Jake's+Writing

media type="custom" key="238613" October 11, 2007__**
 * __Warm Up Writing #1

Headlights, that's all I remember. Okay, maybe I remember a bit more. I was wandering the woods, humming a merry melody. I trotted by a campsite, and I saw as though two fleshy creatures, wearing putrid green cloth. Apparently, they were trying to kindle a fire. I found this odd, as their senses should have known a fierce rain was dawning. Still, I galloped across the meadow. Eventually, I came across a paved path. By now, it was night, but I could feel the spongey pebbles beneath me. Then, I saw a flash of light. I attempted to yield, but to no avail. I was hit, and was knocked out. When I awoke, I was lying on a black and yellow path. The creature that stunned me must have left me to die. I felt as though I had a bend in my spine, so I cried out for help. A nearby squirrel answered my plea, and brought me some food. After about a week, I was back on my feet. I asked the squirrel how to repay her. "You know that thing that hit you?" she inquired. "I remember what it looked like, but I didn't recognize it." "Well, they're called 'cars,' and they're trouble," she replied. "Tell me more," I said. "Well, they lure you in with their flashing 'headlights,' then ram you over." "That's awful! How do we stop them!?" I cried. "It would take a lot of work. They're tough demons." "I can do it!" "Very well. I shall be your trainer, and together, we can defeat the metal monsters!"

October 31, 2007__**
 * __Warm up Writing #2

Bobbie sat in his room, pondering what to write. "The writing contest is in two days, and I've got nothing!" she mumbled, frustrated. Bobbie had been a writer since birth. Even as a child, she had always had a knack for writing. By the age of three, he had already written a stroy about a boy getting new shoes, a parody of "Jack and Jill," and a biography of a puppy named Charles. Now, twelve years later, she had nothing. "How hard can it be to write a simple ghost story! I need that new computer!" Bobbie was dumbfounded the first time she had read the flier. 'Win a new computer! Just write a scary story by Halloween Night, and bring it to 1313 Deadwood Drive for a midnight reading. Best story wins!' "Hm... What if... no... or if there was a... no. Wait... I GOT IT!" she exclaimed. Relieved, she printed out the story. It was 11:30, just enough time to get to 1313 Deadwood Drive. Her mom was skeptical, but she agreed to drive her. After thanking her, Bobbie headed inside the moaning old house. Inside, she was surprised to see a group of kids, no more than five years old, sitting in anticipation. "We want a story. Can you tell us one?" said a little girl dressed as a monster. "Make it scary!" demanded a little werewolf. "Okay... here goes..." remarked Bobbie, and she started her story. By the end of the story, the children stood there in awe. "Did that really happen?" inquired a little Frankenstein. "Yes," Bobbie answered, "It's all true." "Cool! I wanna be a zombie!" cried the werewolf. Then, right before Bobbie's eyes, the little boys costume morphed into a rotting corpse. "Me, too!" cried the monster girl. All around Bobbie, these little kids began to change. Their innocent little eyes lost all life, and their soft skin turned brown and rotting. "What... What are you?" demanded Bobbie. "We are the night," said the girl who was previousl a monster, "and you will play with us..." "Forever!" cried all the children at once. Looking around, Bobbie saw a door, slightly ajar. She sprinted for it, but was blocked by a wall of rotting flesh. "If you leave us..." began the girl standing in front of her. "Then we will die." said another zombie from behind him. "You wouldn't want that? WOULD YOU?" stated the little werewolf, putting a kind of demonic emphasis on the last words. Bobbie didn't care. She just wanted to get the hell out of there! All of the children began pulling on her, and she could feel her vey sould being drained from her. "I'm sorry, kids, but I have to go!" she said. Finally, she reached the knob and turned it. "Noooo!" shouted one of the zombies, but it was too late. She was already on the other side of the door. Bobbie slammed the door shut, thankful to bring that chapter of her life to a close.


 * The River and Me**

Every teenager seems to crave the same thing. Excitement. However, several years ago I got enough excitement to satiate the desire for quite a while. My mother always told me about her old friend, Scott, the white water river guide. I had never really been intrigued by the escapades of my mother in her youth, but I did find rapids interesting. So, one day, we all piled into the car and drove off to go white water rafting. After a bit of motherly nostalgia, we dawned our vests and met our guide. I don’t remember her name, but I assume it was knocked out of my head with a bucket of water. You see, every time we would even mention the heat, she would fill up a bucket with river water and heave a wave of water on us. It was cooling at first, but then got annoying. After a mostly class one and a few class two rapids, we neared the semi-legendary “Bull Falls,” a mini-waterfall which had become famous many years ago by another name. A much less school appropriate name. I was prepared for major excitement. Unfortunately, I got a little too excited. I loosened my hold on the handgrips, and was sent flying into the watery abyss. I don’t actually remember falling in. It was more like an out of body experience. I was watching myself from below the water, rocking helplessly back and forth. Then, I slipped into semi-consciousness, but I was awake enough to remember a grip on my ankle. The next thing I knew, I was back in the raft, coughing with a sore ankle. As it turned out, our river guide saved me. I recall very little directly after that, except that my shoe was lost in the rapids. Oddly enough, a few minutes later, it came floating down the river, and the guide grabbed it. After that, aside from my discomfort, everything went fine. Fear gave me an excuse not to paddle, so I just held on out of fear. I began to feel much better by the time we reached a small cove for a swim. By the time we hit the sore, I was almost as good as new. Overall, it was a very interesting experience, and I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I’m glad I went, as it was a fun and maturing experience. On the other hand, I now have one more fear to cope with. If it weren’t for the river guide, I could have walked away with more than a few bruises and a swollen ankle.