in my sleep or seven feet ahead of me? Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and I keep living anyway.

But I see the smiling face of the ferryman Charon. I must now descend into the Inferno, through purgatory, and to paradise.

Adieu, cruel world.

Life wasn’t pretty.

But it was certainly a pretty ride.

I think my writing style is realistic because such circumstances could happen in real life.

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I wake up in the middle of the night with an odd urge to go to my window and feel the cool night breeze. I slowly make my way over and it takes some effort to open the window. The cool night air is refreshing and wakes me up a bit. I look down at my empty street. The street lights are flickering dimly. Suddenly, I’m extremely tired again so I crawl back into my bed and close my eyes, forgetting my still open window. In the morning, when I get up, my room is full of bright light coming in through the window. It is oddly cold, even for winter and it takes a great deal of effort for me to sit up and look around. When I do, I am shocked by the sight that is waiting for me. My room is full of snow! How did this happen? I am very confused until I look over at my window and the events of the night before come flooding back to me.

I think I have a realistic writing style. It is realistic because all of the events in my story are possible. They could happen in real life.

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There once was a boy named Edot Babyy and he was waking to the deli with Ice Spice and then he saw Kai Cenat and they started to hang out and then they went to get food and seen the Opps on the block and then Edot shot his opp and then from behind them somebody came from behind and shot Edot. There were three suspects Number one is Sha Gz. DD Osama. 50 Cent

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When reading Garrett's post I saw great vocabulary and punctuation. I thought the plot of the story was very well thought out and the ideas were interesting. Every sentence has you thinking about the book and what's gonna happen next. It is well-paced and nice to read.

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I walked though my after school sweat dripping down my face after a heat wave my bag feels like a rock I dont have the strength to carry it to my room I leave it their and I slump to my coach to watch TV I painfully reach my hand for the remote only to find out the batteries are dead, being to tried to get new batteries I fall asleep on my coach forgetting to close the door. Unbeknownst to me while my door was open a man had walked in.

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My writing style is realistic. My story is based on a true story

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I come home from school and just want to get into my bed. Instead I moped over to my dining room table and slowly took out my homework. I get so distracted thinking about everything in school my head just spins in a thousand directions. Finally I am able to start my homework. All I can think about is getting a snack to eat. My brain is telling me to just keep going. I excitedly finished my homework and ran to the kitchen. I got my snack and hopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. In an instant dinner was ready. I could hear the pots clashing, the food going onto the plates, and the cold water pouring. Ultimately I got into the shower and hopped into bed. I officially get to go to sleep and relax.

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My writing style I chose is realistic. This is realistic because this is based on what I do almost everyday.

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Simon Kochman did excellent with his organization. He clearly explained the moments in his story. He did it so well that me, as the reader, could imagine the moment in my head. I could feel how heavy his bag was and how sweaty he was. I could also feel his frustration when he had to do his homework.

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Voice-In the whole text you can always create a good visual image of what is happening in the text and tell that it is coming straight from his mind. Organization-He organizes his work in a way that it helps not only makes you feel the text but it helps you understand what's going on better. Sentence fluency- His words and sentences go together so well that you feel like you are actually in the story with all of the same emotions that the main character in the text feels. His tone is depressing.

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A girl walks down the street in the rain with a black umbrella. It’s 5:38 p.m. and she just finished work. It’s mid-fall and already dark, but she doesn’t mind it. She walks to her house and knocks on the door. Her mother opens the door and the girl walks in, and she walks up the stairs and into her room. She gets a black towel and dries her hair. She looks around the room as she gets cat food for Nyx, her cat. The walls are painted black, along with her bed, the drawers, closet, and everything else, except for the white light. The setting of the room is dark, gloomy, and despairing, just how she wanted it to be. Nyx runs towards the food and starts eating. She changes into her pajamas and before she leaves the room to go eat dinner, she takes a look at a black leather book with gold frames. In gold, capital, cursive letters it spells: THIS BOOK BELONGS TO JESSICA MOREAU!DO NOT TOUCH OR READ!!! “I’ll be back, Nyx,” she says. She goes downstairs to eat her dinner, but is not asked to describe how her day was other than, “bad” or “it could have been better, but it wasn't”. After dinner, she goes upstairs to her room. Just before she goes to sleep, she takes a look at the moon. It’s a full moon, Friday the 13th, and she smirks. What will go wrong next, she thinks. Nyx meows and Jessica picks her up and hugs her. “Good night Nyx," she says, and puts the cat down and watches her return to her own bed. As Jessica turns off the lights, she hears something and feels like someone is watching her. She gets her tennis racket and turns around, ready to attack. Nothing. Probably a hallucination, she thinks. She gets back in her bed and falls asleep, unaware of the two lights watching her.

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Katherine's tone is realistic.

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Katherine's organization is splendid - the chronology of her sentence is so meticulous that one can exactly picture everything vividly.

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Katherine's author's voice is opulent in this excerpt - a beautiful and descriptive narration.

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Katherine's use of conventions is spectacular, clearly conveying the ominous tone with periods, indicating that something is awry.

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As I walk through the door, ready for dinner, I smell the aroma of fresh pasta. I turn to the right, to see a mouse under the blanket that my dad threw on the floor earlier, out of anger. He must have still been angry because when I told him about the mouse I saw, he jumped up and grabbed a chair. He probably thought this was his excuse to let his anger out, because he went right into it. He started smashing the mouse under the blanket, and missed every time. At that point he wasn't even doing it to kill the mouse. He was just furious about something he wouldn’t tell us, as in my mom and I. There was barely any pieces of the chair left. Later that night, it was boiling hot in my room, so I opened the window for some fresh air. The cool breeze blew right through, pushing my hair back a little. I tucked myself right under the blanket, upset about what I saw earlier. I couldn’t help thinking what could’ve happened to my dad that aggravated him so much. I could barely sleep that night, in fear. I was so upset that my dad wouldn't explain to me what happened, but I understood that it might have been best if I didn’t. I never even gotta eat the pasta my mother made. It was too late now, but I still felt bad. It was probably still sitting on the marble counter top. What if I was being dramatic about everything that happened earlier with my dad?

I think I am a descriptive writer because I write in details and describe my thoughts through the writing.

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Word choice- Maia uses a great word choice to help entertain the reader and to connect everything.

Organization- Maia organizes her stories in a way that everything connects and makes sense, while also making it feel like you are living it.

Sentence fluency- Maia's sentences are very representative for the elements of realistic fiction.

Overall, I think Maia's tone is realistic.

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Simon Kochman does an amazing job with his ideas because they are connected to real life situations. They represent actual moments and things that actually happened.

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Simon Kochman does an excellent job with his word choice as his story is very descriptive and real. When I read the story i felt like I was a part of it.

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	There he is the last pitch and Bob is up. if he hits a homerun he wins it for his Middle school team the lucky charmers. He steps up, the pitcher throws the ball, BOOM HOMERUN!!! Bob runs like a cheetah and he does it for his team, his team surround him and pick him he is a HERO! They decided to get ice cream to celebrate. Him and his teammates can not be happier. As they finish up eating the parents come to pick Bob up. He says goodbye to his teammates and Bob drives away. He tells his parents everything and they are proud of him. When they get home Bob is exhausted and doesn't even take a shower. He decides to go asleep with his baseball bat on his window and smiles as he goes into his dreams.

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There he is the last pitch and Bob is up. if he hits a homerun he wins it for his Middle school team the lucky charmers. He steps up, the pitcher throws the ball, BOOM HOMERUN!!! Bob runs like a cheetah and he does it for his team, his team surround him and pick him he is a HERO! They decided to get ice cream to celebrate. Him and his teammates can not be happier. As they finish up eating the parents come to pick Bob up. He says goodbye to his teammates and Bob drives away. He tells his parents everything and they are proud of him. When they get home Bob is exhausted and doesn't even take a shower. He decides to go asleep with his baseball bat on his window and smiles as he goes into his dreams.

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I recognized your use of the onomatopoeias convention. You use in in great ways multiple times. This story is Fanciful because it all takes place in a dream.

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word choice :  I loved Sebastian word choice because  I love the way some were in all capital letters

ideas : I appraised Sebastian had a very good connection to the story.

sentence fluency I liked that Sebastian had no spelling or grammar wrong

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My writing style is realstic. I chose realistic since it was the only one I knew about. Tnos story is realistic since you could play baseball and celbrate and go to sleep. I also did realistic since I am real.

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My story is about a magic pencil. My writing style is fanciful because supernatural events happen in the story like a pencil that is magic. This writing style to me seems easier to do than any other style because I don't have a big imagination for realistic writing.

Michael woke up in the morning and got up to get ready for school. While he was putting his shoes on, he almost missed the bus but luckily, he made it and was waiting to get to school. During his first period class, ELA, his teacher gave him a pencil since he didn’t have one but something was off. His pencil had this glow to it and he wanted to tell his friend John about it. They assessed the situation together at recess and thought about drawing with it. They drew a frog, and a real one jumped right out of the paper as if it was magic. They realized that they can make whatever they want but instead of using it for evil, they used it to help people. They made a horse for people to ride on. They made a dog for someone to keep as a pet. They even made a real life person that can be someone’s friend. They were making everyone happy. Except…They knew that it was a little too strong and powerful for them. They went to destroy it at a recycling facility watching it as it broke down into little pieces and the two boys were thinking about calling it a day.

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I think that Noah's story is a cool idea, and the style was definitely fanciful, or fantasy. There was definitely some sentence fluency, and the story just flowed. This story was short, straight to the point, and I enjoyed reading it. I think that there were suspenseful elements to this, as well as encorperating fantasy elements.

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I think my writing style is realistic fiction. I think my writing style is realistic fiction because things like this can go viral on Facebook and people always ask where that place is because they are interested in going. I think this story also has some fiction in it because you can't really expect everyone on your social media page to be able to go out of their day and drive all the way to the tree and bring a pen to write something positive on a leaf.

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My story is realistic because there are no magical elements in it also it could happen
 in some circumstances.

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RINGGGGGG! “Yes, finally, our nightmare is over.” I say to Monika

“I know! This is probably the best day of my life.” she replies.

“Hey guys, SCHOOL IS OVER!” Brook says. I am so excited that school over 6th grade was worse than 5th. In 5th grade I was the new kid and got bullied and yet 6th grade where I had a bunch of friends still seemed to be the worst thing in the world. I am ready for summer. “Carol, come over we're gonna have a celebration in the basement in honor of 6th grade being over.” Monika says.

“Ok!!” I responded. We grabbed our backpacks and said goodbye to our teacher Mrs. Stagin and sprinted out the door for freedom. I sent my mom a text telling her that I was going to Monika’s. Like always she responds with a thumbs up emoji. I ran to catch up with Monika, Brook, Megan and Stephaine. My best friend is Monika. She was the first one to come up to me and introduce me to all the girls who are now also my best friends. Brook, well she didn’t like me at first she spread a rumor to people that I moved all the way from Spain. First of all I moved from California and second what’s wrong with Spain. She then apologized and I forgave her. Once we arrived at Monika’s we immediately dropped our bags and ran down stairs sounding like a herd of horses. Monika’s basement is like a whole other room. I love it though. When we have sleepovers we love to tell scary stories about this “haunted basement.” We quickly closed the lights, shut the blinds but kept one window open because it was hot, slammed all the doors, shut and held hands so that we won’t scare one another. Then we each told 2 ghost stories. Meghan was in the middle of her story when we heard a noise. We all screamed and felt my heart drop down all the way to my stomach. There was this creature unknown and we couldn’t see due to it being dark. Monkia jumped up and turned on the lamp. There was a raccoon with his mouth wide open and claws digging into their carpet. We all screamed startlingly at the little fella we jumped up onto their pool table. Monika screamed “DAD,DAD HELP US HELP US!!!!”

Stephanie screamed even louder “DANI DANI WERE GONNA GET EATEN ALIVE.” By this time Meghan and Brook were crying and I stayed quiet not knowing what to do. In a few moments Mr Jones ran down the stairs saying “Girls, girls what’s the matter?” He looked down and saw the raccoon was now under their carpet. He grabbed the closest thing to him which was a broom and tried to hit the raccoon. He crushed a lamp, broke a vase, hit everything but the raccoon. Finally he relaxed and waited for the raccoon to come to him. After 5 minutes of waiting the raccoon came out and he smashed it with all his might. Everyone cheered and then Mokina said “Wow guys what a start to a cruel summer!” Everyone laughed and gave Mr Jones a high five.

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“WHAT WHY?”  said Jordan,

“I’m sorry honey we just can't, it's too dangerous” said his mom. Jordan and his family have been going to the same beach house since he was born, he is now fifteen and summer is just around the corner. His mom just told him that they aren’t going to Tybee Island GA this summer.  Jordan was so upset he didn’t even know  what to say.  Jordan ran to his room. He slammed his door and started to cry. After crying for a good 2 hours he finally tried to go to sleep.  But he couldn't. He was up all night thinking about how he could fix this. After a long long time he came up with an idea. He was going to save up money  from working+ his money in his savings account to buy a house. He was going to work day and night just so he could buy a house in GA. This way they wouldn’t get anyone sick and no one would get them sick since it was their own house. After 10 months of working day and night and adding all of his savings together, he had it, he had enough money to buy the house. He bought a beautiful beach house and flew to GA with his parents the next day. He surprised them with the house and they could not believe what they were hearing. Their very own son had bought a beautiful beach house just for them. “Oh my gosh I LOVE it!” said mom. Jordan felt so good he had put so much time and energy into getting this house for his parents and himself. Him and his parents were grinning ear to ear.

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Voice- The way Lila's short story was told, and all of the sayings that she said really showed up to me.
Idea- This short story inspired me. As I read I wondered where she got the idea to make a story about a tree.
Organization- The way Lila organized her short story with the characters, and the changes were amazing. I really liked how organized she kept her short story.

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Comment for Ayla

Ideas: Your idea was awesome, you had a fantasy story with that hint of the picture we were told to add. The picture fell in perfectly. I love the idea of the dragon, Its cool that it can turn into a fairy because a fairy is its soulmate. I also love the names you picked for the characters, it's very unique.

Organization: When I looked at your piece of writing I noticed how organized it is. You added lots of dialogue, but you managed to keep it nice and clean

Word choice: Your word choice was great. You added words like transform, exhausted, and perfectly.

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I choose realistic. I think this is my writing because how I created this story was based on me. I always go to Tybee Island GA but when covid hit I couldn't. It was so sad. Obviously I didn't buy a house but part of it was based on me

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I think my writing is realistic. It is because some people usually have abusive dads, who could hurt them.

There is a girl named Jessica, she is 9 years old. She is a very smart student in school and out, but at home her dad can be very abusive. Jessica’s parents are also in a divorced which makes her dad not so happy. Jessica goes to school everyday, and suddenly, her guidance counselor stopped her. She said, “Hey, Jessica, I heard that your parents are getting divorced. Has it affected you?”.

“No, Mrs George”.

“Are you sure hunny?”

“Well, my dad has been hurting me… alot”.

“How about we meet tomorrow morning? Sounds good?”.

“Yes.”

The Night of, Jessica was in bed, feeling sort of guilty. She finally went to bed after 1 hour of overthinking. In the morning she went to school and didn’t want to go to the guidance office, and she was also having a good day. Until…the guidance counselor came and said. “Hey Jessica, follow me to my office”.

“Ok!”

“So, Jessica, what has been going on, you can tell me anything just between the two of us”

“Well, its my dad”.

“Ok, so what about your dad, has he been hurting you?”.

“Well, … Yes”.

“He has been punching walls, slapping me, and throwing stuff.”

“Wow, ok Jessica, do you mind if I talk to your parents?”.

“Do what you need to do.”

“Alright, thanks, I will make sure you are safe at home.”

*When she gets home*

Her dad is there, he doesn't look so happy. Jessica ran up to her room as fast as the speed of lighting. After 2 hours passed she came downstairs and saw her dad. He was mad, angry, all sorts of that. Jessica came near him and got a chair but before he can hit her with it she moved and put a lamp in her place.

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Sentence Fluency-Nova has good sentence fluency because she has much detail. An example of this is, “As she pulled and twisted the bird's wing, she heard a long, wet, popping noise.” This quote goes into detail about what happens as she killed the bird.
Organization-Nova organizes the story well because she does it in chronological order. She doesn't jump around switching from past to present.
Word Choice-Nova uses interesting words to describe her story, some like "bare", and "dripped".

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Ideas - Jory did a very good job at showing her ideas in her story. She discribed the charecters very well.

Organization - Jory did a very good job at organizing her text. She organized her dialogue by making a new paragraph for each piece of dialogue.

Voice - In Jory's writing she talked about an abusive dad. In her story I could really feel that the dad was hitting her, and breaking things.

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My writing style is realistic, or realistic fiction, because I was describing someone who works a fairly ordinary job. The man overworks himself, which I based off my dad, who doesn't work that long, but he does work a lot. I tried to think of a fairly boring job, that is also very time consuming, so I chose customer service combined with computers. Now if you worked for 20 hours, you would probably fall asleep or pass out, although an employer would never make you stay there for 20 hours.

Albert was a very tech-savvy man, but he had a very busy job. He worked at the I.T. company, ZBI, and he loved his job, well for a little. Ever since he was a kid, he would experiment with technology. As Albert grew older, and computers came out, he became very good at fixing them, as well as the problems that happen on them. Albert opened up his own shop when he was young, and he assembled/fixed computers with a friend, Max, but they went out of business after a year. Today, we will observe Alberts daily job, and his perspective on it. Albert has woken up after a long day of work, with rings under his eyes, as he begins his daily routine. “I’m sooooo tired,” Albert groaned, as he opened his front door. As he approached his car, a small, but comfy car for one person, he had just realized something. “Where are my keys!” He screamed.

Albert frantically searched his pockets, and his many jackets, until he reached into a pocket that he forgot to check, and found his keys. “Finally! " he exclaimed, "I found my keys.”Albert drove down to his job, and dreadingly entered the building. “Just another day at work, I need a new job,” he sighed. Albert made his way to his office, where began to take calls.

After his usual 10 hour shift, he hadn’t even been half way done with everything he needed to do, so he stayed overnight.

The next day, after he had been working for 20 hours, he started to see things. There was a mural of birds flying on a wall, but it was only a painting. When Albert went to look at it, all the birds had started coming out of the painting and flying past him. One brushed past his face, and along with him being so tired, he had passed out.

Later that morning, fellow workers found him passed out on the floor, and he was     escorted to the hospital. When he woke up, he told them that he had worked for 20 hours straight, and that he had seen those birds. The doctors told him that he had overworked, hadn’t gotten enough sleep, and he was seeing things. As he stood up off his bed he said, “I hope those birds got enough sleep,” and he walked off.

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My story is about a girl named Mai who has to take care of her eccentric grandpa. When she gets home, her grandpa is seen throwing a chair on a lamp. Her grandpa tries to burn down the neighbors house, and Mai helps cover up the crime. When the neighbors get back to their home from their trip, they see their house in ashes. Mai and her grandpa are both arrested.

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Adriana did a good job telling her story with voice and her story was very organized. With the word choice she picked I could understand how the characters felt