The Story of "E"

Emily bounced into the classroom, waving to her mom as she drove away. Emily put her things away into her cubby and hanging up her coat. She took out her binder and pencil pouch and sat down at her desk, her mind ready to work. Madeline, Emily, Justin and the teacher were the only ones there. Emily loved when she got to school early.

Just then, a group of kids from one of the buses walked in, laughing and talking the whole time.
“Quiet, class! Please come in more calmly next time.” said Miss Ingham sternly. The class muted immediately. Miss Ingham went over to the white board to write out the day’s schedule:

Schedule

1. Math: Adding Fractions
2. Reading: Analyzing “Hamlet”
3. Report Card discussion/ receive
4. Lunch/Recess
5. Science: Unit Test-Chemical Reactions
6. Social Studies: Imperial China project
7. Dismissal

       Emily gasped at number three on the list. She always got nervous on report card day, even though she always got good grades.  She would start sweating, and her teeth would chatter like she had the flu. She would then start shivering and playing with her pencil or fingers. She would claim that she was fine. This would go on all day until she found out her grades. Then she would be fine.
Her mom tried everything to stop this phobia. She sent her to a calming yoga class. It didn't work. She sent her to an expensive doctor. It didn’t work. They even tried therapy, but it didn’t work. Emily was going to have to live with it.
      The class started math. It was too easy for Emily. But Emily’s teeth chattered through the lesson and she wiped sweat from her forehead. During reading, Emily answered every question on her work sheet without a second thought. But she shivered and tangled up her fingers all the while. Luckily, Miss Ingham was kind and aware of her phobia, so Emily could get up and wash her face, get a drink of water, or put on her coat without having to ask the teacher.
Soon it was time to pass out the report cards. Emily got hers first. She opened the envelope quickly and looked at her grades. Straight A’s for everything. Emily sighed happily, put the paper back in the envelope, and tucked it inside her binder.
At lunch, everybody was talking about their grades. Emily noticed that nobody got E’s. She asked her friend Kara if she knew anything about it. Kara knew everything.
“Well Emily, there is a story about it. I heard it from my grandma last year. Do you want to hear it?” asked Kara. Emily nodded eagerly.
“‘Kay then. Prepare to be amazed!” announced Kara to an imaginary audience. Emily inched closer.
“A long, long time ago, there was a teacher that taught a wonderfully behaved third grade class. All the parents of the children said that she was a very good teacher and recommended her to others. But nobody’s perfect. This teacher in particular was very lazy and hated grading papers. She usually didn’t grade many papers.
There was a little boy named Tommy in this teacher’s class. Tommy loved to play video games. He always got good grades and he had promised his parents that if he ever got lower than a B, he would give up playing video games for a week. He was that confident.
One day, Tommy finished a very easy assignment and turned it in to the teacher. When she finished grading the papers and writing the grades down in her notes, the teacher found that Tommy was the only one that got an A. She wanted to very much write “excellent” on his paper, but she was too lazy. Instead she wrote “E” on the front and “A” on the back, thinking that Tommy’s parents would know what she was talking about.
When Tommy got his paper back, he gasped at his grade. He couldn't believe he had gotten an E! The rest of the day he was too dumbstruck to even speak. He barely ate his lunch. When he got home, he solemnly showed the grade to his parents and they sent him to his room to eat dinner there. They were very disappointed in him.
Tommy usually played video games after doing his homework. It was a part of his daily routine. That day he never got to. The next day, Tommy felt sick and stayed home. He gazed longingly at the T.V and controller he very much desired. That night, Tommy couldn't sleep. He needed to play video games so very badly.
Tommy called in sick the next day too. He itched all over to play his games. Then he started itching for real and came up with a fever. His mother gave him medicine but it didn’t work. Tommy had a different type of fever. Video game fever.
The next day, Tommy clenched his fists and became very stiff. He started pulling at his hair like in the cartoons.  His mother wanted him to forfeit and play his video games, but he refused. He had made a promise.
The day after that, Tommy ran around the house screaming his head off. He didn’t even glance at the controller once. When his mother tried to restrain him, he growled and struggled like a rabid dog on a leash. He also started shivering uncontrollably and curled up on his bed. When his mother approached him, he started hitting his head on the wall. All because of a stupid promise.
Tommy’s parents went to see his teacher. They left him at home, tied to his bed post. He couldn't even come out in public. His parents discussed the matter with his teacher and when they learned what his real grade was, they contacted the principal. When he didn’t believe the tale, they issued a town meeting and the mayor understood. He banned “E” immediately. Tommy’s story was then becoming famous. In a few weeks, it had gone viral. Most of the nations banned “E” too. Soon, the whole world knew what trouble “E” could cause. Tommy was sent to a therapist and he returned back to normal. The end” Kara finished the story. Emily didn’t believe the story, but she thought it was pretty scary, even scarier than her own phobia. She told Kara it was bizarre and decided that it was a good Halloween story.

The Great Snowflake Race

“Woo- hoo!”  yelled Daisy Snow. When she heard that she and her family were going to the carnival she got really excited. She had never been to a carnival before, but from the stories she heard that they’re lots of fun. From all the information she gathered up about them, she understood this: carnivals have games, food and rides of all sorts. And it didn’t cost a thing (Except for the food.) She couldn’t wait.

Daisy was a natural cowgirl that loved animals and school. She always wanted to try new things too. She was 12 years old and had chocolate colored hair. She also had an older brother, Mitchell, who Daisy adored. Daisy’s parents owned a farm that grew just about anything they could get ahold of. They also had a market where they sold what they grew. She was very happy. But there was one thing that held her back from being completely happy. Mitchell was in high school and wanted to graduate to college and become a lawyer. He had a lot of recommendations to go, but their parents didn’t have quite enough money to give him the education he wanted. He would have to go for the regular program.

“When are we goin’ to the carnival y’all?” Daisy asked her family.

“October 2^nd, Daisy sweetie,” replied her mom.

“Yay! That’s ma’ birthday! And it’s only three days away!” squealed Daisy. Eager and energized, she seized a brochure for the carnival and leapt to her bedroom to make a list of all the things she was going to do at the carnival.

 The next day, she showed her family her list. This is what it looked like:

My List of

Things I want to do at the Carnival

1.  Play some games – Win lots of prizes!

2.  Eat popcorn, cotton candy, ice cream, and other delicious stuff

3.  Ride every ride that is cool + daring! (I’m up for a challenge!)

4.  Have lots of fun!!

5.  Anything else I could possibly do at all at the amazing carnival!

  Daisy’s family agreed that it was a good plan to use at the carnival, for Mitchell’s plan said “Go to the carnival, and then come back after having fun.” It was a very meager plan. For the next two days, Daisy read the brochure over and over again each day until she had them all memorized. She looked over her plan a gazillion times every day and begged her dad to go get her more brochures about the carnival. Daisy drew pictures of the carnival at school when the teacher was teaching math. She read the brochure during reading time and not her book. Her plan was crinkly from all the reading by the time the carnival came.

The night before the carnival, Daisy went crazy. She was running around with excitement like she was having 20 sugar rushes at once. Nothing blocked her way, and Mitchell was sure Daisy broke at least five vases that night. Daisy could hardly sleep until her dad gave her sleep medicine.

 The next day Daisy woke up before anyone else, despite the sleep medicine she had. She woke everyone up and after washing up, she made everyone their favorite breakfast and sandwiches for lunch that day.

At 9 o’clock they all strolled out the door into the breezy fall air. It was refreshing and cool. They walked to the bus stop and waited for their bus, but they only have to wait for five minutes. The bus dropped them off at the field where Daisy and her family had picnics often. It was usually vacant but today there were millions of tents and it was swarming with people and aromas. Daisy couldn’t wait to begin.

She started off with a darts game with her dad while her mom and Mitchell went to see a comedy play done by professionals. Daisy won the dart game, went off to play Ring Toss and won a giant, downy rainbow pillow. She also played lots of other games. Then she and her dad met up with the others and they all ate lunch while watching a dog show. Thankfully, none of the dogs came up to them to beg for food.

After lunch and the dog show, the Snows decided to skip the rides since it would upset their stomachs and took a walk around the carnival to see every game there was. There were games like Ring the Bull, Go Fishin’ and Wooden Nickel Toss. Mitchell thought that Go Fishin’ was a baby game because all you had to do was insert your “fishing pole” in to a hole and then remove it to receive your prize.

Suddenly, as they walked by what seemed like another regular game booth, they heard the person say that the prize was $5,000. If they won this, they could have enough money to give Mitchell the education he wanted! They rushed up to the counter and listened to the person for what he had to say.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in this game, you will be cutting out snowflakes as fast as you can for the mayor, because he wants his home decorated with them in time for Christmas Eve. He is willing to pay $5,000 to the one that creates the most snowflakes. You will be given the folded paper and scissors, but the rest is up to you. It is... The Great Snowflake Race!” The person exclaimed in his engaging voice.

Daisy knew she had to win this. She could make anything out of paper; even the most challenging paper crane was as easy as pie to make for her. The rest of her family tried to copy her, but they never succeeded. It was just Daisy’s talent. This would be real easy for her since they already folded the papers for the contestants.

She strode up to the counter and sat in one of the stools and picked up her pair of scissors. She wasn’t nervous until the person announced that they had ten minutes to make as many snowflakes as they could. Daisy became anxious, but there was no backing out now.

She took off her coat, suddenly feeling sweaty and hot. Daisy wasn’t used to being put under pressure; it was her only weakness that she had ever acquired. A stack of maybe 50 folded sheets were hastily put in front of Daisy’s eyes. Daisy prayed to God that she would win the competition, and then placed her hand on the top of the pile, ready to grab the first piece of paper when the race started.

“You can do this, sis,’’ Daisy looked behind her to see Mitchell looking at her with reassuring eyes. Mitchell could make anyone feel better with just his eyes, which was why Daisy loved him so much dearly. It was the main reason she wanted to help him.

“Wish me luck,” whispered Daisy and hugged him like he was going to war. She let go of him and listened to the person for the countdown to The Great Snowflake Race.

To My Readers

Sorry to bother you,
I just wanted to say that I will usually post one story every other day, due to my lack of time to write many stories. After all, don't get disappointed at this news. If you truly want good stories, then it will take me at least two weeks to perfect a short story. You must be patient with me if you want awesome stories.
Thank You.
Janani

One Lucky Girl

Sylvia Bellerose opened her eyes to the first beam of sunlight.

            “Aaaaaah, “she said as she breathed in the fresh morning air.

            “Today is going to be the BEST DAY EVER!” she cried. Sylvia leaped out of bed, washed up, put on her frock, and then bounded down the stairs.

            There she found her brother, Theodore, eating French toast. Her mother was busying herself in the kitchen by making sandwiches and cookies for later.

            “Hi mom! I can’t wait to go to the World’s Fair this evening! Can you?” asked Sylvia.

            “Of course not dear! I mean, not too many people get this chance, the chance of a lifetime! That’s why you should be grateful and kind to all of the vendors there, okay?” Sylvia’s mother replied.

            Sylvia ate her breakfast, and then went upstairs to get ready for the fair. She thought about that evening and what was going to happen.

It was 1889 and Sylvia was 15 years old, in her first year of high school. She lived in Paris, home to the Eiffel Tower. Sylvia had begged for weeks to go to the World’s Fair, and just as it seemed that there was no hope, her parents agreed when they found that all their friends were going and didn’t want to look like outcasts. Sylvia was overjoyed, as she heard that there was a dancing contest and she had always wanted to show off her talent, but she never got a chance.

            Sylvia snapped back to reality, paused to look at the clock, and realized it was time to go. She had on her best pink blouse and skirt, shiny red dancing shoes and a matching, glittery purse. Her brown hair was put up into a nice, high, ponytail with sparkling peachblow barrettes. Sylvia thought she looked gorgeous.

            Next thing she knew, she was climbing out of a coach into the warm, breezy evening. The fair was breathtaking. Blinking lights surrounded her, people of all the world were there, and the night was filled with all kinds of sounds- the sound of popcorn bursting, the sound of laughter and loudspeakers, and the sound of honey being poured. There were so many sights to see and foods to eat. Sylvia’s senses became alert; her nose was filled with wonders, eyes waiting to take in the colors, tongue ready to burst with flavor, ears already hearing sounds, and fingers willing to feel the textures of things she was going to see, hear, taste and smell.

            After buying the tickets, Sylvia ran up ahead of her family and immediately went to find the dance floor. When she saw it she knew it. The entire thing was just a large piece of polished wood. Light reflected into prisms made it look like a miniature rainbow. To Sylvia’s right was a large base for the judges to stand on. There was a large sign that said “Out to Supper- Competition starts at 7:30 p.m.”

            Sylvia glanced at her watch. It was 7:15, so she had 15 minutes of free time. She looked around and realized this part of the fair was set up in the maguey field she had picnics in. Then she had an idea. She picked up as many flowers as she could, and then placed them near the audience bleachers, hoping that they would throw them at her after her performance.

             Just as she arranged the last handful, she saw who she supposed were the judges; and right she was. They were sharply dressed with flowing gowns and tuxedos with, undoubtedly a ton of make-up; even the men! The judges climbed on to the base and made announcement that the contest was about to begin. People rushed into the tent, contestants and audience alike.

 The first round was Gavotte dancing. Sylvia easily accomplished this with two other winners. The next round was ballet. Sylvia won this round also, so she was up against a bulky but fit man. The last round was freestyle with lively Farandole music. Sylvia danced like it was the last time she would be able to. After the song was done the audience cheered and threw flowers like she had expected. The judges decided the winner and said

“And the winner is… Sylvia Bellerose!”

Sylvia leaped into a round of emotions; at first she was stunned, then confused, then exited, then happy, then proud. She jumped up on to the stage and received her trophy and prize with honor and pride. The bulky man looked like he was about to explode, but he just stormed off the dance floor without taking the second prize instead.

Sylvia ran to find her family and proudly showed them the trophy and the prize, which was a free trip anywhere she wanted to go.  Theodore got jealous, so Sylvia bought him popcorn and waffles covered with rich honey. Sylvia’s mother bought her glossy majolica in her favorite colors- peachblow and turquoise. Her father bought her ice cream- in a waffle! The ice cream vendor had run out of cups right before Sylvia’s turn, so the waffle vendor next door had an idea to do that. It was the most exquisite thing she had ever seen!

Sylvia and her family wasailed on the Ferris Wheel as their father told them stories of the Basque people that have homomorphism and populate France and Spain. Their mother told them of the River Wateree in South Carolina, where she grew up and how she had met their father, an attendant on a boat that was passing by. They laughed and sang, ate popcorn and cotton candy and played games. Finally they laid down their blanket and sat in the field to watch fireworks of different colors pop and bloom in the sky.

 Sylvia leaned against her father, only to find that she was about to fall off a cliff that had dangerously sharp rocks – no, waffles below! Sylvia screamed and looked around frantically. To her right was a rope made out of broken majolica that could easily pierce somebody badly. Sylvia said no to that. To her left was an ice cream sundae, which, obviously, would give no help. Suddenly, the cliff gave way and Sylvia fell and fell and fell. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She kept falling and falling until she fell on the squishy waffles below and passed out.

           

1 Week Later…

            “Oh... oooh...” moaned Sylvia. She looked around and found herself looking at her family while lying on a white bed that smelled really good. Her family seemed exited, so Sylvia asked them.

            “Whash de big deel, Teodhore?” Sylvia’s voice came out funny and weird. Theodore looked at her and told her the entire story.

            Apparently, the guy that Sylvia won over in the dancing contest got really mad and intentionally put a drug into Sylvia’s ice cream she got at the fair when she wasn’t looking. The drug wasn’t harmful, but when she got drowsy and sleepy, it caused her to sleepwalk and have really weird dreams. Unfortunately, the big bulky man was a Basque, a people that are known for their amazing dancing skills and their arrogance. To be a better dancer and look proud in front of them means that you are threat to their people. And this particular Basque didn’t want to harm Sylvia; he wanted to put an end to her life.

 After Sylvia dozed off during the fireworks and sleepwalked away unnoticed, the bulky man had found and led her to the top of the Eiffel Tower to push her off. Luckily, Sylvia’s family noticed she was gone, spotted her at the top of the tower and called the police. Also, the drug had gotten a little weaker, so Sylvia had gotten some of her sense back and realized she was going to fall somewhere, but she didn’t know exactly what was going on. The bulky man had sensed this and pushed her off the Eiffel Tower. As if right on cue, the police had a large, thick blanket positioned under the tower that Sylvia could fall in to it and not get injured.

Straight away Sylvia was rushed to the emergency room and the bulky Basque man was arrested. Sylvia was given a sleeping pill so she would feel groggy when she woke up instead of fresh so she wouldn’t do something harmful.

Well, that explains my voice, Sylvia thought.

The doctor came into the room and everybody looked at him, then Sylvia.

            “Ho-ho- This is a miracle! You should be rejoicing right now, not standing around smiling!” exclaimed the doctor. He came up to Sylvia and hugged her so tight that she thought she might die then. He released her and said

“Sylvia, you are truly a very lucky girl.”

Well, Sylvia thought, I got to go to the World’s Fair, won a dancing competition, had the first ever ice cream in a waffle, escaped a guy that wanted me to die, and survived a fall from the Eiffel tower that could have killed me. Can you get any luckier?

To My Readers

Hi,
I hope you like my stories so far. I write many different types of stories, from complete fantasy to realistic fiction. You can comment on what you like and don't like. I would like some prompts so I can write stories my readers want to read, so don't hesitate to suggest topics! I also love reading your comments! Thank you for reading my first two posts, and they are a couple of my favorites. Get ready for more!
Thank You
Janani

Mr.Johnson and Savanna

               When he woke up, Mr. Johnson almost cried out in joy. It was a Sunday! That meant no errands to run because the shops were closed. But it was a very special Sunday. Mr. Johnson was going to have a day with his granddaughter, Savanna, who was 11 years old. Her dad was going to drop her off, then she was all his. Mr. Johnson, who was 74 years old, hadn’t seen Savanna since she was six. He was very excited about it.

          Mr. Johnson hobbled out of bed and took a bath and brushed his teeth quickly. Then he went to the kitchen and made scrambled eggs and toast. Just then he saw the red hovercraft appear in his driveway. It was Savanna! Mr. Johnson hurried outside to greet them and when Savanna stepped out, he gasped. Savanna had golden brown hair, like a freshly baked loaf of bread. She was wearing it in a ponytail and her face looked like she had just come out of a beauty salon. She was tall and had strong legs and arms, a born athlete. She looked so different than the last time he saw her!

          “Oh, Savanna! You’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you! And you look like the girl version of Michael Jordan! Such a pretty face! You are so much like your mother...” Mr. Johnson droned on and on about how Savanna looked like. Savanna looked down bashfully.

          “Dad! Dad! Dad, you can stop now!” cried Savanna’s dad impatiently to Mr. Johnson.

          “Oh, sorry Quinn. Savanna, dear, why don’t you come inside? I made your favorite- scrambled eggs and toast!” said Mr. Johnson to Savanna. Savanna’s face lit up and she said   “Thanks Grandpa! You’re the best. Bye dad! See you tonight!” Quinn disappeared into the hovercraft and whizzed away quickly.

          “Well, Savanna, it’s just you and me now, I guess,” said Mr. Johnson

          “I guess so too,” mumbled Savanna, her mouth full of eggs and toast.

          “So what would you like to do first Savanna?” asked Mr. Johnson.

          “Well, I really wanted to go to the library today. Can we go there now?” inquired Savanna. Mr. Johnson thought it was a good idea, so he agreed that first they would go to the library, go out for Mongolian food for lunch, and then spend the rest of the day looking through various shops at the mall.

          Mr. Johnson and Savanna headed outside and decided to take the scooter instead of the hovercraft to the library because it was so nice out. They both climbed on to the scooter, Mr. Johnson put in the address for the library and off they went. They passed by the high school, which had an electric sign that was hard not to look at. It said at that moment:

Sunday, June 25, 2275

•  Come to our annual magic show and fireworks next week on Tuesday, July 4, 2275 to celebrate our country’s independence!
•  Enrollment in to high school starts in August, 9th graders!
•  Have a good summer!

Then it flashed away to different news and Mr. Johnson sped away on the scooter. They reached the library and stepped inside. The air was cool and refreshing. It was nearly empty, only a few kids checking out books and a couple of old women gossiping in the magazine section. The librarian was busily putting back returned books. Mr. Johnson and Savanna slipped past the librarian and the old women, strode over to a little couch for two, and plopped down. They talked quietly a bit, and then set out to find a book.

          Mr. Johnson suggested many books, but Savanna turned them down. Finally, Savanna found a little corner with some old books and took out a great big volume which had in bold letters Harry Potter written on it. She and Mr. Johnson settled down in the couch and opened the book to the first chapter.

          “Oh, my gosh,” breathed Savanna. The page was covered with beautiful drawings of lions, serpents, eagles and badgers. There were also strange names like Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. It also said Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus. Mr. Johnson was astounded by the penmanship.

          They turned to the next page eagerly to read and find out more. The book was evidently old and very dusty, so they had to restrain from coughing. As soon as they finished the 6^th chapter, Mr. Johnson felt a sort of sucking sensation on his hand and face. He rubbed his hands together hoping it would disappear, but it just got stronger. Savanna also started doing that also.

 Suddenly, within a blink of an eye, both Johnsons were not on the couch anymore, but sitting in a hot cellar full of strange equipment. There were brooms, sticks and scrolls all over the place.

“Grandpa, where are we? I don’t think this is the library,” said a nervous Savanna.

“It’s okay Savanna. We’ll get out of here in no time,” replied Mr. Johnson, wanting to calm Savanna. They climbed out of the cellar and found themselves in the cold snow. They found snow shovels and cleared out a path to walk in. Somebody had left behind snow jackets, so they pulled them on, instantly feeling warmer.

“Hello there,” said somebody with an English accent. Mr. Johnson and Savanna whirled around to find themselves face to face with 3 teenagers, all looking about 13 years old. There was one girl and two boys.

“My name’s Harry Potter and these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger,” one boy said and motioned to the other two companions.

“Who are you?” Ron Weasley asked.

“My name is Mr. Steven Johnson, and this is my granddaughter, Savanna Johnson,” replied Mr. Johnson to the three kids. Then Savanna took over and explained how they had come there. But both Savanna and Mr. Johnson knew well enough that some phenomenon had put them inside the book. Inside, Savanna was freaking out so badly.

The trio seemed to know just what to do though, so they relied on them. Savanna and Mr. Johnson followed the trio to a large, old, bearded professor who seemed to be head of all the people on campus. His name was Professor Albus Dumbledore. He waved a stick in the air while uttering words, like he was doing magic then pointed the wand at them. A streak of blue light erupted from the tip of the wand. It hit them and nothing happened.

The professor looked puzzled, and then tried again. Nothing happened again. Then the professor looked puzzled still, and then he seemed to be remembering something.

“Harry, the spell isn’t working because Voldemort has ransacked the Ministry of Magic. He must be destroyed if these two want to go home. And you my boy,” explained Professor Dumbledore to Harry, “have to kill him. Soon.”

Hermione and Ron gasped and gaped at Harry. Savanna and Mr. Johnson didn’t get it, but the trio explained.

 If Lord Voldemort had more power, he could keep spells from working properly, since the Ministry of Magic well, controls magic. A lot of spells were tabooed or wouldn’t work at all. Also, he didn’t want anyone to escape him and his horrible wrath. Apparently, Lord Voldemort wanted to kill Harry and take over the non- Muggle world. Why he wanted to do that, they never found out.

Savanna, Mr. Johnson and the trio went to the trio’s dormitories and they packed their bags to go and find Voldemort.  Savanna tried to brighten the mood by calling Voldemort names like “Voldeemotee” and “Volde Mortipie”. Almost everyone had to crack up at that second one!

Just as they were about to head out the great oak doors, somebody ran past them screaming, “Voldemort’s here! Run for your lives! Aaaaaaah!!” a horde of people around them started waving their arms in the air, running and screaming.

The trio started heading the other way than the screaming people, so Savanna and Mr. Johnson had no choice but to follow them. It took a long time to navigate through the moving stairs and winding hallways, but finally, they exited the building.

 A pale man with no nose and a sneer on his face came in to their view. He was wearing black robes and he was bald. He was mercilessly killing people off in scores. He looked exactly as the book described it. It was Voldemort.

Savanna and Mr. Johnson hid behind some bricks that had piled up when Voldemort damaged the school.

“Voldeemotee,” whispered Savanna, clutching Mr. Johnson’s hand. Mr. Johnson had to stifle his smile in order to remain concealed from Voldemort.

“Harry Potter,” said Voldemort when he caught sight of Harry. “So nice to see you again with you little companions. Get ready to die.” taunted Voldemort. He raised his wand and yelled a spell but Harry deflected it in a split second.

 And so a long battle began, with Hermione and Ron stepping in when Harry was unprepared.

Suddenly, savanna had an idea. She picked up a rock and threw it behind Voldemort. He paid no attention, but the trio seemed to know what she was doing. Savanna threw another rock, this time a bigger one in to the same spot. Voldemort still didn’t pay attention. Then Savanna heaved a great big crimson brick into her arms and, with Mr. Johnson’s help she hurled it to the rear of Voldemort. It made a big thump and landed on Voldemort’s robes. He whirled around to see what made the sound. He realized somehow, the brick had been dropped on to his robes. His robes were tightly secured to his waist and his wand had gotten lost in the whirling action. He was trapped.  Finally, Harry killed him. Voldemort screamed and disintegrated in to nothing.

 When all traces of Voldemort vanished, so did Savanna and Mr. Johnson. They were back on the library couch as if nothing had happened. No time seemed to have passed by at all.

They slowly put away Harry Potter back and left the library. On the way to lunch, Savanna said “This has been the best day ever.”

How the Space Needle Came to Be

          “Class, I have some exciting news! Next week we will be going on a field trip to the beach to learn about sea life!” exclaimed Miss White to her keen class.

          “Yay!” cried the over-enthusiastic class. They started chattering about the field trip as soon as Miss White announced it.

Miss White was pleased that her kindergarten class was so happy to go on the field trip. She ushered the children back to their tables and handed out the permission slips to go. Then she answered questions, and soon, it was time to go home.

“Bye, children, have a good weekend! Bye!” she called to the children as they strode out the door. Miss White sank in to her squishy/soft chair at her desk. She graded papers, answered e-mails from parents and wrote in her calendar for the coming week.

Then she drove back to her comfy home to settle in and look at the pictures her class drew during free time. Tomorrow, I will go to the beach and check it out, thought Miss White as she went to bed, yawning generously. And then she drifted off to sleep noiselessly.

The next day, Miss White awoke to a fresh start. She had definitely woken up on the right side of the bed. She made French toast and scrambled eggs for breakfast, and then dressed to go to the beach. Thankfully, it wasn’t raining like it usually did in cloudy Seattle.

Miss White drove through the fog into wonderful rays of sunshine that beat down on her car. She smiled, for it had been days since it was sunny. Miss White drove down the steep slope past Mukilteo Elementary, where she taught kindergarten. 

There was a sign that said:

Miss White drove down farther and she finally reached Mukilteo Lighthouse & Ferry beach. She climbed out of her car and sucked in the salty ocean air. But there was something wrong with it. Miss White had smelled ocean air many times before, but it had never smelled like this. She was surprised. It almost smelled like concrete and gasoline. Miss White frowned, and then went to investigate.

She walked past the billboard and a bunch of teens playing volley ball in the sand. And there in the field where children played and ate, was a gigantic hole! Miss White gasped. Trucks were coming in, dumping liquid concrete in to it, and then leaving to get more.

Miss White went up to one of the truck drivers and asked what they were doing.

“Ma’am, we are building the foundation for what will be the tallest thing west of the Mississippi River! It is gonna be the tallest skyscraper you will have ever seen! Trust me; you will definitely wanna see this after it’s done next week. ‘The Man’ calls it the ‘Space Needle’.” said the bulky man to Miss White with a toothy smile. Miss White thanked him and went away to sit on a bench and sort out her thoughts.

She was planning for her class to eat lunch on the field, but that was entirely out of the question. And she certainly didn’t want her students to come to the beach and be more interested in the skyscraper than sea life. She had to do something about it before Wednesday, the day of the field trip.

Then she remembered something. The man she had talked to said something about a guy called “The Man”. Miss White wondered who that could be. She went up to ask one of the men and they said it was their manager, Mr. Walter Rich. Apparently, he was a very wealthy man.

So, Miss White went home and looked up “Walter Rich” in her Yellowpages book. He was in it and she got his address and phone number. Miss White called him up and made an appointment with him for that afternoon, but was careful not to say why.

That afternoon she drove up to the place where Mr. Rich had promised to meet her. It was a big empty lot with patches of grass here and there. Miss White thought it was horrid. Then she had an idea. Mr. Rich could build the Space Needle here!  It would become a popular tourist destination, the best in Washington State!

Just as Miss White was making plans, a glossy, jet black limo drove up. It was really long and it stopped when the middle was what was facing Miss White. The window rolled down and a handsome man that looked a little older that Miss White appeared. He had sunglasses on and his hair stood straight and stiff.

“Are you Miss White, ma’am? Why don’t we go for a ride?” said Mr. Rich. Miss White stepped inside the limo silently and took a seat. The inside of the limo was dimmed so the sun didn’t get in your eyes. There was a built in cooler with sodas in it next to Miss White. She was thirsty and eyed to cooler warily, but she didn’t say anything.

“Take one, Miss White; my treat,” said Mr. Rich, reading Miss White’s eyes. She took a Coca-Cola from the cooler, opened it with a pop, and savored a tiny sip of it.

“Hello, Mr. Rich. Nice to meet you,” Miss White finally built up the courage to speak and held out her hand to Mr. Rich. He shook her hand.

“So, Miss White, why have you called me here today?” questioned Mr. Rich. And so Miss White started her explanation of her upcoming field trip, Mr. Rich’s men telling her about the Space Needle, and everything else. Mr. Rich listened quietly, at times looking thoughtful.

“And so, I’ve been thinking that you could move the Space Needle to the place where you promised to meet me today. It is a hideous place, and it would be good if somebody fixed it up and put something nice there instead of leaving it to rot. Leave the beach. It’s almost the only thing that is actually perfect in our world,” Miss White finished her speech. Mr. Rich was dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief and he said “That was very touching, Miss White. The ocean should be left alone,” Mr. Rich sat up straight.

“I will order my workers to change sites immediately,” Mr. Rich whisked out his note-pad to make a note to tell his workers to change sites without saying another word. They arrived at the lot and Miss White stepped out of the limo and waved to Mr. Rich as the limo drove away. Then Miss White drove home, satisfied with her speech.

The next day, Miss White went to the ocean to check if Mr. Rich had betrayed her. He hadn’t. The giant hole was covered with dirt and fertilizer.

Miss White was content. She walked over to one of the park benches and read her book, enjoying the delightful rays of sunshine that sparkled in the ocean.