-Every time a person smokes a cigarette, it takes about 7-10 minutes of his life, and he won’t be able to recover this time no matter what he/she does.
-Smokers reduce their life by 6-10 years.
- Smoking will permanently damage your cells, which later develop into cancer cells that will give you many kinds of fatal incurable diseases.
- Children left near smoking parents or relatives have experienced lung problems and developed allergies.
-Children influenced by smoking adults have a 75% chance that they will smoke when they grow up.
- Children of smoking adults have a higher percentage of getting lung cancer.
- If you saved up the cigarette money an addicted smoker spent for 15-20 years, you could buy a brand new car or an expensive vacation.
- Smoking causes 90% of lung cancer in the U.S.
- An over dosage of nicotine may cause brain damage or death.
- Smoking causes brain, skin, and lung problems, in the pain fullest ways. (Coughing, choking, spitting out blood, pain when breathing, unhealthy image, faster aging process by 0.02% every few cigarettes.)
I have read the text above:
(Signature)
I have considered the text above:
(Signature)
I have agreed to the text above:
(Signature)
I will discontinue my smoking for 4 weeks:
(Signature)
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Dear demented diary
My life is ruined because of my stupid sister, Cherri. She knew that my life was gonna be over if I didn’t have my home work by tomorrow, so she took my home work, and well… WHRRRR! Down the laundry! And who pays for it? ME! I ended up wearing papery pants to school. It’s weird how you have to get what you don’t need to deserve, when other people don’t get what they deserve. It’s all stupid. And whoever is reading this, you’re an idiot, and if you think idiot is a bad word and you tell me not to put the word “idiot” in my diary, then I’ll know you read my demented diary and I swear- you will pay. So please don’t read on further, and go do something funnier, like watching TV (Not literally, it’s not fair my satellite cable’s broken.) So thank you very much.
Diary of
Shuke
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Who She Is
That peculiar kind of girl who everyone likes
But every move she tends to do seems out of her mind
She seems so snobby out of hobby
Mean and well I
I kind of want to be like her I hope that’s alright
Yeah she’s a star
a star
Oh no I don’t lie
But have you seen her in the runway looking like she’s the fire
Hey girl I know you and I see you on the show every night
But tonight, tonight
You’ll find out who she-ee is, cause
She’s breaking down looking like bri-i- tney Spears
And no I don’t give a damn for who she is
Yeah she’s strong
Last for long
Shocking glow of the lips
But who is she is
We all know, yeah we know her alright.
But every move she tends to do seems out of her mind
She seems so snobby out of hobby
Mean and well I
I kind of want to be like her I hope that’s alright
Yeah she’s a star
a star
Oh no I don’t lie
But have you seen her in the runway looking like she’s the fire
Hey girl I know you and I see you on the show every night
But tonight, tonight
You’ll find out who she-ee is, cause
She’s breaking down looking like bri-i- tney Spears
And no I don’t give a damn for who she is
Yeah she’s strong
Last for long
Shocking glow of the lips
But who is she is
We all know, yeah we know her alright.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Inside the Room
I have just entered a strange and eerie house. Suddenly, I hear a sickly moaning sound coming from a room down the hall… As I cautiously approach the door, I am taken back by a bizarre odor. My heart pounding, I peer through the slightly open door and see a damp, empty room with an immense mirror placed on the cold dark wall. I became more and more timorous as I preceded the mirror. Suddenly, I felt movement behind me. I turned around and there was nothing, but when I quickly turned back to the wall, I caught the glimpse of an eerie shadow in the mirror. Unexpectedly, I was knocked on to the wall by a swift gesture of wind, and the mirror above me fell by the uproar of movement, right onto my head. My head felt sore and fractured, but I had no time to rub it, because behind me I heard a piercing vain shriek, and something black, rotten, and foul smelling poured liquidly onto my head. A hideous creature stood before me, disgusting yellow liquid pouring out its eye sockets, and its body covered in red hives and masses of black unsightly hair. It reached up a finger to poke me, and I made an earsplitting scream, drawing the monstrous creature back. I ran for the door, and dashed out in a rapid sprint. As I darted out the house, I looked behind me and saw the appalling monster staring frighteningly back at me.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
PETERS SPELL
Brick had an ashen face, back at his house. Heavy rain poured down the pipes in the room, and he wondered for a split second if he was going to have to postpone the sleepover at the old Wellington house, due to the conditions. Or maybe he didn’t need to have a sleepover. Maybe just a Halloween meeting of some type. But where? Suddenly, Brick remembered the small broken down tree house at the bottom of the village, a few block away form his house. The tree house had fallen from a monstrous oak tree, and had landed on a surprised young man disabling his life forever. Many littler kids had been reluctant to go in there, but Brick himself had never feared the tree house. He’d been inside for at least two times during summer, and both times the isolated room had been dry, stable, and safe. The room could be the answer… Brick snapped out of his thoughts. Out of all the positive circumstances of the room, the whole thing was problematic. Brick was planning for petrified faces, grotesque expressions, and various types of terrorizing screams. He decided to get there early t dampen up the place with some bloodier props before his friends arrived. Brick grabbed a bottle of ketchup and headed for the door. Little did he know that the tree house was already a house of horror…
BAM! A sharp bolt of brilliant lighting slammed itself against the wooden tree house walls. The room was flooded with water, just like Peter had planned. However, the situation was frightening. Peter felt naive just thinking he had done it. I’m hallucinating. He thought bitterly to himself as he saw a dark shadow across the room. For a slight moment, things went off track and Peter almost passed out, but he had held himself together and clawed the pieces back together again. The turbulent water threw Peter against the walls, playing him like a toy, but Peter had remained calm with anticipation. Finally, he heard the hesitant eerie crunching of feet on dry leaves, and slowly, the wild thrashing rhythm of his heartbeat softened, and the plan came into silent action.
***
Brick walked into the tree house, shivering. His black leather jacket was drenched, the black silk sticking to his skin. He swore he heard a young male’s ghastly singing voice.
“Up the mountains, towards the sky
Into the fire, of the burning hells.”
Brick had never felt this unsure or scared. He was frozen in fear, of what he saw beyond him, after his eyes had adjusted. There on the wet floor was Peter, soaked up in his own blood. Bricks blood drained from his face. He tried to scream, but his mouth was as dry as cotton, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He scampered desperately towards the tree house door but to his horror, the door didn’t budge. He felt a ghostly twitching behind him, and he heard a bloodcurdling scream. It was his own. He fell silently against the damp wall, and closed him eyes. He didn’t dare breath. Something light and mushy touched his shoulder. Brick smelt sour warm breathing by his neck, and he listened, paralyzed with fear, to the raucous voice hovering around in the air.
“Haggard Brick, you must listen carefully.” Brick had never heard anyone call him by his first name. “
“I’ll do anything is you let me go!” He pleaded
“I don’t need you to do anything.” The voice whispered. ‘This is nothing you can get away with. Remember the man that got crushed by this tree house?” Brick nodded fearfully. “Well, his life was like a daunting puzzle. Nothing fit together.
“Why are you telling me this?” Brick screamed.
“SH…” The voice whispered. “You see, when you get stuck on a puzzle, you start at the edges. Then you figure out the rest. This is what we did to that man. We did the edges, and then let him figure out the rest. Then he regretted the edges we gave him. Now he has a hole in his afterlife. So listen very carefully. You must start from the center of the puzzle. Then you finish the edges last.”
“What?” Brick yelled. But the voice was fading.
“The edge of death…” Brick understood now. The middle was life. The edge was death. If he started at the edge, he would have no middle. If he started at the middle, he would have both. So this is what he had been doing to Peter all along. Building the pain, the suicidal feeling. Building the edge of Peters puzzle. He wouldn’t terrorize anyone, anymore. The hideous sting of death was in the air. Brick took one last solemn glance at Peter, and then got up, turned the knob, and walked out the door.
After a while, Peter opened his eyes and licked the corn syrup blood off his lips. He sat up and rubbed his sore head.
“The spirits have done you well, Brick.” He chuckled as he walked out the door to the way home.
The end
BAM! A sharp bolt of brilliant lighting slammed itself against the wooden tree house walls. The room was flooded with water, just like Peter had planned. However, the situation was frightening. Peter felt naive just thinking he had done it. I’m hallucinating. He thought bitterly to himself as he saw a dark shadow across the room. For a slight moment, things went off track and Peter almost passed out, but he had held himself together and clawed the pieces back together again. The turbulent water threw Peter against the walls, playing him like a toy, but Peter had remained calm with anticipation. Finally, he heard the hesitant eerie crunching of feet on dry leaves, and slowly, the wild thrashing rhythm of his heartbeat softened, and the plan came into silent action.
***
Brick walked into the tree house, shivering. His black leather jacket was drenched, the black silk sticking to his skin. He swore he heard a young male’s ghastly singing voice.
“Up the mountains, towards the sky
Into the fire, of the burning hells.”
Brick had never felt this unsure or scared. He was frozen in fear, of what he saw beyond him, after his eyes had adjusted. There on the wet floor was Peter, soaked up in his own blood. Bricks blood drained from his face. He tried to scream, but his mouth was as dry as cotton, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He scampered desperately towards the tree house door but to his horror, the door didn’t budge. He felt a ghostly twitching behind him, and he heard a bloodcurdling scream. It was his own. He fell silently against the damp wall, and closed him eyes. He didn’t dare breath. Something light and mushy touched his shoulder. Brick smelt sour warm breathing by his neck, and he listened, paralyzed with fear, to the raucous voice hovering around in the air.
“Haggard Brick, you must listen carefully.” Brick had never heard anyone call him by his first name. “
“I’ll do anything is you let me go!” He pleaded
“I don’t need you to do anything.” The voice whispered. ‘This is nothing you can get away with. Remember the man that got crushed by this tree house?” Brick nodded fearfully. “Well, his life was like a daunting puzzle. Nothing fit together.
“Why are you telling me this?” Brick screamed.
“SH…” The voice whispered. “You see, when you get stuck on a puzzle, you start at the edges. Then you figure out the rest. This is what we did to that man. We did the edges, and then let him figure out the rest. Then he regretted the edges we gave him. Now he has a hole in his afterlife. So listen very carefully. You must start from the center of the puzzle. Then you finish the edges last.”
“What?” Brick yelled. But the voice was fading.
“The edge of death…” Brick understood now. The middle was life. The edge was death. If he started at the edge, he would have no middle. If he started at the middle, he would have both. So this is what he had been doing to Peter all along. Building the pain, the suicidal feeling. Building the edge of Peters puzzle. He wouldn’t terrorize anyone, anymore. The hideous sting of death was in the air. Brick took one last solemn glance at Peter, and then got up, turned the knob, and walked out the door.
After a while, Peter opened his eyes and licked the corn syrup blood off his lips. He sat up and rubbed his sore head.
“The spirits have done you well, Brick.” He chuckled as he walked out the door to the way home.
The end
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Darkness
by Shuke
I am falling,
Into the darkness,
Death and doom surrounds me,
And I see a pale light above,
Paralyzed in fear,
The treacherous world swallows me,
And as a ghastly hand reaches towards me,
I hear a bloodcurdling scream,
And I catch a glimpse,
Of the sinister darkness,
So in to the darkness,
I am falling.
Into the darkness,
Death and doom surrounds me,
And I see a pale light above,
Paralyzed in fear,
The treacherous world swallows me,
And as a ghastly hand reaches towards me,
I hear a bloodcurdling scream,
And I catch a glimpse,
Of the sinister darkness,
So in to the darkness,
I am falling.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The Executives and Sacrifices
By Shuke Wang
The clouds loomed over the sky. My view was a blur but the dark evil feeling enclosed me, and I knew that this wasn’t a pleasurable dream.- There, I remember, was a set of railroad tracks leading somewhere far off into mystery. There, stood the queen, in a white fluffy boa, and a dazzling gown which reminded me of a wedding woman. Not a particularly beautiful queen, but she enchanted me in the most unpleasant ways. A deep sag emerged from the rims of her eyes, and a pale face spread the coldness of the day. Looking from the second hand, she was a memorial character; the queen of Narnia. What frightened me the most, however, was that she was there, and I was also there. So was a bunch of children. Like me. And some of them were my friends. I didn’t know how stupid the kids were. They were upset, so I could tell that the queen was preparing something. They somehow obeyed her, and placed their hands on sharp long screws, nailed to the floor, and after a moment of pain and ear-piercing screeches, there was a loud indescribable sound, and they exploded. A lot of them did. The next minute, the queen was looking at me. So I ran. Suddenly, my eyes cleared up like a blue-ray tv, and I saw every detail of the naked eye. It was so dark, so wet, and so cold. Yet, it was so dry, so clear, and yet still blurry. So indescribable! That’s what dreams are like. It was fall, and the leaves were a crisp color. There was now a school, my school, and there was no railroad track. The queen was after me. A stared in a moment of horror, and then dived for the scarecrow. No idea how that got there, but I didn’t care. I saw the angry glare of the queen, and I felt a warm hand in the scarecrow. I couldn’t see a face but I could tell it was one of my friends because the feel was so comfortable. I found a metal grip, and roughly pulling it out from the scarecrow, I immediately started slashing it wildly against the queen. I couldn’t see her, but I felt the intensity of her stare. For a split second, she started slashing too, and a moment later, I heard a deafening BANG, and I dropped on to the floor. For that moment, I felt so comfortable, the warm fall air, breezing against me, and my three friends laughing. I started laughing too, until a look a terror swept over all of out faces. The queen was not so far away, but she was not longer focused on us. How foolish of me, I thought, to think I had defeated the queen. She was not easily defeated. Sadness swept over me, and suddenly, once again, I felt unsafe. Then I saw my little sister, not far away. The queen had not laid a finger on her. Yet. I was not going to take a chance like this. Grabbing her by the hand, and pulled her further away, but not any further away from safety. I was ready to take her with my friends, Two Smirking Alices, and a safe eight-year-old, Lily. Ready to go off into the mountains and climb the misty steeps, to plunge in to icy waters- I’d be risking
“W-what is going to ha-
“Nothing.” I staggered, shaking. Then, holding a firm hand, I gave
I woke up crying.
There are a few things that I’ll probably never know. What would happen, if I followed the railroad tracks? What was I trying to head for? There was no goal in my dream except the deep and irremovable impression to avoid the queen.
Forever.
Friday, June 27, 2008
A Long Time Ago
Dried tears and unknown murders...
“Sasha!” Mrs. Weavermen called from the old broken-down cottage at Reed River. Sasha wiped her muddy hands on her jeans, and carefully dropped a collection of rocks in her pant pockets. “Sasha?” Mrs. Weavermen called again. This time, Sasha’s sister Beverly bounded out from the weedy meadow. Beverlys brown hair coiled against her pale face and tears enclosed her dazzling features. “Sasha Bora!” Mrs. Weavermen called for the last time, and she too, had bounded outside. Mrs. Weavermens biggest daughter Maddy had also rambled out side. The fire had gone out of Maddys eyes. For the first time, Sasha knew, Maddy had felt bad for the girls. Mrs. Weavermen ran over to Beverly and gave her a hug. Sasha was also longing for a hug, but she knew she would look awkward in the moment. It was hard for Sasha, but she knew it was harder for Beverly. Sasha’s mother was a unique person. She seemed to always be there for the girls. Until now. She would never come back.
What was weird, however, was that there was no reason for the girls’ mothers to die. Maybe because it was a coincidence. But in the very place she was born? Sasha never got that far in thought, because she had fallen asleep in the muddy weeds of Reed River.
Cory Jefferson had a big crush on Tyke Bora in middle school. She would draw big red hearts on his yearbook pictures, and send him mysterious love notes. What she didn’t know was that he also had a crush on her. News at the Corner Field School did not spread really quickly, so no one knew that Tyke Bora had liked Cory Jefferson. That was because it was despicable for Tyke to like Cory, or anyone else in the Jefferson family.
Tykes family was on a debit and they were desperate to get the money from the rich Jefferson family. A Jefferson relative had recently died, and sent a total of 1.5 million dollars to this Jefferson family as insurance care. So, on a perfect day at Reed River, Mr. Bora asked Mr. Jefferson to lend him some cash. Mr. Jefferson turned him down. Mr. Bora was extremely displeased, that he sent his sister to Mr. Jefferson to scare him to giving the money. So, Ms. London Bora went to the Jeffersons disguised as a fortune teller, with a bunch of random liquids for ‘the spell”.
“Your family vil have a veery good future, iv you leave ten thousand dollerzz at ze grande oak tree,” She told the family. “But iv you do not follow zeees orders, bad luck, death, and hate will come in possession ov your family. Zis spell cannot be reversed.” She mixed a few random liquids together, not knowing there was such thing as real magic, and sprinkled it on the Jeffersons. They took this as a joke, but placed to the money under the tree. However, they kept a sharp eye on it, and took the money back in a few minutes after placing it near the tree. There was a consequence of doing this, maybe it could be reversed or something, but no one knew. No one knew the spell existed. The Jeffersons lost their money, and their daughter Cory married Tyke, to their dislike.Corys parents died of old age, Cory died at forty-seven, being hit by a car, and all the Jeffersons and Boras started dying. All except Cory Jefferson and Tyke Boras Daughter.
“Sasha!” Mrs. Weavermen called from the old broken-down cottage at Reed River. Sasha wiped her muddy hands on her jeans, and carefully dropped a collection of rocks in her pant pockets. “Sasha?” Mrs. Weavermen called again. This time, Sasha’s sister Beverly bounded out from the weedy meadow. Beverlys brown hair coiled against her pale face and tears enclosed her dazzling features. “Sasha Bora!” Mrs. Weavermen called for the last time, and she too, had bounded outside. Mrs. Weavermens biggest daughter Maddy had also rambled out side. The fire had gone out of Maddys eyes. For the first time, Sasha knew, Maddy had felt bad for the girls. Mrs. Weavermen ran over to Beverly and gave her a hug. Sasha was also longing for a hug, but she knew she would look awkward in the moment. It was hard for Sasha, but she knew it was harder for Beverly. Sasha’s mother was a unique person. She seemed to always be there for the girls. Until now. She would never come back.
What was weird, however, was that there was no reason for the girls’ mothers to die. Maybe because it was a coincidence. But in the very place she was born? Sasha never got that far in thought, because she had fallen asleep in the muddy weeds of Reed River.
Cory Jefferson had a big crush on Tyke Bora in middle school. She would draw big red hearts on his yearbook pictures, and send him mysterious love notes. What she didn’t know was that he also had a crush on her. News at the Corner Field School did not spread really quickly, so no one knew that Tyke Bora had liked Cory Jefferson. That was because it was despicable for Tyke to like Cory, or anyone else in the Jefferson family.
Tykes family was on a debit and they were desperate to get the money from the rich Jefferson family. A Jefferson relative had recently died, and sent a total of 1.5 million dollars to this Jefferson family as insurance care. So, on a perfect day at Reed River, Mr. Bora asked Mr. Jefferson to lend him some cash. Mr. Jefferson turned him down. Mr. Bora was extremely displeased, that he sent his sister to Mr. Jefferson to scare him to giving the money. So, Ms. London Bora went to the Jeffersons disguised as a fortune teller, with a bunch of random liquids for ‘the spell”.
“Your family vil have a veery good future, iv you leave ten thousand dollerzz at ze grande oak tree,” She told the family. “But iv you do not follow zeees orders, bad luck, death, and hate will come in possession ov your family. Zis spell cannot be reversed.” She mixed a few random liquids together, not knowing there was such thing as real magic, and sprinkled it on the Jeffersons. They took this as a joke, but placed to the money under the tree. However, they kept a sharp eye on it, and took the money back in a few minutes after placing it near the tree. There was a consequence of doing this, maybe it could be reversed or something, but no one knew. No one knew the spell existed. The Jeffersons lost their money, and their daughter Cory married Tyke, to their dislike.Corys parents died of old age, Cory died at forty-seven, being hit by a car, and all the Jeffersons and Boras started dying. All except Cory Jefferson and Tyke Boras Daughter.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
One Story Tells Five
This myth as the title suggested, includes five myths explaining the nature of today. It all goes back to the time where ancient Greeks ruled the land. They told legends of immortal people. There was powerful Zeus who shut the titans into the underworld. There was Atlas who held the world up on his shoulder for a punishment, and there was Hades who dreamed to take over the world. Unexplained mysteries are often answered by myths, so bury yourself into this story to find some answers…
Accidentally tilting the world, Atlas gave Hades a chance to release the titans from the underworld. Exposed to risk of being captured by Zeus, Hades made a genuine idea. The titans would hide as shades under mortals. That way, Zeus’ attempts to destroy them would only harm the mortals. Soon, the titans had evaded half the day, and turned it into what we call night.
Fuming, Zeus fiercely fought with his brother Hades until he lost his jawbone. Without it, Zeus would not be able to regain his abilities, and would become mortal. Far away in a cold dark shack lived Mandible and his mortal family. Though Mandible was not immortal, he had a special gift of shape shifting, which no one else could maintain. Mandible had a dull life, because the mortals did not have any light to their lives.
Accidentally tilting the world, Atlas gave Hades a chance to release the titans from the underworld. Exposed to risk of being captured by Zeus, Hades made a genuine idea. The titans would hide as shades under mortals. That way, Zeus’ attempts to destroy them would only harm the mortals. Soon, the titans had evaded half the day, and turned it into what we call night.
Fuming, Zeus fiercely fought with his brother Hades until he lost his jawbone. Without it, Zeus would not be able to regain his abilities, and would become mortal. Far away in a cold dark shack lived Mandible and his mortal family. Though Mandible was not immortal, he had a special gift of shape shifting, which no one else could maintain. Mandible had a dull life, because the mortals did not have any light to their lives.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Funny Stories
Technology Dumb
A technology specialist is examining his profit for the day when the phone rings.
On the other end, one of his customers says, “sir, my cup holder has snapped off my laptop, is there any way you could fix it?”
The technology specialist is puzzled. “What cup holder?” He asks.
“The one that always pops out from the right side of the laptop.”
“Uh… that is where you insert the disk.” the technology specialist says, amused. “As long as you don’t need a disk for anything whatsoever, you’ll do fine.”
After a week, the technology specialist receives a call from the same customer.
“Sir, your menu to put together the computer says to plug a red wire to the keyboard. I went to the music store last night, but they had sold out of keyboards. What do I do now?”
“The keyboard is the board with the alphabet letters on it; you know the one to type on?” Says the specialist, greatly shocked by the customers dumbness. So the customer plugs the red wire to the keyboard and leaves it to his wife and his kids, while he goes to Paris with his laptop.
Two weeks later, the technology specialist receives another call from the same customer.
“I think the keyboard on my laptop isn’t working.” The customer says. I really have to go home now, but when I press home, nothing happens. The technology specialist hangs up the phone and returns to work.
Who’s most powerful?
One day when a doctor, a criminal and a lawyer are together in the elevator, the lawyer takes a look around and says; “I am the most powerful around here. Nobody messes with me.”
The criminal and the doctor disagree, so the three of them have a competition on who is the most powerful. The lawyer summons a suspect to jail. The doctor orders the nurses around and displays a wonderful work of surgery. The criminal smiles and says, look on the news tomorrow.
Today's news
Today, criminal intrudes into the national Canadian bank and forces all citizens to put up their hands and dance around like idiots. What could possibly make this criminal do this?
Welcome to the garden
A woman goes to a garden, and standing on the steps is a man.
“Welcome to the garden!” He says sarcastically, and she goes inside to have a cup of tea. The next day when the woman goes to the garden, the same things happen. On the third day, the woman asks the man,
“Why the heck are you standing in my garden?!!!”
A technology specialist is examining his profit for the day when the phone rings.
On the other end, one of his customers says, “sir, my cup holder has snapped off my laptop, is there any way you could fix it?”
The technology specialist is puzzled. “What cup holder?” He asks.
“The one that always pops out from the right side of the laptop.”
“Uh… that is where you insert the disk.” the technology specialist says, amused. “As long as you don’t need a disk for anything whatsoever, you’ll do fine.”
After a week, the technology specialist receives a call from the same customer.
“Sir, your menu to put together the computer says to plug a red wire to the keyboard. I went to the music store last night, but they had sold out of keyboards. What do I do now?”
“The keyboard is the board with the alphabet letters on it; you know the one to type on?” Says the specialist, greatly shocked by the customers dumbness. So the customer plugs the red wire to the keyboard and leaves it to his wife and his kids, while he goes to Paris with his laptop.
Two weeks later, the technology specialist receives another call from the same customer.
“I think the keyboard on my laptop isn’t working.” The customer says. I really have to go home now, but when I press home, nothing happens. The technology specialist hangs up the phone and returns to work.
Who’s most powerful?
One day when a doctor, a criminal and a lawyer are together in the elevator, the lawyer takes a look around and says; “I am the most powerful around here. Nobody messes with me.”
The criminal and the doctor disagree, so the three of them have a competition on who is the most powerful. The lawyer summons a suspect to jail. The doctor orders the nurses around and displays a wonderful work of surgery. The criminal smiles and says, look on the news tomorrow.
Today's news
Today, criminal intrudes into the national Canadian bank and forces all citizens to put up their hands and dance around like idiots. What could possibly make this criminal do this?
Welcome to the garden
A woman goes to a garden, and standing on the steps is a man.
“Welcome to the garden!” He says sarcastically, and she goes inside to have a cup of tea. The next day when the woman goes to the garden, the same things happen. On the third day, the woman asks the man,
“Why the heck are you standing in my garden?!!!”
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Should Students do homework everyday?
If you had ever conducted a survey, at least ninety-eight percent of the students would say no, to the absence of daily homework. Doing everyday homework is thought to brighten up your students minds, but can conclude to grumpiness, greed, and unhappiness. Both sides to this question have reasonable answers and arguments, and you’ll find out all about two simple answers; yes, or no? Read on, to find out how this can value to such a big issue to children.
A big portion of student’s misbehaviors is probably caused by pressure, perhaps very likely of homework pressure, and the simplest solution is to reduce the amount of homework, maybe even less for pupils who barely complete homework. That would be around/about two to three times of homework a week. That way, the student has constant or in more suitable words, available homework to complete, but doesn’t need to add in extra time off, specifically for homework.
If schools start reducing homework, students will have the time to socialize, and have fun. That consists exercising, talking with friends, and doing the things that value to themselves. This is a very helpful way, because in a while, students will learn to think independently and initiatively about what real values include. With everyday homework, your mind would be too concentrated in work, that it would no longer be independent, working and learning by itself.
Though many schools don’t give everyday homework anymore, teachers and parents still insist that their children/students aren’t getting smart enough. Because of this issue, there are now many learning resources that guarantee a wonderful source of help. But students aren’t going to get anywhere with loads of homework on hand; they have to learn to use their mind to solve problems. I’m not saying that homework is bad, but everyone who rejects to my opinion; there are always two sides in an argument, I just hope that you open up to the truth.
Once again, I would like to strongly restate that homework cannot interfere with a student’s daily schedule; homework was made to review your knowledge, and to keep their responsibility. I greatly ask readers, young or old to consider my thoughts for all the schools in Ontario, to consult people who think different that a student needs to have an own working mind (not made for homework). You have all rights to disagree; both sides are reasonable, and no one needs to cooperate, just keep in mind: Students should not do homework everyday.
A big portion of student’s misbehaviors is probably caused by pressure, perhaps very likely of homework pressure, and the simplest solution is to reduce the amount of homework, maybe even less for pupils who barely complete homework. That would be around/about two to three times of homework a week. That way, the student has constant or in more suitable words, available homework to complete, but doesn’t need to add in extra time off, specifically for homework.
If schools start reducing homework, students will have the time to socialize, and have fun. That consists exercising, talking with friends, and doing the things that value to themselves. This is a very helpful way, because in a while, students will learn to think independently and initiatively about what real values include. With everyday homework, your mind would be too concentrated in work, that it would no longer be independent, working and learning by itself.
Though many schools don’t give everyday homework anymore, teachers and parents still insist that their children/students aren’t getting smart enough. Because of this issue, there are now many learning resources that guarantee a wonderful source of help. But students aren’t going to get anywhere with loads of homework on hand; they have to learn to use their mind to solve problems. I’m not saying that homework is bad, but everyone who rejects to my opinion; there are always two sides in an argument, I just hope that you open up to the truth.
Once again, I would like to strongly restate that homework cannot interfere with a student’s daily schedule; homework was made to review your knowledge, and to keep their responsibility. I greatly ask readers, young or old to consider my thoughts for all the schools in Ontario, to consult people who think different that a student needs to have an own working mind (not made for homework). You have all rights to disagree; both sides are reasonable, and no one needs to cooperate, just keep in mind: Students should not do homework everyday.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Frumbloire Castle
Chapter 1
I should have known that my beautiful black horse ‘Attitude’, was always wiser then me, and that was not exactly the thing I should have really known. The thing that I should have known was not to enter that castle. Attitude was whining and trying to buck me of her back, but I had gripped her reins and calmed her down, though she was reluctant. That’s me I’m talking about. I am Emily Tiffany. My parents had died in a car accident (or at least that’s what they say), and I was to be imported to Frumbloire castle owned by my aunt, known as Queen Tiffany, who had died mysteriously about months ago. The thing I didn’t get was how I was related to the royal-blood family, and how I had ended up getting here. My mother had never talked about my aunt having a place like this, but the minute I walked through the shimmering gates with Attitude, a friendly looking man with a fancy little mustache was out to greet me, his hand outstretched, and his insane smile creeping out at me.
“Hullo, so you are the Emily that Mrs. Tiffany had been talking about?”
“But-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before!”
The man went scarlet, which I had no idea to, of why. “Heavens, umm...I think you should come in because well…I think you know why.” He gritted his teeth (he was trying to make them chatter), and led me inside. “Oh, that horse, I’ll get Bethany- I mean uh…Erica ‘the maid’ to take that horse to the stables, fancy for some breakfast? I myself prefer that I am a good cooker, care to judge?”
I glanced over his shoulder from the entrance, and saw beautiful silky draping hanging for curtains, and glimmering sequences hanging from the crème-beige walls. But what interested me was the painting lined with silver framing; it was a woman. She had intelligent blue eyes, and blond curly hair, tight in a shimmering pony-tail. Her lips were pink and pearly, and next to her was a giant man, shades of gray all over his face, looking very violent. “So is this my mothers sister?” I asked the man.
“Oh, yes and the man next to her is her husband, who is still alive.” He said, wrinkling his nose. “By the way, my name’s Tom Soufflé; call me Chef Soufflé, or Chef Tom. Either one will do.” He opened up the entrance, and led me onto a fancy red table. “Today, Mr. Tiffany or aka Allen Tiffany is inviting his new wife to dinner. You can have a quick breakfast, but I hope you don’t mind staying in your room for the rest of the afternoon, do you?” Having no other choice, I obeyed, but my unhappiness quickly vanished when I saw my dishes: Creamy cheese soufflé, and hot chicken soup, along with little tasty treats, that I had never seen before. My soup which was too hot, had to be left on the table for a while, sadly. I jumped of me red plump chair, and started looking unsurely around the kitchen; I barely knew anyone. As I put a hand on one of the wall decorations, I heard a little click. A tiny hole not much wider than a pinky appeared on the wall, and a tiny egg-holder chucked out at me. It was way too small for and egg, but it was charming. It included a pearl pink enamel egg fit to be in the egg-holder, which was lined with beautiful golden trimmings, carefully engaged. I ran my fingers along the edge of the egg holder, and wondered if this was a priceless treasure I was supposed to inherit after Queen Tiffany. Running up to Chef Tom who was still serving hot trays at the table, I showed him the egg and the egg holder, and suddenly he looked guilty.
“Umm… can I have it?” I asked.
Chef Tom hesitated, and then nodded solemnly. Inspecting the treasure, I also added “Why are there other portraits too?” On the walls were pictures of royal looking people, all looking beautiful and happy, just like Queen Tiffany. “Those are uh… pictures of other queens.” Chef Tom prodded unhappily as if he were in a rush.
“From this castle? I thought my aunt was the only one who lived here before.”
“Oh, she was. These are other famous queens.”
“Never seen them before. By the way, how did my aunt die?”
“Okay, you know what? Here’s the deal. Ask no more questions and I’ll say no more about that tragic…umm…story.” He shot at me, gritting his teeth. Just in time, a loud ringing had echoed through the castle, and Chef Tom went to get the door. I stared after him, and then followed to the main room which was connected with the dining room. I watched as the door opened, and saw a woman dressed in a purple gown step in to the castle. Her black hair was tied into a tight bun; she had dark green eyes and really dark lips. Next to her was what seemed like my aunt’s husband in the portrait, except his eyes looked crueler, and had patches of bruises on his face. Even though he was wearing a heavy scarlet suit, something shone like gold, on his arm. “Okay then.” Chef Tom whispered silently to me. “Your new mum is here.”
The Clue in the Book
Chapter 2
“WHAT?” I shouted again, as chef Tom tried to calm me down.
“Your aunt expected your mother to inherit all this property, but your mother died, and her next will was to your father, but he died too, so it went to you. She was just going to let you live in it, but she died too, so the castle is yours. But that still means that Queen Tiffany’s husband is allowed here, and because you are the princess here, he is the king, which means he’s your father, and his new wife is going to be your mother. Do you get it know?”
“No, I don’t, and there is no way you’ll make me call her ‘mother’, for god sakes.”
“Then be that way, see what happens.” He snorted, as he tromped out of my room. My room was so charming, with tiny doll furniture and light blue walls; it was all enormous. I had no TV or technology, but a lot of books and writing paper. At eight in the night, I sneaked downstairs to catch a glimpse of Queen Gabrielle, as Chef Tom called her. Her hair was now damp and in loses curls, she was prettier, but her husband who was ‘my father’, did not look any better. I tiptoed to a large green plant perched on the glassy marble floor, and hid behind it.
“No, Allen, there should be some other way we could tell her.” Sara Gabrielle was telling her husband. “Besides, other than sign language, do you think writing a note to her would help?” I was confused. What on earth were they talking about?
“No, but I have and idea, and I can’t tell you in front of Emily.” He said coldly, staring right at me. As Sara turned around in her seat, I froze, and closed my eyes. I didn’t notice that my head in bare sight, and my brown auburn long hair, latched all over the floor.
“Hello, Emily. Can I please ask you to come here?” Mrs. Gabrielle asked me dryly. I hesitated, and then stood up. “Now that’s perfect dear, I have something for you, now if you just come to my room.”
I guiltily followed her up, wondering what she was going to do to me. As we passed the second floor corridor, Chef Tom who was going to his room had been eyeing my new ‘parents’, suspiciously.
“Now, now Sarah, don’t you think it’s a bit late?” He asked. “Ms. Tiffany here needs some peaceful sleep. You don’t want her to be too tired tomorrow, when we introduce Kiro. She needs to save up some energy for your playing in the fields.”
Queen Gabrielle which was going to be Queen Tiffany sooner or later looked suddenly offended. “My stepdaughter will not play in those fields.” She replied bitterly. “Unlike you, I know the danger of loosing her. If she weren’t my stepdaughter, I would’ve never let her in, with you for company.”
“Oh, Sarah, when do you ever get me? Remember the rules. Not in front of Emily!” Chef Tom hushed.
“What is everybody talking about?” I asked. “I hate when people say not in front of Emily!” What are the rules, exactly?”
Mr. Tiffany growled at me. Under his black eye was a scar that seemed to be some sort of picture. “Now you girly, you just go to bed now and stay out of it!” He howled at me, his grey metal eyes glaring with anger. I shuddered and quickly ran up to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. So I just laid there on my bed for an hour, before I got up to lazily take a shower and brush my teeth. I was up till midnight reading Harry Potter, until a gentle knock landed on my door.
“Who is it?” I asked moodily.
“It’s Sarah; I’d rather have you call me by my first name.”
“Okay then, ‘Sarah’. What do you want?”
Immediately, the door opened, and Sarah had hushed me outside. I was about to pull back, but a deep instinct held me still, a slithering sensation made me sweep towards her, as I entered her room. The room was not appealing, in fact it was straight darn ugly. The beautiful green wallpaper was shredded down on the floor, revealing a blank stony wall, the bed was all lumpy, and the light was so dim, that I could barely see my step mothers face. She silently slipped an old brown book which probably contained seven-hundred pages in it, and took a furry feather out of a faint-blue box she was holding. She flipped through a few-hundred pages, and tucked the feather carefully in a specific place. I wanted to just walk out on her, but my feet felt like a million pounds. Slowly, the image faded, my eyelids closed, and the next moment, it was morning and the book was still in my hands.
Dear Diary,
Frumbloire seems to be a wonderful place, Chef Blue is an ambitious but kind Chef. Because I’m to be married when I’m sixteen which is my age now, I went through some provocations with the maids. They did not like Allen Tiffany, but he was young, handsome, and humorous. My little sister Amy was with me today, we had lots of fun, picking out my wedding dress, but still, I’m not very sure of the secret in Frumbloire Castle. It was in the library.
R.K
I should have known that my beautiful black horse ‘Attitude’, was always wiser then me, and that was not exactly the thing I should have really known. The thing that I should have known was not to enter that castle. Attitude was whining and trying to buck me of her back, but I had gripped her reins and calmed her down, though she was reluctant. That’s me I’m talking about. I am Emily Tiffany. My parents had died in a car accident (or at least that’s what they say), and I was to be imported to Frumbloire castle owned by my aunt, known as Queen Tiffany, who had died mysteriously about months ago. The thing I didn’t get was how I was related to the royal-blood family, and how I had ended up getting here. My mother had never talked about my aunt having a place like this, but the minute I walked through the shimmering gates with Attitude, a friendly looking man with a fancy little mustache was out to greet me, his hand outstretched, and his insane smile creeping out at me.
“Hullo, so you are the Emily that Mrs. Tiffany had been talking about?”
“But-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before!”
The man went scarlet, which I had no idea to, of why. “Heavens, umm...I think you should come in because well…I think you know why.” He gritted his teeth (he was trying to make them chatter), and led me inside. “Oh, that horse, I’ll get Bethany- I mean uh…Erica ‘the maid’ to take that horse to the stables, fancy for some breakfast? I myself prefer that I am a good cooker, care to judge?”
I glanced over his shoulder from the entrance, and saw beautiful silky draping hanging for curtains, and glimmering sequences hanging from the crème-beige walls. But what interested me was the painting lined with silver framing; it was a woman. She had intelligent blue eyes, and blond curly hair, tight in a shimmering pony-tail. Her lips were pink and pearly, and next to her was a giant man, shades of gray all over his face, looking very violent. “So is this my mothers sister?” I asked the man.
“Oh, yes and the man next to her is her husband, who is still alive.” He said, wrinkling his nose. “By the way, my name’s Tom Soufflé; call me Chef Soufflé, or Chef Tom. Either one will do.” He opened up the entrance, and led me onto a fancy red table. “Today, Mr. Tiffany or aka Allen Tiffany is inviting his new wife to dinner. You can have a quick breakfast, but I hope you don’t mind staying in your room for the rest of the afternoon, do you?” Having no other choice, I obeyed, but my unhappiness quickly vanished when I saw my dishes: Creamy cheese soufflé, and hot chicken soup, along with little tasty treats, that I had never seen before. My soup which was too hot, had to be left on the table for a while, sadly. I jumped of me red plump chair, and started looking unsurely around the kitchen; I barely knew anyone. As I put a hand on one of the wall decorations, I heard a little click. A tiny hole not much wider than a pinky appeared on the wall, and a tiny egg-holder chucked out at me. It was way too small for and egg, but it was charming. It included a pearl pink enamel egg fit to be in the egg-holder, which was lined with beautiful golden trimmings, carefully engaged. I ran my fingers along the edge of the egg holder, and wondered if this was a priceless treasure I was supposed to inherit after Queen Tiffany. Running up to Chef Tom who was still serving hot trays at the table, I showed him the egg and the egg holder, and suddenly he looked guilty.
“Umm… can I have it?” I asked.
Chef Tom hesitated, and then nodded solemnly. Inspecting the treasure, I also added “Why are there other portraits too?” On the walls were pictures of royal looking people, all looking beautiful and happy, just like Queen Tiffany. “Those are uh… pictures of other queens.” Chef Tom prodded unhappily as if he were in a rush.
“From this castle? I thought my aunt was the only one who lived here before.”
“Oh, she was. These are other famous queens.”
“Never seen them before. By the way, how did my aunt die?”
“Okay, you know what? Here’s the deal. Ask no more questions and I’ll say no more about that tragic…umm…story.” He shot at me, gritting his teeth. Just in time, a loud ringing had echoed through the castle, and Chef Tom went to get the door. I stared after him, and then followed to the main room which was connected with the dining room. I watched as the door opened, and saw a woman dressed in a purple gown step in to the castle. Her black hair was tied into a tight bun; she had dark green eyes and really dark lips. Next to her was what seemed like my aunt’s husband in the portrait, except his eyes looked crueler, and had patches of bruises on his face. Even though he was wearing a heavy scarlet suit, something shone like gold, on his arm. “Okay then.” Chef Tom whispered silently to me. “Your new mum is here.”
The Clue in the Book
Chapter 2
“WHAT?” I shouted again, as chef Tom tried to calm me down.
“Your aunt expected your mother to inherit all this property, but your mother died, and her next will was to your father, but he died too, so it went to you. She was just going to let you live in it, but she died too, so the castle is yours. But that still means that Queen Tiffany’s husband is allowed here, and because you are the princess here, he is the king, which means he’s your father, and his new wife is going to be your mother. Do you get it know?”
“No, I don’t, and there is no way you’ll make me call her ‘mother’, for god sakes.”
“Then be that way, see what happens.” He snorted, as he tromped out of my room. My room was so charming, with tiny doll furniture and light blue walls; it was all enormous. I had no TV or technology, but a lot of books and writing paper. At eight in the night, I sneaked downstairs to catch a glimpse of Queen Gabrielle, as Chef Tom called her. Her hair was now damp and in loses curls, she was prettier, but her husband who was ‘my father’, did not look any better. I tiptoed to a large green plant perched on the glassy marble floor, and hid behind it.
“No, Allen, there should be some other way we could tell her.” Sara Gabrielle was telling her husband. “Besides, other than sign language, do you think writing a note to her would help?” I was confused. What on earth were they talking about?
“No, but I have and idea, and I can’t tell you in front of Emily.” He said coldly, staring right at me. As Sara turned around in her seat, I froze, and closed my eyes. I didn’t notice that my head in bare sight, and my brown auburn long hair, latched all over the floor.
“Hello, Emily. Can I please ask you to come here?” Mrs. Gabrielle asked me dryly. I hesitated, and then stood up. “Now that’s perfect dear, I have something for you, now if you just come to my room.”
I guiltily followed her up, wondering what she was going to do to me. As we passed the second floor corridor, Chef Tom who was going to his room had been eyeing my new ‘parents’, suspiciously.
“Now, now Sarah, don’t you think it’s a bit late?” He asked. “Ms. Tiffany here needs some peaceful sleep. You don’t want her to be too tired tomorrow, when we introduce Kiro. She needs to save up some energy for your playing in the fields.”
Queen Gabrielle which was going to be Queen Tiffany sooner or later looked suddenly offended. “My stepdaughter will not play in those fields.” She replied bitterly. “Unlike you, I know the danger of loosing her. If she weren’t my stepdaughter, I would’ve never let her in, with you for company.”
“Oh, Sarah, when do you ever get me? Remember the rules. Not in front of Emily!” Chef Tom hushed.
“What is everybody talking about?” I asked. “I hate when people say not in front of Emily!” What are the rules, exactly?”
Mr. Tiffany growled at me. Under his black eye was a scar that seemed to be some sort of picture. “Now you girly, you just go to bed now and stay out of it!” He howled at me, his grey metal eyes glaring with anger. I shuddered and quickly ran up to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. So I just laid there on my bed for an hour, before I got up to lazily take a shower and brush my teeth. I was up till midnight reading Harry Potter, until a gentle knock landed on my door.
“Who is it?” I asked moodily.
“It’s Sarah; I’d rather have you call me by my first name.”
“Okay then, ‘Sarah’. What do you want?”
Immediately, the door opened, and Sarah had hushed me outside. I was about to pull back, but a deep instinct held me still, a slithering sensation made me sweep towards her, as I entered her room. The room was not appealing, in fact it was straight darn ugly. The beautiful green wallpaper was shredded down on the floor, revealing a blank stony wall, the bed was all lumpy, and the light was so dim, that I could barely see my step mothers face. She silently slipped an old brown book which probably contained seven-hundred pages in it, and took a furry feather out of a faint-blue box she was holding. She flipped through a few-hundred pages, and tucked the feather carefully in a specific place. I wanted to just walk out on her, but my feet felt like a million pounds. Slowly, the image faded, my eyelids closed, and the next moment, it was morning and the book was still in my hands.
Dear Diary,
Frumbloire seems to be a wonderful place, Chef Blue is an ambitious but kind Chef. Because I’m to be married when I’m sixteen which is my age now, I went through some provocations with the maids. They did not like Allen Tiffany, but he was young, handsome, and humorous. My little sister Amy was with me today, we had lots of fun, picking out my wedding dress, but still, I’m not very sure of the secret in Frumbloire Castle. It was in the library.
R.K
Sunday, January 27, 2008
I am Your Boss
“Damn it! Sadie Topers protested as she woke up, one Tuesday morning. Her alarm clock read eight fifteen. How could she have slept so late? Sadie groaned and rolled out of bed. Quickly, she dressed, ate, and started packing for school. Her dog EBay started scratching furiously at the door until it pried open. Immediately, the screen door opened and chilly winter snow swept over the welcome rug. Sadie sighed. She pointed her index finger at EBay and murmured a few magic words, causing EBay to drift in to deep sleep. Sadie’s mother Mrs. Topers, who was working as a spell broker entered the kitchen with a wand in her hand.
“Good morning dear! You’re late for school!” She cooed enthu- siastically.
Sadie sighed. “Mom, why are you up so early? The spell-market isn’t open until nine.”
Her mother giggled. “Well, I’m making pancakes!”
Sadie froze with unhappiness. “Can I stay to have some with you?” She asked hopefully. Her answer was,
“Shoo! Go to school or you’ll get another late slip!”
“Sadie! Whilegate’s was a three-hundred year old witch when she was last seen. How old is she now?” Mrs. Wisdom asked her student during magic class. Sadie struggled to answer the question.
“Umm... she was… uhh… I mean…is….. I think she was-”
“Incorrect! She now is four-hundred-and-twenty-two years old. Listen carefully next time, Sadie.” A few snickers came from the classroom. Sadie sighed. Mrs. Wisdom was now going harder on her, because she knew that Sadie was an official true witch. The magic teacher paced around the class, letting the rest of the students on the easier questions. Finally, it was time for some history magic.
“A really cool kind of power called the ice-sharper is existence in Witch-world,” The teacher explained. “This power can take advantage of all human in the witch society, including regular magicians. It is like a weapon to control people with, but it does not attack or harm. It only forces people obey commands from the owner of the sword. This icicle sword, exposed in the sun can drop droplets of melting acid in to the air, and the air chemicals mix to form a bead. This special high-qualified bead is like a pet, aware and alert to strangers. It is also known as a charm, but only specific colors of these benefiting beads are allowable in our recent battle dome. We will be doing a test about this on Thursday. Before I hand out the study sheet, let me ask everyone; anymore questions?” A chorus of no’s spread through the classroom as Mrs. Wisdom wrote everyone’s homework on the blackboard. The athletic teacher had a bulky hip, shiny short red hair, and sparkling brown eyes, which always bored in to someone.
What if I had one of those beads? Sadie thought intensely. She raised her hand.
“What is it Sadie?”
“Where are those beads usually found?”
“Rarely.”
“But I mean like, where?”
“Usually, they are found in cold places on cement. Class you are now dismissed.” As the teacher walked out of the room, some of the basketball
Players, punks, and geeks decided to remain in the classroom.
Hey Sadie! Wait up!” Meg Connell, Sadie’s best friend called after her. Meg had long blond hair streaked with brown and grey blue eyes, mistier than ever. She was a girly witch who had a rich father. She was wearing a choker necklace and a blue mini-skirt, matching her pink beaded arm bracelets and her light cotton turtleneck.
Sadie turned around. “Hi Meg, what’s up?” She asked. Meg pointed to her feet, showing sporty looking running shoes, stripped with blue, white, and bright pink.
“This is what I mean!” She yipped. “My father got me a credit card yesterday, and I went on a major Christmas shopping spree. Don’t you think they’re pretty?”
Sadie was so green with envy. “There are no shoes in Hazelton that are better than that.” Sadie assured her excited friend. Meg seemed to notice that something was wrong.
“You don’t look very good today, Sadie. No offense.”
Sadie slobbered on to her locker. “I’m okay.” She choked. The truth was that she was not okay. She was filling with miserable greed. If only she could have on of those rare beads, then she would command her teacher Mrs. Wisdom to go easier on her, make her dog stop yapping when she was in a bad mood, to command her mother to not shoo her to school, and maybe to get everything she wanted, just like Meg. The bell rang. Sadie quickly picked up her belongings and hurried of the math. The rest of the school day seemed like years, and finally, Sadie was walking home to school. Meg and Riley caught up with her and started talking. Riley, the principles daughter, had spiky orange hair and a crazy sense of style.
“I heard that Rosemary was going to eat a slug at recess, but then she just shrugged it of, despite the fact that she was going to get fifty dollars if she did.” Riley giggled. Rosemary was the popular girl of the school.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, but hey! Check these out!” Meg lingered, showing off a pair of wooden high heels, the blue ribbon dancing up to her knees.
“Come on, it’s Emily!” Riley shouted, pointing to their brunette-haired friend. Behind Emily were her five friends. The girls then all joined up with a few guys on the basket-ball team and the group headed towards the park. Usually, Sadie was really talkative in the group, but this time, she just stayed in the shadows. It wasn’t until someone asked her to do a cartwheel. She nervously twirled several times before she suddenly stumbled on something cold, hard, and tiny. She groaned, and then held her hand out to inspect. There, she saw an impression of a bead!
“Is she okay?” A voice from the circle asked. Someone answered yes, and someone disagreed.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me!” Sadie assured the murmuring crowd. Meg cut through it and kneeled beside Sadie. “Sadie, what happened back there?” She asked thoughtfully. Sadie was embarrassed of the attention. She pressed her had on to the cold frozen cement- and found her self grabbing a cold wet bead. Mae stared at Sadie. “Sadie, I think you really need some rest.” She stated, motioning for Sadie to leave.
“I know what you mean Meg. I’m going, and that’s good for your sakes!” Sadie whispered angrily, hinting that Meg was too embarrassed to help a friend.
“Good morning dear! You’re late for school!” She cooed enthu- siastically.
Sadie sighed. “Mom, why are you up so early? The spell-market isn’t open until nine.”
Her mother giggled. “Well, I’m making pancakes!”
Sadie froze with unhappiness. “Can I stay to have some with you?” She asked hopefully. Her answer was,
“Shoo! Go to school or you’ll get another late slip!”
“Sadie! Whilegate’s was a three-hundred year old witch when she was last seen. How old is she now?” Mrs. Wisdom asked her student during magic class. Sadie struggled to answer the question.
“Umm... she was… uhh… I mean…is….. I think she was-”
“Incorrect! She now is four-hundred-and-twenty-two years old. Listen carefully next time, Sadie.” A few snickers came from the classroom. Sadie sighed. Mrs. Wisdom was now going harder on her, because she knew that Sadie was an official true witch. The magic teacher paced around the class, letting the rest of the students on the easier questions. Finally, it was time for some history magic.
“A really cool kind of power called the ice-sharper is existence in Witch-world,” The teacher explained. “This power can take advantage of all human in the witch society, including regular magicians. It is like a weapon to control people with, but it does not attack or harm. It only forces people obey commands from the owner of the sword. This icicle sword, exposed in the sun can drop droplets of melting acid in to the air, and the air chemicals mix to form a bead. This special high-qualified bead is like a pet, aware and alert to strangers. It is also known as a charm, but only specific colors of these benefiting beads are allowable in our recent battle dome. We will be doing a test about this on Thursday. Before I hand out the study sheet, let me ask everyone; anymore questions?” A chorus of no’s spread through the classroom as Mrs. Wisdom wrote everyone’s homework on the blackboard. The athletic teacher had a bulky hip, shiny short red hair, and sparkling brown eyes, which always bored in to someone.
What if I had one of those beads? Sadie thought intensely. She raised her hand.
“What is it Sadie?”
“Where are those beads usually found?”
“Rarely.”
“But I mean like, where?”
“Usually, they are found in cold places on cement. Class you are now dismissed.” As the teacher walked out of the room, some of the basketball
Players, punks, and geeks decided to remain in the classroom.
Hey Sadie! Wait up!” Meg Connell, Sadie’s best friend called after her. Meg had long blond hair streaked with brown and grey blue eyes, mistier than ever. She was a girly witch who had a rich father. She was wearing a choker necklace and a blue mini-skirt, matching her pink beaded arm bracelets and her light cotton turtleneck.
Sadie turned around. “Hi Meg, what’s up?” She asked. Meg pointed to her feet, showing sporty looking running shoes, stripped with blue, white, and bright pink.
“This is what I mean!” She yipped. “My father got me a credit card yesterday, and I went on a major Christmas shopping spree. Don’t you think they’re pretty?”
Sadie was so green with envy. “There are no shoes in Hazelton that are better than that.” Sadie assured her excited friend. Meg seemed to notice that something was wrong.
“You don’t look very good today, Sadie. No offense.”
Sadie slobbered on to her locker. “I’m okay.” She choked. The truth was that she was not okay. She was filling with miserable greed. If only she could have on of those rare beads, then she would command her teacher Mrs. Wisdom to go easier on her, make her dog stop yapping when she was in a bad mood, to command her mother to not shoo her to school, and maybe to get everything she wanted, just like Meg. The bell rang. Sadie quickly picked up her belongings and hurried of the math. The rest of the school day seemed like years, and finally, Sadie was walking home to school. Meg and Riley caught up with her and started talking. Riley, the principles daughter, had spiky orange hair and a crazy sense of style.
“I heard that Rosemary was going to eat a slug at recess, but then she just shrugged it of, despite the fact that she was going to get fifty dollars if she did.” Riley giggled. Rosemary was the popular girl of the school.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, but hey! Check these out!” Meg lingered, showing off a pair of wooden high heels, the blue ribbon dancing up to her knees.
“Come on, it’s Emily!” Riley shouted, pointing to their brunette-haired friend. Behind Emily were her five friends. The girls then all joined up with a few guys on the basket-ball team and the group headed towards the park. Usually, Sadie was really talkative in the group, but this time, she just stayed in the shadows. It wasn’t until someone asked her to do a cartwheel. She nervously twirled several times before she suddenly stumbled on something cold, hard, and tiny. She groaned, and then held her hand out to inspect. There, she saw an impression of a bead!
“Is she okay?” A voice from the circle asked. Someone answered yes, and someone disagreed.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me!” Sadie assured the murmuring crowd. Meg cut through it and kneeled beside Sadie. “Sadie, what happened back there?” She asked thoughtfully. Sadie was embarrassed of the attention. She pressed her had on to the cold frozen cement- and found her self grabbing a cold wet bead. Mae stared at Sadie. “Sadie, I think you really need some rest.” She stated, motioning for Sadie to leave.
“I know what you mean Meg. I’m going, and that’s good for your sakes!” Sadie whispered angrily, hinting that Meg was too embarrassed to help a friend.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Stories Untold
By Shuke Wang
So yeah, you can say I was kind of stupid picking up that box on the sidewalk. And they called me nice and good for doing everything. The box that changed me, my life, and my thoughts for my uncle’s life, and lots of more lives. So there, I was just walking down the street when I saw a glimmer on the sidewalk. Oh my god I thought, thinking it was gold. I quickly stumbled over the mossy path towards the shimmering object. To my disappointment, it was a white soapy rock in the middle of a dark pile of rich soil. I sighed but then, I saw another white rock and then another. That’s odd, I thought anxiously.
“I can’t believe it!” I muttered as I followed a track of white stones till I went to a stop.
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