The Adult That Was Like a Child

  Ms. Wren P. Quillus was a perfect adult. She was neat, obedient, serious, and responsible. No one ever expected the day when she finally cracked.
  She was sitting on a wooden chair (not the spinning kind...way too irresponsible) in front of her computer typing away like a proper business lady. Lately, she had noticed a slight difference within her psyche. Something was building up like a thunderstorm just upon the horizon. It would turn out to be equally as dangerous.
  "Quillus, are those reports done?" her boss, Mr. Benning, asked.
  "Yes." Wren replied dutifully.
  The feeling continued to progress for the rest of the day and all through the night. It built up more and more. Wren became increasingly uncomfortable. She felt the need to slide down banisters, skip work, play on the playground, sing a silly song, and dance in the rain. Wren squashed the need as well she could and it was alll she could do not to skip to work.
  "Good morning, Quillus! Great job on your report!" congratulated Mr. Benning.
  "HI! I-I m-mean g-good-d m-morn-ning." she stuttered.
  Wren rushed into her cubicle and dropped into her chair. She squirmed uncontrollably. The mysterious pressure became stronger and stronger until the dam of her mind burst.
  "HELLO!!! IT'S TIME TO DANCE DANCE DANCE!!!!" she screamed. "GOOFY GOOBER ROCK!!!!!!"
  The people in the office jumped up and ran to Wren's cubicle. They found her dancing on the top her desk. 
  "EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!!! BUM BUM BUM BUM!" she jumped off the desk, saying, "THE BRITISH ARE COMING!!!! RUN!"
  Mr. Benning whipped out his phone and called up the "men in white." They arrived shortly dragging Wren Quillus out of the building. Later that day you could hear almost everybody saying, "Wren? Wren P. Quillus? She went crazy? No way! She did? Oh wow!"
  The doctors figured out that the child part Wren's brain had finally broken free. She was sent an insane asylum in Antartica. You can see her in Room 113. She's probably still there.

The Scariest Movie

  I've watched a lot of scary movies in my time and I can honestly tell you I haven't reallly been scared of ny of them. I'd honestly have to say the movie that brought me closest to being scared was probably either Resident Evil 3 or Drag Me to _. Honestly neither were that scary.
  Drag Me to _ wasn't that scary but it had a huge gross out factor. There were lots of dead bodies, and gooey stuff coming out of dead people's mouths, and killing kittens. It was so gross it was almost funny.
  Resident Evil 3 was scary because I watched it when I was eight. It wasn't a good idea. Let's just say I wasn't able to think of anything remotely dead without thinking about zombies. I watched it again in about a year, and I realized it wasn't actually that scary.

My Dollar Bill

  My dollar bill is mostly on dreaming. So, here is what I decided to do.
  1.  My signature
  2. I chose Pocahontos for the person because she reminds me of standing up for your dreams.
  3. I named my country line Powhatan Dreams because again, this dollar bill is based on dreams and Pocahontos was from the Powhatan tribe.
  4. My symbol is a dream catcher because it symbolizes having only good dreams.
  5. The motto I chose was "Yesterday is but today's memory, tommorow is today's dream."

What Makes a Good Friend???

  Note: All names in this story have been substituted for the sake of privacy.
 
  It was one of those Mondays. The kind of Monday that makes you want to crawl under a rock and never come out. The kind of Monday where the whole world wishes it could go back to sleep. Of course you can't because you have to go to school.
  I was sitting in my desk squished between Matthew Greene and Rachel Poutanica. Matthew was straining to stay awake, and Rachel was bright and alert. Our teacher, Mrs. Rowac, was chugging down coffee like it was water from the Fountain of Youth.
  "Class, welcome our new student, Joanne Fisher." Mrs. Rowac sighed.
  A short girl walked in cautiously. She had short brown hair, and was covered in freckles. Her eyes were a slightly washed out blue. She carried a folder with puppies printed on it.
  "H-hi. I-I'm Joanne. Call me Jo." she stuttered.
  "Take the seat next to Morgan. Morgan raise your hand." Rowac commanded.
  I raised my hand slowly, and gave Joanne a small smile. She walked over and sat down.
  "Hi. I'm Morgan." I greeted.
  "Hi. I'm Jo." she said back.
  "Wanna be friends?" I asked nonchalantly.
  "O-oh. Okay." she agreed.
  That meeting started a beautiful friendship. Jo was really fun, she stood up for me, and she taught me that being a good friend meant that you always stick together.

Why Would You Want That?

  I was enjoying a normal walk in the park on a normal afternoon. The sun was shining, the slight breeze cooled the air. It was really nice out.
  "Miri!!! How are you?! Why don't you come to mall with us?!" a sudden shrill voice disrupted my peace.
  "OH! THAT IS MIRI!! HI! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?!!!" a bellowing voice followed.
   I would have recognized those voices anywhere. I cursed fate and, went to say my greetings. The whole time I was thinking "Why me?"
  "Hello, Bea. Hello, Trina." I moaned.
  Believe me when I say I don't hate them. Beatrice "Bea" Banaby had been one of the most popular people in college. When I decided I didn't want to hang out with her she decided to investigate (stalk). Katrina "Trina" Long was captain of the football team, and she's a girl. When I became the track captain she resolved to stalk me as well.
  "Miri, we were just going to the cutest little shop! Everything they sell is one of a kind. You should come with us." Bea beamed.
  "Uh....sure." I said, not wanting to be rude.
  I walked along with them until we came upon a cute little shop. It was made of warm rose colored bricks, and had a cute little sign that said, "The Unique Boutique."
  We walked in and a bell rang, announcing our arrival. A small, stout woman dressed in a loose purple dress rushed over.
  "Salutations! May I help you?" she twittered.
  I stared at her strange attire. Her red hair was tied back in a black lacy bandanna. Her shoes had dangerously high heels.
  "Yes! Yes! We are looking for something totally out there." Trina squealed.
  "Oh! I have just the thing!" the purple clad woman promised.
  She led us into the back of the store. The air got musty, and had dust floating around. The woman's heels clacked, and her dress dragged across the floor.
  We suddenly stopped. I was shocked at what I saw. It was the worst fashion abomination I had ever seen in my life.
  It was a hideously bright yellow dress that was ridiculously long on one side. On the other side the skirt barely hit the middle of the mannequin's thigh. The horror had little hot pink bows dotting the whole thing. A large hot pink bow was sown on the butt. The bodice was covered in yellow canary feathers and fake pink rhinestones. The dress came with a pair of pink and yellow zebra print stiletto heels.
  "Woah..." I was completely awed by it's hideousness.
  "I know! It's beautiful!!" Bea gushed. "I must have it!!!"
  "It is absolutely stunning, but I will be the one buying it." Trina insisted.
  "Deary me! This is one of a kind." the shopkeeper said. "Only one of you can have it."
  I stared in shock at my two companions. Were they really that stupid. The dress was absolutely ugly.
  "I want it!" Bea screamed.
  "GIVE IT TO ME!!!!" Trina screeched.
  I decided it was probably time for me to go. I slipped out of the store, leaving the the two morons to argue over the dress for all time. Just kidding! Eventually, the weird lady threw them out.

The J.K. Rowling Monument

  There have been countless monuments dedicated to great people. If I could dedicate a monument to someone that person would be J.K. Rowling. She, as you probably know, wrote the Harry Potter series.
  The monument would be a huge stone statue of Harry Potter flying on a broom with Voldemort and two deatheaters chasing him. The statue would be made of granite or marble.
  I'd probably want the statue to be put somewhere cool like in front of the National Library. If I couldn't put it there I'd just keep it in my room. Or I might put it inside the Newark Library. All of those loacations work for me.
  People would (I hope) like to look at the statue. J.K. Rowling would have to see it too. What would be the point if she didn't know there was a monument honoring her. Hopefully, she'd feel flattered and happy.

Shish the Fish

  When I was younger I would have given up my life for my goldfish, Shish the Fish. He was orange and yellow. Shish was the laziest, sorriest fish I'd ever seen. For some reason I loved him anyway. I can't imagine why. He did NOTHING.
  When he died I wallowed in my sorrow for a week. All over a ridiculously lazy fish. I now would never feel bad over Shish. I would never sacrifice my life for a fish now. That would be stupid.
   When he passed away, I went through a whole funeral procession. It included my parents, my toys, and I marching around the backyard. We ended at the toilet where we flushed Shish down.
  Yeah... I was pretty stupid. I really do realize that goldfish die quickly.