StudentWriting_B4_15

Transcription

Mirror Magic By Hannah
Angelina felt as though the devil started controlling the
neighborhood children and made them not want to play with her during
this beautiful weather. She felt as though a gate separated her from
happiness and led her to misery. She felt as though she was captured in a
paper bag that led her to boredom, nothing going on in her mind except
for terribly horrid thoughts about the children playing outside without her
– thoughts that are too horrible to tell you. So guess what she did? She
dreamt her day away.
The dream wasn’t that nice either but it wasn’t as bad as her
thoughts. She dreamt of one day sprouting out of her small five-year old
self and blooming way up into the fluffy white clouds that tickled her
nose. Then she stepped on all the children who didn’t welcome her into
their games. If they ran away she would reach out her longs arms and
grab them, shaking them up and down, throwing them up into the air
and catching them just before they hit the hard sidewalk.
Her dream ended when she heard her mother call from the
kitchen to brush her hair. Angelina tossed and turned, moaned and
groaned and finally rolled off her comfortable couch. Her knotted golden
hair lay spread out on the white carpet. She felt as tired as a baby
cuddled up in their mother’s arms in the middle of the night, and she felt
as heavy as an elephant sinking in sixty feet of deep water. So she
pushed and pulled herself to roll over again and again towards the
wooden stairs to get to the bathroom.
Yawning heavily, she pulled herself up the stairs. At the top she lay
down and rested, practically falling asleep again until she felt a wet
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-1 Hannah’s final story
©2006 by Lucy Calkins and Kathy Collins from Units of Study for Teaching Writing, Grades 3–5
(Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann) This page may be reproduced for classroom use only.
glob drop onto her face, which could only mean an Emimay alert!
Emimay was Angelina’s pet lab. She was as brown as a chocolate bar,
and as friendly as when your best friend in the whole world smiles and
waves at you.
Angelina quickly wiped the glob from her face away with her palm,
and now with some energy she shooed Emimay off and walked into the
bathroom. Her bathroom had tiled walls that were turquoise with white
stripes and her bathtub had little paws to hold it up that always made
her laugh when she was younger.
Angelina looked at herself in the mirror for a few seconds. She not
only saw herself but the reflection of the kids that were playing outside.
That was enough for her, she practically bounced off the walls. She
jumped up and down again and again and then ran to the sink and
banged her head on the white porcelain.
“What are you doing up there?” screamed her mother, who was
confused and worried about Angelina. She lifted her face from the sink.
Her head was a little red but otherwise no harm was done. “Nothing
mother” she said, “I’m fine.” Then she looked down to see if the sink
was okay and to her surprise instead of the white porcelain, she saw
something that looked like whipped cream! She dipped her finger into
the soft cream and put that finger into her mouth. In that second her
face turned pea green and she spit it out of her mouth onto the mirror.
She looked as the slimy white cream that had trickled down and thought
that it tasted like something she had eaten before when she was
younger, not knowing what it was.
“That’s it!” she cried out loudly. “It tastes like my father’s shaving
cream, he must have left it out!” Her face looked even greener as she
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-2 Hannah’s final story, page 2
remembered. Staring at the cream intently, she realized the it looked like
an eyeball and made another eyeball next to it.
Her grandmother was visiting and she had put all of her make-up
neatly around the sink. Angelina dipped her finger into one of her
tanning creams that had bumpy lumps in it and she flung it at the
mirror to make a messy nose. Now she needed a mouth. She used a red
make-up pencil to trace her mouth onto the mirror. This delighted
Angelina so that she also traced her eyebrows with the pencil even
though they weren’t red. The make-up that really caught her eye was a
glittering gold body spray bottle that was the exact color of her gold
shimmering hair. She gripped the bottle nice and tight and sprayed all
around the eyes, nose and mouth. Now all she needed was to color in
the eyeballs. She found a bluish bottle that glistened on the shaving
cream. The best part of it was that it smelled like blueberries.
There staring back at Angelina was her masterpiece of all
masterpieces that enchanted her heart. It had changed her boring day
into a fabulous day. “Angelina” she heard he mother call. “Dinnertime,
hurry, the landlord will be coming soon.” Angelina glanced one last time
at the picture in the mirror before she needed to go down to dinner and
then gleefully skipped down the stairs.
She smiled thoughout dinner eating all her veggies and slowly
savoring her dessert. But her smile turned around when the doorbell
rang and the landlord walked in. He hated them. He thought they were
slobs and didn’t like their sense of humor. Angelina and her family didn’t
care for him either.
His tie was purple, resting on his green shirt. His thick eyebrows
were neatly combed but Angelina couldn’t be 100% sure because the
hair on his head was resting down on them, just about covering his
green as grass eyes. He had a habit of fiddling his fat fingers, which
bothered Angelina.
“So how’s my baby doing?” he said as he patted a table to his
left. “Fine” said Angelina’s father, Tony. “Was I talking to you?”
questioned the landlord as Tony turned around and grumbled under his
breath. That basically kept happening between the two as they walked
throughout the first floor.
Walking up to the second floor, Angelina felt as bored as she had
in the morning but then she remembered her masterpiece in the
bathroom. They were all heading in that direction when she stopped
and decided to wait in case she was going to be in trouble. She heard
her mother gasp and the landlord exclaim, “wonderful!” Her dad never
liked anything the landlord liked, so as he was about to say “ugh”
instead he said, “It is wonderful.” They looked at each other, slapped
each other’s backs with a loud “thud” and chuckled, as they walked
down the steps to have dessert together.
Angelina sat down at the table looking at her half eaten dessert
of cherry pie and whipped cream listening to her father and the landlord
chatter away gleefully.
“I guess my artwork brings people together”, she said proudly.
Then she frowned and said “Now I need to make something for my
mother and the neighbors.” She quickly gulped down her dessert and
took out some paper, glue, string and a few markers.
Angelina’s day had definitely changed.
Superficial
Niki and Chloe walked into school. Kids were slamming
lockers and papers were thrown everywhere. Suddenly, there
was a smell so great it could make the flowers pop up. The
smell traveled through the halls, past the lockers and over
the garbage that was everywhere. It was fruity passion
Herbal Essence. Niki looked. Soft blonde hair was swaying in
the distance. There was only one thing it could be . . .
Samantha Stillman.
Niki pulled on Chloe’s arm. “C’mon, Chloe.” They moved
behind the lockers.
“What?” Chloe asked, still looking down the hall at
Samantha.
“I don’t want her to see me. She’s probably going to make
fun of my clothes again.” Niki lifted her backpack shaking with
fear. “I hate her!” Niki glared.
“She’s not that—“ Chloe stopped herself mid-sentence and
looked at Niki.
“Don’t tell me you were going to say that she’s not that
bad. She’s terrible!” Niki wanted to scream out, but she didn’t
want anyone to see her behind the lockers.
“Hey!” a voice said. Niki’s heart beat out of her chest. She
looked up to see Samantha Stillman standing in front of her.
Niki opened her eyes wide and looked straight up at
Samantha. “What do you want?” she asked shaking. It
seemed like the walls were closing in on her. She wanted to
walk behind the lockers, turn and run the other way, but she
didn’t.
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-5 Beccah’s final story
“I just wanted to see your new, I mean, your clothes from
the back of the closet,” Samantha said laughing. Niki stared at
her hard. Chloe looked at the floor. “C’mon, Chloe. We have
class,” Niki said. But Chloe just stood there. Niki wanted pull
Chloe away and run down the hall. But she did nothing.
“I have a question for you, Chloe,” Samantha said gritting
her teeth at Niki. “Why are you friends with her?” Samantha
motioned with her chin in Niki’s direction.
“Because,” Chloe said proudly. Niki gave her a nudge.
Samantha stared. Chloe’s face turned red. “She, um, well, I
don’t know. I mean—” Niki wanted to crawl away.
“I mean, like she has the worst taste in clothes, right?”
Samantha said cutting Chloe off.
“Yes. I mean no. I mean I don’t know!” Chloe whined. Niki
turned away. She didn’t get it. She and Chloe had made a
pact—Best Friends Forever.
Sorry, Niki,” Chloe whispered.
“Chloe,” Niki said, turning around and wiping the tears
from her face. But it was too late.
“Let’s go,” Samantha said. They all stood in the hallway
looking at each other. Doors were opening and closing as kids
went to class. Samantha pulled Chloe by the shirt and together
they followed the rush of other kids.
The doors shut behind them as they walked off to class. Niki
stood alone and wondered if it was worth being class president.
I should have known after beating her last year in the election.
If you mess with Samantha Stillman, she’ll mess with you.
Niki started to walk to class, not sure which way to turn
now that she was all alone.
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-6 Beccah’s final story, page 2
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-7 Hannah’s final story
Spencer Bellhorn is not a Wimp by Caleb
Fifteen minutes had past and I was tired of
watching the charcoal-black squirrel run up and down
the big oak tree that shaded Kolben St. from the
bright morning sun.
Where was Sarah? Had she forgotten? No, Kolben
St. had been our meeting spot for the past three
years. She’s probably sick, I reassured myself.”Yeah,” I
mumbled,”sick.” and set off to school.
“How’s it going?” yelled Mr. Crabapple from his
porch.
“Great!” I lied.
Then Mr. C smiled a smile I wish I could smile. But I
couldn't. I could only manage a frail grin; like the one
you see from a sick grandmother. I bit my lip until I
couldn't feel it anymore. My eyes twitched side to
side like a nervous squirrel. I closed my eyes and
repetitively muttered, “Sarah’s with me, Sarah’s with
me, Sarah’s with me.” trying to convince myself she
really was . I walked past every house like in it was a
man with a knife.
That day elm trees leading to the playground of the
Mario Gabinetto School seemed bigger, but then
again, so did everything.
“Auggghhh!” screamed a voice as something
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-10 Caleb’s final story
collided with my chest. Then all I felt was the hard
playground concrete against my cheek.
“Sorry.” I apologized as I stood up and brushed
myself off.
Watch where you're goin’!” growled a voice that I
thought I had heard before. All at once I realized I
what I had bumped into.It was Humphrey Dugbill, the
meanest bully in the history of Butts, Missouri.
I absent-mindedly tried to walk away so that the
oversized predator wouldn’t prey on me. My puny
frame is no match for his bulgingm one. I wanted to
shrink and shrink till he couldn't see me anymore.
Well, well, well if it isn’t Spencer Bellhorn! About to
get beat up and without your girlfriend to protect
you!” he emphasized the word girl a lot.
“Any last words?”he asked smugly. What was I
going to do? Where was Sarah when I needed her?
Right on time the ‘Bading-A Dinga-Ding” of the
9:00 bell filled the air. “Saved by the bell, Bellhorn I’ll
see you after school!” Humphrey yelled over the
crowd of screaming kids.
I couldn’t pay attention to Mr. Jimenz in math class
because I was thinking of a plan, a plan to defend
myself against Humphrey. Could I run away like all
the other kids had done? No, I would have to stick
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-11 Caleb’s final story, page 2
up to him. Then I a thought crossed my mind.
Humphrey had never actually punched someone, he
had just threatened to! So why should I be afraid? It
was a risk, But also, it was the only way.
I stood in the playground of the Mario Gabinetto
School to await my fate. If my plan worked, I would
never need Sarah to defend me again. If it didn’t, I
would.
“Spencer?!!” growled a voice behind me, “I
thought you would run away like all the other wimps.
Oh well, all the better for me!” I didn’t have to turn
around to know who it was.
“Whatever, Humphrey.” I said calmly. Kids of all
shapes and sizes gathered to watch. I could hear a
“Yeah Humphrey” chant starting in the crowd.
Humphrey braced himself. With his fist up and the
grimace on his face he looked like a heavy weight
boxer. I didn't pose like him. I just stood there, arms
folded, and a grin on my face. He picked up his fist
and pointed his elbow towards the clouds behind
him.
Sarah's definitely not my girlfriend!!!!!!!
This is gonna work!” I thought and grinned.
His fist shot forward. The grin faded from my face.
I felt like Roger Clemens had thrown a fastball at
my face. My head hit the ground. I lowered my hand
to my upper-lip. I lifted it back up. I saw red.
Humphrey and the other kids smirked. Their smirk
turned into a giggle and they started to walk away
like I wasn’t really there. I needed help, couldn’t they
see that. They just left me, in the dirt, like I wasn’t
there.
I wanted to cry, I really did.
Then I remembered Humphrey's words; ‘I thought
you would run away like all the other wimps’ I didn't
run away! I wasn’t a wimp. Even though I was
standing there with a bloody nose, I felt like I had
won. It was then that I realized that everyone at one
point in his or her lives needs to be protected. Even
the mighty Roger Clemens has bodyguards, and he
isn’t a wimp, I’m not a wimp.
Spencer Bellhorn is not a wimp.
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-14 Francesca’s final story
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-15 Francesca’s final story, page 2
Writing Fiction: Big Dreams, Tall Ambitions, Fig. XV-16 Francesca’s final story, page 3

StudentWriting_B4_15

Transcription

Similar documents

street map - Portsmouth

16-0221 CUs Care Pineywoods Chapter.pub

Front - Frederic Delarue

Welcome to 15 Baycliffe Drive - Spotlight

Groupe Sutton - Excellence Inc. Brochure - 5475 BOUL

Promineo product overview

here

Lucy Lu | Lounge Seating

Angelina Ballerina - Kew School of Dance

¡Bailamos!