I pulled my blankets over my head as my twin sister turned on the light to retrieve her clothes from our shared closet. I peeked through a hole that I had made between the blanket and the bed to catch a glimpse of my alarm clock, which read 6:45. "Taylor, what are you doing up at 6 in the morning on the first day of summer?" I yelled at my sister from under the blankets. She was standing by the closet, slowly picking out her outfit for the day. "Sorry, but I don't feel like being a bum for three months," she said. I could hear the snottiness in her voice. Slowly, I pushed the blankets down and crawled out of bed. It was not a very good start to my summer. Groggily, I got dressed and trudged to the kitchen to get some breakfast. I guessed I might as well stay awake because I knew that Taylor wasn't going to let me go back to sleep. I had been awake for what seemed like 24 hours, but really only two hours had passed.
I was ready for the day to end, even though it had barely started. I went to the bookshelf that was on the wall opposite of mine and Taylor’s beds. I crouched and grabbed the book I was currently reading, which was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. This is my favorite book. I have read it 4 times and I’m halfway through it for the fifth time. I plopped down onto my bed and cracked open the book. I had been reading for about 20 minutes and then I heard the bathroom door open and Taylor walked in wearing a purple T-shirt and a pair of old blue jeans. “Want to come to the library with Jezebel and I?
But why? I couldn’t come up with an explanation for her sour mood, so I decided to drop it and let her tell us if she wanted to. We all ate lunch in silence. Mom came and went from the kitchen to the living room where she had the TV on. After I finished, I put my plate in the dishwasher and went back to my room so I could continue reading my book. Another hour or so passed before I heard Jezebel’s mom pull up to take her home. Finally!, I thought in my head, I can finally go to the living room. I picked up my book and walked to the living room. I walked into the room to mom and Taylor sitting on the couch staring at me solemnly while I slowed my walk down the hall. My mom patted the couch next to her. I took that as a signal to come and sit down, so I did. “I have something to share with you guys,” Mom said with a sad look on her face.
I’m running as fast as I can to set the last fire for the trap. I’m beginning to think that I might have a chance of winning the Hunger Games. If this strategy works and kills all or most of the career tributes then this game will be a lot easier to win. I am so glad that I have Katniss as an ally. I miss my family back in district 11 even though it was tough living there I still had a lot of fun with my family. I know I’m safe when I’m with my family and Katniss really gave me that feeling; the feeling of being at home with my family. She makes me feel stronger and less lonely. She helps me escape from the thought of dying in this arena but slowly the thought fades away and I start to feel afraid again. I remember that this is the Hunger Games, not just a random TV show. There is only one winner and it’s either I kill Katniss or she kills me, but I would rather her kill me. She has to take care of so much like her family in district 12. If we had a choice I would let her kill me. I thought to myself, what if I get killed before I even reach the place where I set the fire? What if I get… and before I could even finish what I was thinking my legs were caught in a knot I believe was made out of rope and then a net came down and trapped me. I fall to the ground. I could feel my heart beating as fast as hummingbird’s wings flapping from flower to flower. I tried to call for help but no one answered; I felt so stupid knowing that we were all in a competition when we kill each other to win and I’m asking for help. As the moon passes by I just think about all the happy times I’ve spent with my family and the time I’ve had with Katniss. I laugh and cry while thinking about everything. It seemed like it was just yesterday when I was harves...
One aspect of reading that I enjoy is getting so wrapped up in the story. When the character's heart pounds, my heart pounds. When they hold their breath, I hold my breath. It feels like I'm there in the story. I get absorbed in the plot and take in every detail. A challenge I have regarding reading is that I tend to stop in the middle of a series if the beginning of the book isn't very interesting. I want to read further, but I end up procrastinating until it gets lost under my bed. I am hoping to improve my reading this year by remembering to look up word I don't know. This will help me to better understand whatever story I am reading. My favorite text from last year was definitely The Book Thief. This compelling novel always kept me on the
The cry for help was not heard. Emily came up with so many excuses to spend some quality time with her mother and they were not acknowledged. “Can’t you go some other time, Mommy, like tomorrow?”(Pg.225) Emily’s mother was young herself and had a rough raising did not know the signs of asking for help.
When people set goals in life, they tend to learn lessons along the way. In The Alchemist, a boy named Santiago has a goal of finding treasure near the pyramids in Egypt. On his journey, he meets people who teach him about life and ways to reach goals. Santiago learned from a merchant, an Englishman, and an alchemist. One thing that he learned that stood out to me the most was: “before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way (Coelho 132).” That stood out to me because it is true, it has happened to me and it happened to Santiago.
. I applied to graduate school with the long term goal of working in a correctional facility. A childhood friend of mine was arrested and sent to prison in August 2007. I saw him four years after his incarceration. These four years definitely took a toll on his physical appearance and his way of thinking. He is 25 and has the looks of a young person whose youth has been wasted. As I sat with him, I had high hopes of being able to laugh out loud while reminiscing about the past. However, I became upset and tears of sadness trickled down my face. He confided to me thoughts of suicide. He explained to me in prison terminology or street talk, one must never drop the soap. I sobbed as he continued to talk about his sentence. At times, his words
She woke up at 6:00 am one morning to the sounds of loud banging on the door, but she was used to it as that was just her morning alarm. She got out of bed and changed into her baggy, worn-out red dress that didn’t fit her right anymore. She then made her bed, making sure to keep the crisp white sheets straight
I’ve always taken after my dad, so it should not have been a surprise when my reading habits took after him too. My whole life I have been able to sit and read for hours on end without disturbance, however as I began to read your book The Book Thief I felt a shift. It wasn't your book per say. It was more like the entrance to a new era. The hours I spent on the fantastical worlds turned into minutes, and the time I spent with my mom became time spent with my father. It just took your book to realize what was truly happening. I was growing up.
As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself. Sure enough, after a short period of being in the car, the questions began.
I woke up and got ready, like a normal summer day. I could hear the cicadas chirping like usual, the sun shining as bright as a flashlight, and could feel the sticky humid air, which is typical in Kansas during the summer. I had previously stayed a night at Jordaan’s house. Jordaan and I have been best friends since kindergarten. Our parents even attended the same high school around the same time. His family is basically my second family. If I am not at my house, I’m usually
The little girl continued reading tirelessly, just trying to keep her eyes open long enough to finish the thirty minutes. Throughout my time growing up, I've had an unusual experience reading. I never really liked reading as a kid and I still don't have a strong passion to read. I would find myself falling asleep to books when I was in elementary and middle school. For my age I was a pretty advanced reader but none of the books were intriguing to me. This mostly started happening after getting read to wasn't something that my reading log would allow.
“Hurry Ollie, meet us at the tree.” Bucket didn’t even wait for me to reply before leaving. I quickly snuck into my mom’s room to see if she was still asleep-- she was.
“I understand that you don’t appreciate our attitudes, I admit that we aren’t happy. But this whole trip has not been what we signed up for,” Alana said.
it was a cold breezy Halloween night the sun was just about to go down and I’m Waiting on the front porch in my nerd Halloween costume which consist of white high waisted shorts with a plaid orange and red button down and suspenders to top it all off I put on big glasses and two pigtails. waiting for my friend Kalia to pick me up I put on my headphones and started to listening to an old song by Beyonce ,about ten minutes later, my Kalia and her mom pull up in a light blue mustang as I approached the car I noticed she decided to be a Regina George from mean girls with a pink shirt that says we wear pink on Wednesday a with a pink skirt and a pink camisole.My other friend Taylor, who is also Kalias cousin came dressed as the star from clueless she had a plaid yellow jacket with matching skirt and a white shirt underneath. I greeted both of them and we drove off.
My room-mate, Melissa, was bubbling with excitement when I told her the plans for the night. So we both started getting ready. I changed into the only pair of flares I owned, and a pink tank top. I had Melissa iron my hair for me, so I could wear it down, which is something that I don't usually do. The phone rang, and it was Laura. She was outside waiting for us, it was time to go.
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her gargantuan skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every morning together