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David subscribes to the “stuff your tent into the bag” strategy over nicely folding it. But his wife Patricia was fed up with his incompetent behavior, and was tipped over the edge when he set the last can of baked beans on fire. Whilst he was sleeping she crept up as quiet as a mouse and slashed his throat, thorax, and  wrists. She stepped back to look at the bloody massacre she had created. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks “how will I get rid of the body?” She had then remembered they were camping at a lake, so she could just throw the body in the lake right? Wrong if she did that the body would start bloating and float to the top. She started looking around the campsite for a container large enough to fit a large hippos body. She saw in the corner of her eye, the large cooler they had used for the beans you had burnt! “Perfect!” Patricia thought. She then stuffed his body in the cooler, hauled it to the lake, and threw it in. It sunk to the bottom, never to be seen again. And Patricia was never seen again.

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They threw cabbage that turns your brain into emotional baggage. I couldn’t feel any other feeling. Sadness. That’s all I could feel. My life was cold. There was nothing left in my life. I looked around for signs of hope. I could only see a faint light in the distance. I reach for it. Trying to grasp it. I couldn’t reach it. When I tried to move closer I couldn’t move. I kept pushing. Trying to grip onto the little hope left. Slowly, my hand moved closer. The light was as bright as the sun. I covered my eyes and kept going. The darkness was closing in fast. I can't give up. I had to push through or I would be consumed by darkness. My hand could grab the glowing ball of hope. I grabbed it. It Gave off a comforting and gentle warmth. I did it. I found hope. I open my eyes and see the audience from the stage. The people’s eyes didn’t pelt me with emotional cabbage. I didn’t go back to the dark world of sadness and darkness. I started to give my speech. I continued forward. I Kept going. I didn’t stop. I pushed through.

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I didn’t understand why the bird wanted to ride the bicycle. I was really confused and the bird kept talking and said that he would die to ride a bike. I said ok because the bird looked sad. The bird started to ride the bike and he said I’m so fast like an African cheetah. The bird started talking about how beautiful the day was. There were huge trees everywhere; the wind almost hummed through the tree leaves. The tree's shadow covered most of the ground. the bird said ”. “It's so sunny but also so cloudy it’s so bright but so dark it’s so happy but so sad” but then he said “always look at the better part”. I was even more confused because I didn’t know how the bird could talk. I said, "I'm like a professional on the bike. If you want to see, the bird said "no ".  After this the bird jumped at me and said wake up. I woke up in my house to realize it’s just a dream. I went downstairs and it smelled like a fresh summer day. Outside it looked like a wonderland of plants. I walked outside and saw a bird fly.

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It would have been a better night if the guys next to us weren't in the splash zone. The poor men were made of fire, and screaming awfully loud. Me and my father coughed, smoke filling our lungs. My father sighed, seemingly frustrated. “Those idiots. Why come sit in a splash zone if you don’t want to be covered?” I stared at him, slightly baffled at his words. “Why are you saying that? Why aren’t you helping them?” He scoffed. “Stupidity has consequences.” I looked around us, trying to figure out if anyone was helping. No one was, so I was stuck staring at the poor people with worry. I realize no one had even noticed that they were made of fire in the first place. I stood, and my dad stared at me, incredulous. “What in the world are you doing? Don’t you dare go over and help them, let fate run its course.” I ignore him, and take off my jacket, blocking the water pouring onto them. They coughed, and then their blazing eyes looked at me, and smiled. I sat there holding up the jacket, and let them enjoy something they thought they would only ever experience.

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He would only survive if he kept the fire going and he could hear thunder in the distance. They were hunting him - he didn’t know who, or what they were, Like an unsolved mystery, but he knew they were hunting him. They were afraid of loud noises - like the crashing of thunder. Suddenly, the thunder stopped. He put cloth on a stick and put it into the fire, like a marshmallow, setting it aflame,- then he ran like a cheetah. They were faster than him, but he ran as fast as he could. They were catching up to him,- then he stumbled onto the bank of a river, which was damp, where they caught up to him. He could barely see their faces, until one stepped into the light. It turned out to be his family! His grandmother and grandfather, mom and dad, sister and brothers, uncle and aunt,they were throwing him a surprise birthday party!!! Yay! They brought him cake and 67 presents!!! He opened them one by one. In the 54th present was a motorcycle, which his grandma then hopped on and started driving it away and screaming “WHAT IS A KILOMETER!!!”, then he said, “goodbye grandma.”

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I was starting to worry that my pet turtle could tell what I was thinking. He keeps glancing awkwardly my way. He has tears the size of rain drops in his eyes and a frown on his face. I have been thinking about how

badly he needs a bath. He has dirt on his shell and the smell. Oh, the smell! Whenever I think about his lack of cleanliness, the more Gilbert hibernates under his rock. He just lays there day after day like a cat basking in the sunlight. Gilbert hides in his shell or moves away from me when I try to come near him. He is the elephant in the room. Even my family can tell when my poor Gilbert is sad. So, I decided to give him a bubble bath. Boy did he look and feel fresh. I began thinking about how amazing my turtle looked after the warm, soothing soak. He smelled as fresh as a daisy. As I began to have happy thoughts about Gilbert, he began to smile more. Gilbert came out of his shell. He was more active and loving towards me. I was beginning to get my old, happy Gilbert back.

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The rain pelted hard against the windshield as the darkness engulfed us. They were getting closer. I could hear the branches cracking and the aggressive snarls and snaps getting closer to the car. I pressed harder on the gas pedal.

“Why are they getting faster!?” Anisa yelled. Her voice sounded as panicked as a rat caught in a trap.

“How should I know!?” I snapped back. The air around us became thick and biting, stinging my lungs with cold needles as I drew each shallow breath. Hail began to pound against the car. The shadows crept inwards, everything went silent. The trees rustled in faint whispers… BANG! Crashing against the roof of the car, they tried to claw their way into the car. I started to veere, swerving off the road. Away from our escape. The faint light in the distance grew dimmer. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I gripped the steering wheel and pulled us back on track. The car drove into the light and our vision began to blur. The next morning we both  remembered the same eerily realistic dream. We began to hear them outside often, which was when we realized. The worst was yet to come.

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“She cried diamonds.” That’s what people had always told me when I was younger. I come from a super rich family with 2 daughters, Crystal and Cassie. I have a mountain of money sitting at my feet but I’m still not satisfied with my life. My dads always gone on work trips, and my mom is always off seeing another man. My father knows about him but he doesn’t want the public to know. When my parents are actually home, they spend all their time fussing over my sister, Crystal. It’s always “Crystal this”, and “Crystal that”, but never about Cassie. That’s why I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands. How will my parents spend all the time in the world worrying about Crystal if there is no Crystal? As I slowly picked up the pills, evil danced in my eyes as I smiled a malicious grin. I dropped a few of them into her glass of water and watched them dissolve. She picked up her water and took a few sips as the ice in her glass clinked. I slowly started to smile as I watched her turn pale and drop to the floor with a thud.

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Name: Penelope Johnston

Date: 3/17/25

Period 4 Shores

The Blimp

Everyone was curious about the big white blimp that appeared overnight. It came around midnight. Everyone came out to see what it was. It circled around town like a dog ready for its nap for maybe an hour and then left, making a loud sound like thunder. The day after, the townspeople were talking about it, making up crazy accusations. I didn’t believe them. This town was always saying crazy things about everything. But then the blimp came back. Night after night it returned, staying a little longer each time. It had been coming back for so long that eventually people stopped coming out of their homes, even in the daytime. Then one night, when the blimp came, everyone refused to move, they were logs. I went up to my window to see what it was doing then. A man came out of the blimp on a ladder, but no one saw, they were all hiding. The man picked the lock of a store and went inside. With no one looking, he robbed it. He did the same to all the other shops. I was too scared to stop him, I couldn’t move. No one knows what happened but me.

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The money maker vegetable oil- Josie Morris

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The money maker vegetable oil- Josie Morris

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After coating myself in vegetable oil I found my success rate skyrocketed. One day I was in the bathroom and had to wash my hands. There was no non-slippery soap yet so I washed my hands with an old, small vegetable oil bottle that was very slippery like a slip-n-slide. Later, my mug slipped from my hands like an egg slips from its shell. I was on my balcony, it landed on my neighbors heads. That night I dreamt of a small, and not slippery substance called “non-slippery soap”. I had a dream that I invented it and that I could wash my hands with it, solving my problem of having slippery hands due to vegetable oil. For the next year I experimented on my soap. Finally I made non-slippery soap and made a huge amount of money off of it. I am now a multi-millionaire who sued the vegetable oil company for murder of my neighbor. They were mad and clouded with anger so they put vegetable oil on my shiny and huge stairs. I slipped and broke my neck, but I survived. I went to court to sue them again, I won and got a lot more money.

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You should never take advice from someone who thinks red paint dries

quicker than blue paint because Miyagi said so. Since once upon a time I ignored his word by taking advice from a legitimate rat that could surprisingly speak, and I took advice and committed a crime. My crime was severe, I gave a penny to the nickel store. Turns out the rat I took advice from was actually from the rat station! A furry rat cop. I was scared, more scared than a deer running away from a lion. Ironically, I got ratted out by a rat. When I was in court I saw something shocking. The rat's name was Miyagi! It also seems that I committed a different offense as well. Trusting someone that watched paint dry. I mean who even does that? So I suppose it was on me, but thankfully Miyagi also went to jail for lying to the cops about being a rat. I was waiting in jail for my cell mate, Miyagi. As soon as I saw him enter I went in and beat him up. I was finally at ease. Moral of the story is never trust someone who watches paint dry.

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Behind my window was a reflection that only instilled fear. The wind whistled and the floorboards creaked. My eyes widened, and I hid inside my dark, damp feeling closet. ‘What is that thing?” I thought. I tucked myself behind my hanging clothes. I shut my eyes, and wrapped my arms around my legs, trying to make myself as small as a mouse. Suddenly, I woke up. My room was as dark as a deserted alleyway. My heart was beating fast so fast I thought it would burst, and I was breathing hard. I looked around. I was back in my bed. “It was only a dream…”  I looked out my window. The shadow was only the shadow of tree branches, and the creaking was merely the branches, scratching against the window frame. “What a dream…” I thought. I still felt uneasy… paranoid even. My room sounded as still as a quiet forest… until the creaking started.

The creaking grew louder than a motor. My eyes widened as I realized a creaking was also coming from the other side of my bedroom door. My breath caught in my throat and I shut my eyes. “I’m dreaming.” Then I heard the scream.

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Miguel and the tomatoes-Samantha Esquivel Dávila 

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Miguel and the tomatoes-Samantha Esquivel Dávila 

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Tomatoes make great weapons when water balloons aren’t available. That’s what the seller told Miguel. Miguel was confused, Miguel stared at the seller like an eagle at its prey. The seller noticed this and then said- The tomato section is in aisle 6- the seller said. Miguel headed to aisle 6. To get there, he had to go through the seafood aisle. When Miguel walked through there, he was hit by a very unpleasant smell, like that of a dead cat. When I got to aisle 6, I grabbed a kilo of tomatoes. As I was heading toward the exit, a mother with her children in a stroller was very distracted and inadvertently ran over Miguel's foot. Miguel screamed like a fire engine siren.The woman apologized to Miguel. "It's okay, don't worry," said Miguel. On his way home, Miguel felt a tremendous pain in his foot because it had been bruised. He arrived home. "I'm back, mom. I brought you the tomatoes you asked for," said Miguel. "Thanks, son. Go to sleep because you have school tomorrow," replied his mother. Even though it hurt, Miguel went to sleep so he could go to school the next morning more comfortably.

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Nobody loves a pig wearing lipstick.

At least, that’s what Petunia had always been told. “It’s unnatural,” the others grunted. “No pig should try to be something she’s not.” But Petunia couldn’t help it. The lipstick made her feel like a sunset; bold, warm, unforgettable.

Still, the other animals in the barn whispered. Even the farmer’s daughter, Lily, wrinkled her nose. “Pigs don’t wear makeup, Dad,” she’d said, her voice sharp as a snapped twig.

That afternoon, Petunia sulked beneath an old oak tree, the scent of damp earth clinging to her. She rubbed her nose in the dirt, smearing away the soft wax. They were right.

Then she heard footsteps. Lily knelt beside her. “I didn’t mean to make you sad,” she whispered. From her pocket, she pulled out a tube of bright red lipstick, smooth as butter. Gently, she swiped it across Petunia’s sticky snout.

“There,” Lily said through her toothy smile. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

Petunia blinked. Her heart fluttered like a trapped moth. Maybe nobody loved a pig wearing lipstick... until now.

She strutted back to the barn, head high, red lips gleaming like a ripe apple.

And this time, when the others whispered, she just smiled.

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The bullet pierced the window, shattering it before missing Danny's head by mere millimeters. Immediately, Danny pulled out his 50. Cal and shot the sniper with pinpoint accuracy. Everyone was shocked. “What’s happening!?” Danny’s coworker Bob yelled. Just then, 15 agents covered in armor and weaponry smashed through the window and ran towards Danny with a crash. Agents whipped towards Danny. Instinctively, Danny used his tai-chi to incapacitate the agents and protect Bob. Their speed was lighting . As they were getting chopped, sliced, and scissor kicked, they realized that they were screwed. For they were fighting the infamous Danny Bond. Son of famous agent James Bond. The last conscious agent was as scared as a child alone in the dark. But then, the floor under him gave out and Danny fell through. The pain in his legs was immense. The floor and Danny hit the ground with a loud BOOOM. Agents surrounded him, all with guns pointing right at his head. The secretary of defense walked through the crowd and said “You know you can’t run from us forever, Bond”. Although Danny surrendered and was put in a place where nothing escapes, nothing can stop Danny Bond for long.

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The father handed each child a road map at the beginning of the 2 day “road trip” and explained it was so they could “find their way home”. His children grabbed the maps from their father’s hands rugged like rocks, and looked up at him. In their view was an older man, but still very lankey. He never told his kids his name, age and suffered from severe psychosis, frequently hallucinating, and overlooked the fact these were his children. Then, they look at the environment their father drove them to. It was a forest environment, full of life.

Thereafter, he took the map and replaced it with a little trinket for each of them. They were old and somewhat roughed up. Then as they looked back, their father was gone. He abandoned them, left them by themselves. This is where they lived now. Their home seemed like generations away, like it was lost in an abyss. Though, nothing is always what it seems. Home is not generations away. Home is not in the lost stars of space. They had a house, not a home, but then as the wind sang its sweet melody. They realized it was here all along.

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The Death of Geoph by Zacharias Sakaguchi

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The Death of Geoph by Zacharias Sakaguchi

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“The balloons floated away along with all my hopes and dreams.” Geoph was only 8 months old but he wouldn’t let go, those balloons meant everything to him. As he floated away higher and higher all I could think was the moment his grip slipped and he fell. I quickly called the police and told them what had happened. They told me they were on their way. As the seconds ticked I couldn’t stop thinking about the moment his grip slipped. The police arrived in mere seconds but it felt like hours. Then out of thin air it started raining cats and dogs. The raindrops were as big as baseballs, and they were hot. It burned my skin and the steam rose and blurred my vision. The raindrops as they hit the ground, they made a loud booming noise that rang my ears. I knew Geoph wouldn’t last long with the rain pelting him, it was getting dark and they’re would be no chance of saving him. There was a moment of silence because we all knew there was no chance. The boom knocked me off my feet. I still remember the moment, Geoph was laying lifeless six feet under.

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I met an interesting turtle while a song on the radio blasted away. I was just on my way to work, thinkin’ and singin’. “West Virginiaaa! Mountain momma, take me home country roads!” I sang at the top of my lungs. I was out on the highway, so I decided to gun it. “Wheeeeeeee!!” I shrieked as my old, cherry red Ford Ranger went 90 miles per hour. I tried to slow down, but something tiny and greenish was stuck under the peddle.”Screech!!” Went the tires. I quickly pulled over and wrenched out the object. It was a mini turtle, green as an emerald. “Hello!” the turtle said cheerfully. I jumped about a foot in the air. I screamed, “OH MY GOSH YOU CAN TALK!!!!” The turtle replied, “Why wouldn’t I? Please excuse my manners, my name is Dryden.” “Uhhhh, my name is Nancy?” I replied.” “I’m losing it.” I uttered. “I seemed to have lost my way, would you mind helping me?” Dryden inquired. “Sure?” I said, still thinking that he was a figment of my imagination. So, as a result of saying yes, I drove all the way across the US to bring Dryden the turtle home.

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The discovery of Indiana Jones by Miley Michel

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The discovery of Indiana Jones by Miley Michel

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In hopes of finding out the truth, he entered the one-room library. Little did he know he was being followed. I snuck up to him and flung him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I hear him crying over my shoulder and see his feet give up as if he were hopeless. When I ask him why he’s here, he breaks down crying, and it started smelling like salt.

When I finally got him to stop crying, then he told me that his whole life has been a disappointment to his family. So he snuck in the library and was looking for the secret staircase he had read in multiple books. I was listening to his story when I started to feel bad but then I realized his sadness killed him inside. I hear him whisper “I wish someone would just believe in me”. I felt so bad for him and started being his side kick to help find out mysteries in the ancient historical books.

We found out many secrets and became world wide names. Throughout our lives we’ve broken many rules, and casted in movies and soon that kid became “Indiana Jones” and his sidekick me.

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Lemonade RedBull gives you wingss-Emmie Picken 

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Lemonade RedBull gives you wingss-Emmie Picken 

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The llama couldn’t resist trying the lemonade. As I watch Petunia lean over and take a sip out of the slippery glass pitcher I think, “ Petunia your going to die”. Right as Petunia swallows the lemonade she falls to the muddy ground laying as long as a giraffe. I stand there not knowing what to do, so I run back over to my house and hop on the phone. I dial my mothers phone number and when she picks up I scream “PETUNIA IS DYING!! SHE DRANK MY SOUR LEMONADE SHE’S HAVING A SEIZURE!! My mom says she is coming right away. Then when I go back to check on Petunia the lemonade pitcher is as empty as Josie’s life. But the surprising thing is when I spot Petunia flying with wings! Then I finally realize what I’ve done. Now I’m screaming “Why did I put RedBull in the lemonade?!” Petunia is now like a magical unicorn all because of me! I run over to get Petunia down but she refuses to cooperate. Randomly, Petunia starts talking and says “RedBull gives you wingsssss!” I start screaming because Petunia is going to be a RedBull superstar! She’s now a shining star.

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Sarah ran from killer-natalia Rodriguez 

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Sarah ran from killer-natalia Rodriguez 

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Sarah ran from the serial killer holding a jug of milk,because she doesn’t like milk and had a fear of it.She kept on hearing the milk go up and down in the jug, which made her run faster. She started stopping when she saw a red car coming her way,she jumped in the road and started waving her arms to get their attention.She managed to get their attention , the car stopped and Mike(the guy in the car) screamed “get out the road lady” Sarah screamed “HELP ME PLEASE” Mike screamed back at her “DO YOU WANT ME TO CALL THE POLICE” and Sarah screamed “YES PLEASE” Mike drove up to her and said “get in”,Sarah then got in, it felt like a sauna,then he locked the door,then drove up to the serial killer and unlocked the door the serial killer then got in. Sarah asked “what is happening” they didn’t say anything, just laughed.After the car stopped Sarah looked out the window she saw that they were at this old abandoned house the serial killer covered her eyes and took her inside. Since that day none ever saw Sarah again.