Monday, March 26, 2007

Adriana/short story

Lake Tahoe

It was our first family trip in two years. We were getting ready to go to one of our favorite vacations spots, Lake Tahoe. My family and I were packing everything, from warm heavy winter jackets, to snow chains for the car; we were prepared for any situation. I was fairly excited to go, especially because my dad promised to take me to Heavenly Mountain, a ski resort I have always wanted to go on. Although it was a mere eight hour drive, I would do anything to go back up there.
Four hours passed and we were still in Los Angeles, hitting heavy traffic, what’s new? Six hours pass and we were out of the traffic in the middle of nowhere. All I remember was seeing a cow plantation, and smelling the horrid stench of manure. The trip was going as planned so far. I was playing Tetris on my gameboy sp, my sisters watching movies on our portable TV, my mom fast asleep, and my dad going at least one hundred miles per hour on a two lane freeway.
As I look out the window I start seeing beautiful trees covered in snow. I could not believe my eyes. It was beautiful! I knew that we were close to our condo. It was even snowing from where we were. All I thought of was the powder that was going to be on the slopes at the ski resort. Even though everything seemed perfect, the stormy weather ahead looked a little suspicious.
Tow hours later we were stuck in a blizzard. The snow and fog were coming down heavily. It was so bad we couldn’t see at least a couple feet in front of us. I suggested that we put on the chains for our car, but of course, my parents were too lazy to step out of the car and experience the extremely cold weather ahead of them. With no chains and heavy snow falling, our car began to slide side to side on the road. Finally my parents decided to do the right thing and put the chains on.
My parents both sprinted out of the car to the trunk to get the chains. I looked out the window and I couldn’t even see them. While searching for their existence, all I heard was silence.

Adriana/ story

Lake Tahoe

It was our first family trip in two years. We were getting ready to go to one of our favorite vacations spots, Lake Tahoe. My family and I were packing everything, from warm heavy winter jackets, to snow chains for the car; we were prepared for any situation. I was fairly excited to go, especially because my dad promised to take me to Heavenly Mountain, a ski resort I have always wanted to go on. Although it was a mere eight hour drive, I would do anything to go back up there.
Four hours passed and we were still in Los Angeles, hitting heavy traffic, what’s new? Six hours pass and we were out of the traffic in the middle of nowhere. All I remember was seeing a cow plantation, and smelling the horrid stench of manure. The trip was going as planned so far. I was playing Tetris on my gameboy sp, my sisters watching movies on our portable TV, my mom fast asleep, and my dad going at least one hundred miles per hour on a two lane freeway.
As I look out the window I start seeing beautiful trees covered in snow. I could not believe my eyes. It was beautiful! I knew that we were close to our condo. It was even snowing from where we were. All I thought of was the powder that was going to be on the slopes at the ski resort. Even though everything seemed perfect, the stormy weather ahead looked a little suspicious.
Tow hours later we were stuck in a blizzard. The snow and fog were coming down heavily. It was so bad we couldn’t see at least a couple feet in front of us. I suggested that we put on the chains for our car, but of course, my parents were too lazy to step out of the car and experience the extremely cold weather ahead of them. With no chains and heavy snow falling, our car began to slide side to side on the road. Finally my parents decided to do the right thing and put the chains on.
My parents both sprinted out of the car to the trunk to get the chains. I looked out the window and I couldn’t even see them. While searching for their existence, all I heard was silence.

Conrad Short Story

Over the course of last year and over the summer, a foreign exchange student named Vinny came and enrolled at High Tech High International. Vinny was Brazilian and would always talk about Brazil and the girls and most of all soccer. Soccer was the main sport in Vinny’s home town Rio De Janeiro. He was also very funny and as soon as he came, he started hanging out with Colin, Michael and Sean; members of the High Tech High baseball team. In doing so, Vinny became convinced that he should play. He would later tryout and make the High Tech High JV team. Vinny knew as well as everyone else that soccer was his sport; not baseball.

But Vinny was quite the character. He would come to games out of uniform, late, and with something to eat; a cardinal rule in baseball. But when it came to game time, Vinny would try his hardest. For most of the year he would play left field. There were many times when a ball would be hit to Vinny and he would freeze up; totally stiff and the ball would go right past him. I think Vinny just thought too much but trying to take every ball on a bounce; never charging. But Vinney was even worse at the plate.

Vinny, in my opinion, thought too much at the plate as well. He had an awkward swing; always lunging for the ball and not waiting for the ball to come to him. His approach was swing at the first pitch, watch the second and swing at the third. His style of play was very unorthodox as well as he but none the less, Vinny always tried hard.

Dario's Short Story

So there I was, in the middle of a trench, somewhere in Belgium. I looked towards my feet and saw bloody, dismembered body parts all around me. I looked up across the field in front of me and saw rotting bodies and rusted weaponry. The faint sounds of machine gun fire and artilerry launches sounded in my head. I could not tell if these sounds wer real or if they were just implanted in my head forever.

I awoke to my commanding officer yelling "Let's go, boys! We're movin' out!" I got up to move, realizing I had hardly moved in weeks. As I took my first steps out of the trench, I felt a searing pain in my feet. I remembered Davis telling me about trenchfoot a few months back, when we first landed in Belgium. He said when you sit in trenches for weeks, then try to run, the outer layers of skin on the bottoms of your feet will rip off in big chunks. I wasn't sure if this was what I was experiencing, but it felt like hell.

As we ran through the trenches to make a line against the Germans, I found Davis in the ranks of soldiers.

"Trenchfoot! Is this what I'm feeling?", I yelled.

"Probably.", he replied.

We came to our destination, a line of sandbags behind our enemy. I was sitting down, my back to the wall of sandbags, a rifle in my hand. I pushed myself up and turned around, looking for a target for my crosshairs. Bullets clanged off a metal pole several feet away from me. More bullets whizzed by me head. I ducked down, heart pounding in my throat. I did not have time to be scared. I turned 'round once again to fire, and the recoil from the gun slammed against my shoulder. I looked out to see where my own bullets had gone, and was surprised to see that I was looking up at a plain, white ceiling. Apparently, I had dreamed it all. I was back at home, in Delaware. The date was June 18, 1920. World War I was over. It was all over. I wasn't in Belgium. I was in Delaware..

Chris Nho Short Story

Aaron grew up in the Korean countryside, surrounded not by buildings but by barren fields. The absence of an urbanized culture led Aaron to a very unique outlook on life that many would consider heinous. He simply did not care about his future. There was no hope of escaping his beloved home and no hope of staying in it. This, however, was not meant to be confused with apathy. Aaron was in fact very dedicated to his imagination. He would spend hours dreaming up characters: friends, heroes, enemies, pets. The lack of unique terrain forced Aaron to dream up landscapes that covered the gamut of towering castles to bottomless oceans. Characters would come and go, but there was one person who Aaron became such good friends with that he swore his friend was real.
Andrew was a boy, the same age as Aaron and he looked like a hodgepodge of every person Aaron had ever met. Bits and pieces of his family, friends, even strangers composed Andrew’s features. Aaron and Andrew played games that Aaron thought up of himself. One day they were valiant knights shouting out warcries, the next they were emperors dividing up their country.
It was a hot summer day, Aaron and Andrew were both fondling the grass around them underneath the shade of a tree, when Andrew asked a question.
"Hey Aaron, I've been over to your house plenty of times, but you've never come to mine." Aaron was struck by the question, "Wow, I never even thought of that before, actually, I'm not even sure if you have a house."
"Well whatdya say, let's go!", replied Andrew.
So the two trekked off, Aaron following Andrew like shepard and sheep. Finally they arrived at a pile of rubbish. Aaron was unimpressed.
"All this walking... for this?" He exclaimed as he pointed towards the trash.
Andrew beamed as he said, "Dig in."
He set off to work, first building the walls. Metal sheets, long abandonded and rusted with time, became walls for his room. Leaves became garnish for his hallways. After five long hours of work, the two had managed to create a four walled structure. But that was only what it seemed like to the naive. Once given a closer examination, the walls turned to painted murals, matching the skill of DaVinci and Michaelangelo. The rooms were filled with toys, beverages, and all sorts of tinketries. These four walls were a child's haven; nothing surrounded them but their imagination.

Short Story

Once upon a time, there was a boy that lived near the ocean that was guarded by a large cliff. At these cliffs, you could climb down to the water and surf the waves that broke on the rocky shore. The boy saw surfing as a sport that looked fun and bad ass all at the same time. The boy's Dad grew up at these cliffs and surfed as much as he could there, so he decided to teach his son how to surf at the cliffs. The father took the boy down to his favorite spot along the cliffs called No Surf. They both climbed down the sandy cliff with their boards to the beach, and then paddled out towards the waves. It was later in the evening and the sun was setting. That day was very calm, with light winds and small waves. The boy and his Father made it out in the line up and waited for the perfect wave. When it came, the boy turned around and paddled as hard as he could. When he caught the wave, the boy stood up and rode that sucka all the way in. The boy was totally stoked and was dancing around on the beach. The boys dad and other surfers in the line up cheered for the boy, and the boy was very happy. The boys Father paddled in and congratulated the boy on his first wave. Surfing was now a part of the boy's life, and it will always be, for surfing is like a strong drug. Once you try it and figure it out, you cant stop.

Hang Loose.

the end

Megan-Short Story

In a small town just outside of Kwellen lived the little old lady who made the most beautiful flower arrangements. I was from a poor family with little to our name so I'd only been to an engagement worthy of her flowers just once. It was at a celebration that my father was invited to, and the flowers were all I could remember. First there was a vase, of clear crystal glass mixed with a milky sky blue. It was short and round with a gaping neck that ran around the edge like a collar. And out from the blue vase came a shower of flowers, all complimenting each other with perfect feng shui that was not only pleasing to the eye, but pleasing to the temperament. It was like those Van Gogh paintings I had seen in my art books; a mix of color and randomness that painted a bigger picture. In these flowers, I saw lilies and buttercups, forget-me-nots and chrysanthemums (all of which I had too look up in the gardening book I begged my father to buy that day). Yet from a far, I saw the ocean. I saw movement and I saw shadows and I saw emotion in those flowers. I was only seven, but I knew what I wanted to do.

That book my father bought me was like a bible to me. I practically took it wherever I went, though thinking back, I'm almost embarrassed of my obsession. Wherever I traveled, I saw the scenery and nothing more. It took me two months to have that book nearly memorized. Yet though my heart was set, it took a lot of courage to convince my father to buy me another. In the busy streets and urban life of China, it is hard to find vegetation that is more than a weed, but I knew my way around that city and it wasn't long before I had started my own garden from seeds I had secretly collected from around the village. At first, they were just flowers and leaves, nothing of interest to my sometimes ignorant father. It only took one little green squash to make him realize the value of my gardening skills. After he tasted my little squash, he bought me my second book on plant life.

Now, as the head scientific botanist of the Shao Lin University, I look back in wonder of the curious girl I used to be. Whenever my job becomes tedious, I think of the little old lady and I think of the pure excitement I felt when first viewing that flower arrangement. I never met the woman who lived near Kwellen, I'm sure she must have passed away by now, but I'll never forget the impact her flowers have made on me. Whether she knew it or not, though I like to imagine she did, she has changed lives with her flowers. That is what I'd like to do with my work, though I know I most likely never will. I suppose that's the ever constant battle of living as a scientist and living as an artist but never both. Yet her flower arrangement kept me going and I don't think I will ever forget how I felt like the ocean from looking at those flowers. And just as I saw shadows of emotions in those flowers, the little old lady shadows my own thoughts, an ever-present reminder of why I truly love what I do.

Jameela's Short Story

A very long time ago there was a girl named Jordan. Jordan was a teenager, the type of person that someone would typically call stuck up. In her eyes, she loved everyone and just wanted to fit it. She rocked the latest and new the latest. She enjoyed spoken word and arguing, however no one knew this side of her. She was only known as Jordan, the most popular girl at school, who never wore the same outfit twice and who was rich.
She never really realized how fake she was until after her car accident when she realized how short life is. The car accident was during her last semester of her senior year. She attended Roosevelt high in New York. She was coming out of her last period and noticed the bulletin board and saw the words “APPLY TO COLLEGE”. Her entire senior year she didn’t even think about college. She barely knew the process and the benefits of attending college. The reason for this was because her mom and all her friends told her that she wasn’t going to college but she was too marry Josh Carter.
Josh Carter was her boyfriend. He attended Roosevelt High 2 years ago. He currently went to New York State and was soon to be drafted by the hornets. He was also known as the MPG, most popular guy at school.
After the accident and her senior year she finally realized this was not the life she wanted and realized that a lot of high school students are like that. She took all this opinion and thoughts of high school life that she was so upset and decided to start a high school speak program to inform students on college and life.

short story - jason

Once upon a time, there was a boy who could fly. He liked to fly like no other, the birds couldn't enjoy life as much as he did. He would never show off and he never considered himself better than anyone because of his ability. One day, he met a girl who also could fly. He decided that he wanted to impress this girl. He showed off how fast he was and how high he could go. He bragged about how much better he was from everyone else. While he was doing all of this, a boy who could not fly started feeling jealous and envious. As the boy grew jealous, the flying boy started losing his flying ability. In mid-air, the boy fell to the ground and died instantly.

Dan's Short Story

Tesal was sad. He felt like running, and running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. But as he knew very well, he couldn't run from his problems; he had to face them.

And so, after some thought, he stood up from his couch and started toward his car. The beat to "Together" by The Raconteurs was playing in his head.
"You and me, forever,
We belong, together."

It resonated behind the eyes and deep in the chest. He had to see her; he had to talk to her.

And so he jumped into his car and tore off down the road. It was almost feverish now, the feeling in his heart. He opened up the throttle and accelerated.

"Your friends have thrown a kink in the single life,
You've had too much think, now you need a wife,"

was playing in the background, but he didn't hear.

And as he shot around the final curve to where Aedral's house was, he missed the other car coming the other way.


Tesal died in the emergency room 6 hours later. He put up a terrific fight, but was unable to sustain the blood loss. He died without telling Aedral that he loved her, without telling her that he couldn't stand being without her.And now the world is a less happy place

Madison's short story

Finding Home
Growing up in Ireland is difficult. I am a son to poverty along with my father, mother, two brothers, and three sisters. We have very little. We live in a shack of a house and eat scraps that we called meals. Everyday our lives become more challenging. There is no money, no work, and no food. I know I have to leave.
Being the eldest of my siblings, I was always looked up to. My parents expected a lot from me. I was the one who needed to take care of my family, especially my ill father. Everyday after school, I would try to find work in our small town to buy food for supper. Every night I came home to my suffering family.
Throughout my life I heard people talk about this magical place called America. It was said to have food, shelter and work for all. It was said that anyone can have success in America. As I watched my family become more depressed and less able, I knew I needed to bring them to America.
One night after everyone was asleep, I lay awake pondering. I tried to figure out how much it would take to get my family and me to America. Eventually I decided on a plan. I would go there first on my own, get a job and find a place to stay and then return to Ireland for my family. I would leave my responsibilities to Patrick, my younger brother. My other siblings are old enough to help as well. It seemed perfect; I was going to save my family. From that night forward I saved every last penny I earned for America. I worked instead of going to school. I kept all of my plans to myself until I could finally leave.
After months of work I was ready. I told my family I was off to America. At first they seemed hesitant, but after they realized that our family could not survive in these conditions much longer, I was able to set off to America.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Shayna-Story

What happened to me on March 22.


Once upon a time there was a girl who did not get enough sleep. Because she was so tired, she had coffee in the morning but it did not perk her up very much. She went through the entire day half asleep; listening to trials, talking to friends, even driving in her car.

This girl had to go to internship on a boring Thursday afternoon and since she was practically asleep, she decided to go get coffee at Starbucks. So she went in an ordered a coffee frappaccino light but the barista informed her that they were out of the light. She got frustrated and decided she still needed coffee so she got a cappuccino. She drank it even though she burned her tongue and it gave her energy. So at internship, she was having a good day and talking to her mentors and having fun. At four o' clock, the girl's mentor said she was ready to do the coffee talk. The girl knew it was called a coffee talk but she did not think that her mentor would actually want to go get coffee. So, they drove to a nearby Starbucks and went to order. They both wanted the same thing, a mocha frappaccino light. But, to her surprise, a different Starbucks was again out of the light base! Both the mentor and the girl looked at each other and did not know what to do but they eventually decided to get a regular one. So, the girl interviewed her mentor and they had a fun time talking about work, boys, the gym and food. After the interview was over, the girl went home.

On her drive home, the girl was feeling unusually hyper. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she had had three caffeinated drinks that day, one with chocolate on it! That was not good because she knew she would not be able to sleep. When the girl got home, she had all this useless energy so she decided to go to the gym. As she was getting ready, she was running up and down the stairs, forgetting her shorts upstairs and her shoes downstairs. She was singing and jumping and running, never walking, singing “I’m not gonna get sleep tonight…I’m not gonna get sleep tonight!” The girl suddenly stopped as she was filling a water bottle. She knew she was weird but she never thought she was that weird. Then she thought to herself, oh well, and continued singing.

She worked really hard at the gym, running really hard to try to burn off some energy, but it did not really work.

When she got back from the gym, she worked until about ten o’clock finishing her honors essay. She worked and worked, typing and talking really fast because of her three caffeinated drinks. When she was done, she watched Grey’s Anatomy and was really into it. When it was over, she was not tired AT ALL! By that time it was about eleven, late for her on a school night. She was hyper, talkative and did not want to go to sleep. She kept talking and talking about pointless stuff and her dad kept listening with full interest.

It was midnight, the girl knew she had to get up in six hours and fifteen minutes to go to school but she still could not go to sleep. However, she made herself get in bed. Once lying down, the girl just laid there, doing nothing, for a long time, because she could not fall asleep. She knew she would regret this in the morning.

Eventually she fell asleep. The alarm actually woke her up in the morning, something that normally does not happen; usually she wakes up a few minutes before it goes off. Anyways, she wakes up and wants to go back to sleep. But she can't. She has to take a shower. She was right though, she regrets going to bed late. She is so tired now so what does she do? She has more coffee.

Wes -> "short" story

This is my story, its kinda long but its a true story:


As a boy scout I have been to summer camp several times. One camp that I’ve been to is Emerald Bay on Catalina Island. Most camps usually last a week or so and you do a variety of activities each day like shooting, swimming, etc. I wanted to do sailing which was supposed to be pretty fun. Every afternoon, me and three other boys would go sailing around the bay. This was fun and we just cruised around. As we prepared to go out on the third day, we had little idea of what was in store for us. We always got everything we needed prepared before for we went out on the water. I was getting life jackets, and the other kids were getting the sails rigged. There were three boats, the S.S. Minnow, the Turtle, and the Blow me………Wind. As you could probably tell from the names of these boats, none of them were particularly awe inspiring. We had decided to take the Turtle since we thought it was the best of the three. The counselor who was in our boat was a young blond kid, probably 17 or 18. I remember asking him if we needed a radio and he said no. We finally got our boat in the water and started heading out of the bay.

About the same time we got out of the bay, the weather started to change for the worse. The sky quickly darkened and wind picked up. The scenery started to resemble that of “a Perfect Storm” We didn’t seem to notice at first, but soon the wind was howling and waves got bigger. We started racing along, the wind whipping through our hair and the smell of the sea everywhere. We were all yelling and cursing and laughing. It was really exhilarating. The boat would be in the air for seconds as we launched over waves. In order to keep the boat stable, me and my friend were leaning way off the port side of the boat. At one point the boat was almost completely horizontal. This was really cool, until we flipped.

It was then our boat took up its name, and turtled. At we this point we were all laughing and cursing in the water. We grabbed hold of the boat and decided what to do next. I gave my glasses to the counselor, and tried to help them flip the boat over. Being inexperienced with sailing, we had trouble flipping it over again, because it was our first time. We tried several times, and after a few minutes I was laughing hysterically. To this day I am still not quite sure why holding onto a turtled boat a mile off shore was funny, but anyways we managed to flip the boat back over.

Under most circumstances, this would have been ok. But being the inexperienced sailors that we were, it wasn’t. We had forgotten one very important thing, to unrig the sails. When we flipped the boat back over, the sails were taut and the boat promptly took off dragging two kids and the counselor, who were holding on to the boat at the time. I had apparently forgotten one of the most important rules, don't let go of the boat.

So, there I was; sitting in the ocean without my glasses watching my comrades get carried off by a runaway sailboat. I was floating there with the fifth kid laughing. After about ten minutes though, the reality sank in that they wouldn’t be able to get back to me easily because they would have to fight against the wind. I decided that I would start swimming towards camp (or what I thought was camp). The other kid thought he would be better off floating there. A half hour in the water I was getting nervous. I knew that nobody would notice I was gone for a couple of hours, the other boat would have a hell of a time trying to get us, and I couple possibly drown. Despite being not very religious, I started praying. I was reminded of the famous quote “there are no atheists in foxholes”.

Meanwhile, the other boat was facing rough times too. While three people would usually be enough to sail the boat, one kid was curled up on the floor (scared shitless) repeating “we’re all gonna die” over and over again. So it was up to the two to sail the boat back to rescue us. They had a hard time keeping track of us, as we were small dots bobbing up and down and were unlucky enough to get blue life jackets. What kind of idiotic company manufactures blue life jackets anyways?

After about 45 minutes in the water, swimming and praying, I saw a boat. Sure it was the Turtle I started yelling/cursing at them to come pick me up. As they approached I realized that it wasn’t the Turtle and quickly started praying that in fact that had not heard me. When they got closer they asked if I needed help and picked me up. Luckily they had not heard any of my angry rant. They brought to me to their camp, which was a mile or so below Emerald Bay. There they contacted my camp and alerted them of the situation. At that point I must have been either really calm or in shock, because all I said was “can I get a towel and where’s the bathroom?” The kid who decided not to swim got hypothermia but was eventually picked up. By that evening I was finally reunited with all my friends and from then on we always took a radio when we went sailing.