My Name is Sophie

   HI! My name is Sophie, and I am 5 years old.  I have brown eyes, and black hair.  My bestest friend in the whole wild world is Becca.  Her real name is Rebecca, but I like Becca much better.  Becca is really fun.  She has really fun ideas.
   Becca don't like chocolate, but I do.  It's the yummiest thing ever.  Becca likes cheese.  I like cheese too, but chocolate is much better.
   Becca is really short, but her hair is the longest in the whole class.  It's kind of a yellowish brownish color.  My black hair is puffy, and short.  I wish I had Becca's hair.
   Becca is kinda not so nice some times.  Sometimes she says she needs space.  I don't know why she needs all those stars and planets.  I'm not sure why she says she needs space to read, but I think maybe she can't read in the daytime.  You can't see space during the daytime.
   Becca is the bestest friend ever!  I love her a lot.  She probably loves me too.    
  

My Sonnet

Blaire the Witch

By Rebecca Davis

Blaire was a terrible witch.

Her potions were pink.

She never could make itching powder that itched.

And her broomstick would always sink.

Blaire’s tests were coming up.

She knew she did well in the writing exam.

Her cauldron would end up blown up.

She always failed the hands-on program.

She sweated and slaved.

Her fingers were cramped and achy.

She prayed that from the tests she would be saved.

When it was finished she was sure she’d done awfully.

When the results came her scores were ghastly,

   But everyone else was worse than she.

The Luck of the Irish?

   A few years ago I had a friend who was Irish.  She had this bright red hair, and really pale skin.  Her name was Sara.  Sara probably had the worst luck I've ever seen in my life.  Her whole life was filled with bad luck for some bizarre reason.
   Sara lost her pencil case in the first week of school, and she kept tripping all the time.  At first I'd dismissed it as being disorganization and clumsiness, but then I heard that her favorite bracelet had gotten stolen.  I was starting to think that her "luck of the Irish" was bad luck.
   She lost things constantly, tripped over pencils, and got in trouble all the time for being late.  At the end of school year Sara moved away,. and her bad luck went with her.  It was unusually quiet until I finally got used to life without constant yelling from Sara.  

The Legend of the Wet Dad

   Once upon a time in a land very close to here, not so long ago I was visiting the abode of my mother's sister, who I called Aunt Denise.  She was a very shot and thin woman who loved to exercise, and for this reason she had gotten a pool installed in her backyard.
   On a holiday my whole family decided to go swimming at her home.  We were all wearing bathing suits except for my father, who had decided he wasn't in the mood to swim.  Since, my older brother decided that everyone had to go for a swim he snuck up behind my dad, and you can probably guess what happened.  He pushed my dad in, clothes and all.  My dad came up sputtering and choking on the water.  He turned red and came out of the pool shaking with anger... or was he laughing? Oh! He was laughing.  Well, honestly Matthew was just lucky he didn't decide to push him in too.

Sun Poisoning

   I hate sunscreen.  It could possibly be one of the most foul substances on Earth.  I honestly could never see a really good reason to wear it.  I never burned.
   Then came the sunniest day of the year.  It was the kind of day that you were sure that the sun was laughing at your pain.  I completely forgot about sunscreen, and I was at the beach.  The whole day I swam, and played in the sand without a care.
   Later that night, as we were driving home, I felt a horrible pain in my face.  It felt as if it was on fire, and when I touched it my hands were almost burned.  I tried to ignore it, but we were only half way there and I couldn't even pretend that I was fine.  So, I mentioned it.
   When we got home and my mom took a good look at my face she looked a little pale.  My skin was bubbling up into painful blisters, and soon almost my whole face was just one huge awful blister.  I couldn't go outside for a week without my face burning more than it already was.  It took two and a half weeks to finally get the last of the peeling skin off of me.  Needless to say I try to wear sunscreen in the summer now.  But, I still hate it.
 
 

The Stench of Cheese

    My sister and I were ridiculously excited.  Our Auntie Clementine was coming to our house for Dairy Day!  Dairy Day is a day that I celebrate everything milk related with my family.  We feast on delicious cheeses, yogurt, ice cream, milkshakes, and drink nothing but milk in all flavors.
   "HELLO, children! HOW are YOU?" called Auntie Clementine, in that strange way she yelled every other word, as she walked through the front door.
   "Awesome, Auntie!" Sanya, my sister called out.
   "And WHAT about MY most CHEESE loving NIECE, Claire?" she asked loudly. "COME give YOUR awesomely AMAZING aunt A hug!"
   "Yes, Auntie Clem." I said as I moved to give her a hug.
   As my arms wrapped around her rather large stomach I almost gagged.  A stench so foul seemed to be coming from my beloved aunt.  Why hadn't she washed before she came? She always washed once a year right before the Dairy Day celebration.
   "I have A surprise FOR you, CLAIRE!" Auntie Clem crowed.
   I unfortunately was place next to Auntie Clementine during the dairy feast.  I almost didn't enjoy the festivities. Then, at the end of the feast my aunt made an announcement.
   "FAMILY we ARE gathered HERE today TO enjoy THE dairy.  I have BROUGHT something AMAZING!  I HAVE brought DELICIOUS cheese FROM France TO share WITH you ALL!"
   So, that was the source of the awful stench.  It turns out that despite the terrible smell the cheese brought me great joy with its amazing taste.  Well, the only downside was that everyone had bad breath for a while.
    
  

Vampire Spider

   In an underground laboratory in Africa a jumping spider was trapped in a clear container.  The spider was a female dubbed Anisa by a young scientist.  Anisa was craving human blood, as her species does.  A delicious mosquito that had just had a meal of blood would be appreciated.
   Dr. Livia Warden was in the next room donating some of her blood.  The blood would go to be fed to Anisa.  Livia loved Anisa more than any human she had ever met.  Anisa listened to her despite the fact she was only twenty-two.  So, the least she could do was provide a meal for the spider.
   Livia finished up taking her blood and walked into Anisa's room.
   "Anisa, darling!  You look beautiful today!" Dr. Warden cooed.
   Anisa looked up with her many eyes at the vibrations the doctor caused.  Oh, it's just that loud, ugly creature.  I think she has my food.  She tried to look as cute as a spider who drinks blood can.  Hey, it worked for monkeys.
   The doctor thought it was extremely cute, which is actually kind of creepy.  Livia then decided it was a good idea to take Anisa out of her cage.
   "Anisa, you adorable thing!  Come to Livia!"
   Anisa, being the spider she was, gracefully climbed onto Dr. Warden's arm.  She suddenly froze. The spider felt the pulse beneath the doctor's skin.  She smelled the scent of blood.  How delicious!
   "Anisa, you're such a goo-Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!" Livia broke off and screamed.
   Anisa bit into the flesh of the human.  Blood welled up in her mouth.  It was so delicious, with it's salty metallic taste.
   Dr. Warden's scream attracted another doctor who quickly yanked the spider off of Livia and squashed Anisa with his boot.
   "NOOOOOOOOOO!  How could you have killed her?! YOU MONSTER!" Livia shrieked.
   "B-but she was b-biting you." the other doctor stammered.
   "Idiot! Anisa, I love you!' she weeped.
    Up in spider heaven Anisa was looking down on the two doctors.  What is the ugly loud creature doing? Eh, it doesn't matter.  She was just a food supply.

Finished

   My story sat in front of me on college ruled paper.  I twirled my pen restlessly, and occasional chewed on the end.  Was it done?  Was it? I couldn't decide.  There was a beginning, middle, and end.  the conflict was done, but it seemed to be missing something.  I didn't have anything left to say, did I?
   That was my dilemma.  How could I be sure that my story was at an end?  I had no choice, so I went to someone for help.
   "So, what do you think?" I asked after they had read it.
   "It's good, but the ending isn't quite right." they said.
   "Yeah, I know."
   I pondered over my issue for a few hours.  Then, I got bored.  Maybe doing something different would help.  I read a great book, and went back to my story.  I read through it twice, and suddenly I knew.  I just knew what I needed.  As I wrote the last sentence I realized I was trying too hard.  What I had needed was something straight from my heart.  I had nothing left to say.  I was finished.  

The Swarm

   Have you ever been on vacation innocently shopping or something along those lines when a vicious swarm of tourists descend upon the street?  It's terrifying.  You try to make yourself as small as possible and hope that they won't notice you.  If they find you they either trample you, or they'll force you to take pictures of them with their cheap disposable cameras when all you want to do is strangle them with the film.
   That's happened to me more than once, and every time I think the same thing.  If they're spending all their time taking pictures when do they do anything fun.  I think if you spend all your time taking pictures you never actually experience anything.
   So, if you see a tourist run away as fast as you can. Seriously, do it!  If you know a tourist(and you're feeling daring) try to rescue them from the awful fate of joining the swarm.  

Poisonous

   It was a fairly well known fact.  A right of passage, so to speak.  Every noble boy was given a quest by their wizard godfather.  If they completed it they became men.  If they failed then they'd probably die or be shunned forever.  So it wasn't for no reason that  Sir Christopher le Croux was nervous.
   "Do you have your sword? Do you have your horse ready? Is your shield polished?" his advisor, Blake, asked.
   "Yes! Now, I have to go receive my quest!  Get out of my way!" Chris snapped.
   "Yes, sir." Blake murmured.
   Chris scurried to the east tower where Mandrake, his wizard godfather, lived.  The staircase was steep and crumbly. It felt as if the tower was about to collapse at any minute.
   "Godfather! GODFATHER!" the boy called.
   "Oh my Magi, shut up!  Why are you here, brat?!" the foul tempered wizard replied.
   "Um...you're supposed to give me my quest." he meekly replied.
   Mandrake spun around and stared at him. He stared a little longer. Then, he burst out laughing.
   "You?! You'll never make it!' he guffawed. "But, it's a chance to get rid of you."
   You can probably imagine that that statement didn't exactly boost his confidence.  The wizard skipped to his huge blue filing cabinet.  Mandrake never skipped!  His wrinkly pale hands flipped through all the files until they landed on File Rose.
   "Here you are! You're quest is to go to the Valley of Red Soil, and pick the Rose of Healing.  Then, take it to the Kingdom of Retina and give it to the ill Princess Iris in the form of tea to cure her disease."
   "Yes, Godfather." Chris agreed.
   Chris hopped on his strong white horse, and rode for three day and two nights to the Valley of Red Soil.  Obviously, the soil was red.  He suddenly whooped in joy.  There were two roses right up ahead!
   Oh! How would he decide which rose was the Rose of Healing?  The roses themselves were beautiful in different ways.  One rose was white as freshly fallen snow.  It radiated peace and purity.  The other rose was black as the darkest night.  It exuded a sinister, alluring aura.
   Chris decided in an instant.  Clearly, the white rose, which seemed do comforting, would cure the princess of her illness.  He carefully plucked it from the blood red ground, and started his journey to the Kingdom of Retina.
   He arrived a day later, and was immediately escorted to Princess Iris' bedchamber.  The princess looked deathly pale, and her voice sounded as hoarse as a crow's.  Chris quickly made the rose tea, and Iris swallowed it weakly.
   The change was immediate.  Her voice sounded like an angel.  Her skin glowed with a heavenly radiance, and her smile nearly made Chris swoon.  She kissed him on the forehead, and started to fade away.  Chris panicked. What was happening?
   "Thank you, Christopher le Croux.  You have cured me of the fever called living.  I'm free!" she said, as she disapeared.
   "Oh no! I must have chosen the wrong rose!"  Chris moaned.
   Just then the guards came in, and when they realized the situation dragged the moaning boy to the gallows.  There he was lynched.
   It wasn't until many years later when it came to light that the Rose of Healing(black) and the Rose of Death(white) showed what the person who would take them truly wished.  Princess Iris truly wished to die.  That was why the Rose of Healing was black and evil looking. She thought that life was evil.