Each month, we feature EIGHT new pieces of student writing on the TWENTY-SIXTH of the month. (Get it?) This month, we are are featuring writing from our Creative Writing Workshops program.
826michigan Creative Writing Workshops Programs
Meredith Fischer, 8
Secret
St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic School
Beyond Goosebumps: A New Take on the Scary Story
Long ago . . . an old, weak lady loved the water. In fact, whenever people saw her, her pruny body was in the water. People were starting to get mysterious, and many rumors were said. She heard the rumors and disliked them. She was so upset, she decided to swim to another country. Halfway through her journey, she became tired. There would be almost two days until there would be a good place to rest. So she closed her eyes and sank . . . She woke up after one hundred years. Weak, she swam to another country, and when she got there, her secret was told . . . How did this happen? Wasn’t loving the water a good thing? What was next for the lady? The last time anyone ever saw the lady was when she knew her secret was told. The next day, everyone was searching for her. She wasn’t found.
Naomi Maxwell, 10
Letter to Kiwi
Ann Arbor Open
A Writable Feast—Flavorful Food Writing
Dear Kiki-Wi,
When I taste you, you bubble up in my mouth. You shine green . . . like algae. You’re tough and fuzzy and I believe you can fly. You smell like water on the green part and dirt on the brown part. You are mushy and moist in my mouth like dew on a clover but with a little bit of sugar. After I eat you, I feel tingly on my tongue. I shouldn’t have eaten your skin. I looooooove you, but you are not as good as your friend doughnut. Bye!
I love you mostly,
Naomi
Amaya Melendez, 12
Letter to Kiwi
Clauge Middle
A Writable Feast—Flavorful Food Writing
Dear Kiwi,
Remember the first time that we met, when my mom bought you in the grocery store? After that you were right in the center of the bowl. You were the best looking—no bumps—and you were the ripest kiwi. When I picked you up, you felt soft, and when I started cutting you, it felt so soft and juicy. You were as green and ripe as a tree that had been rained on for hours. I bit into you, and at first you had this really good sour sort of taste like Sour Patch Kids. Then after that it was this really pure burst of sweetness that was as sweet as a soft ripened peach. Your taste was just like my favorite candy, Sour Patch Kids: sour, then sweet. The reason why I like you is because you are like candy, but healthy! My favorite reason why I like you so much is because you are a mix of sweet and sour, and that is a taste that people could devour. Your brother was tasty too, and now you are both sliding down my throat and going into my stomach. I am so glad that I met you and ate you.
Sincerely,
Amaya
Zander Richardson, 6, Burns Park Elementary
Wesley Roberts, 7, Eberwhite Elementary
Scare Scream and Spikey Man
Monster Meet
Scare Scream: [stomps down into the stadium and has an evil grin]
Spikey Man: Do you want to play football?
Scare Scream: [deep voice] I don’t have hands. If I play I will destroy the ball.
Spikey Man: Do you want to read some books? Like, cowboy books?
Scare Scream: Maybe, but what is a cowboy?
Spikey Man: They are from the desert and the Old West with old-fashioned hats and small masks and sometimes with small guns.
Scare Scream: Oh, so you mean blasters.
Spikey Man: No! Not that new. They are the oldest guns.
Scare Scream: Wait, did I land on Earth in my pod?
Spikey Man: Let’s end this conversation now, okay? We can read cowboy books, please!!!
Scare Scream: Fine. I am ten thousand light-years behind on this planet.
Spikey Man: How ‘bout I show you around?
Scare Scream: Okay.
Maia Sears, 11
Pit bulls
Fortis Academy
To Whom It May Concern: Letters to the Public
Dear People of Michigan, I’m not really just talking about Michiganders! I’m talking about the people that talk bad about pit bulls. I have my own dog that is a pit bull, and his name is Peanut Butter. My family and I adopted Peanut Butter at a dog shelter in Huron Valley. My family and I love him so much! Unfortunately, we don’t take him on walks very often. We are afraid that people will feel threatened or scared by him! So we try not to let him see too many strangers out in public. We are not taking any chances!! You are the ones who are afraid from him! My pit bull is probably more scared of you than you will ever be of him!! Peanut Butter was so scared when we first saw him. At first we saw him in a huge cage in the shelter. We wanted to meet him, so we got put in a room with him, and Peanut Butter was so scared of us. I know that I would never do anything to an animal to harm it in any way, shape, or form. Anyway, Peanut Butter was trying to get used to us, but I guess his body refused. I know that because he was shaking like a horse trying to get flies off of it! He was acting like he was having a seizure! I was actually concerned! Although, I think me and Peanut Butter REALLY CLICKED!! If you just give them a chance, they won’t be very scary. Saying that pit bulls are bad is just an offensive stereotype. It isn’t very nice to say. It’s not like the dogs will understand you, but just to not hurt people’s feelings about their love of pit bulls, I suggest that you don’t say that. Especially in public!! Love dogs FOREVER!! I always like to say to my dog: “HUGS AND LICKS FOREVER!!”
Winnie Jalet, 11
A Bigger Word for Nervous That I Didn’t Even Know
Tappan Middle School
Magical Moments and Memories
I was nervous as I got up to the block. Thoughts raced through my head like tiny race cars on a track called “my brain.” I was at the pool in Carmel, Indianapolis. This pool was special. It was the pool where they held Olympic trials. I had almost a year to practice for this meet and a week’s worth of tapering. I had worked for this. I had earned this. I stepped up to the block, my body shaking like a massage chair that you see at the mall. I was nervous, wait, more than nervous. A bigger word for nervous that I didn’t even know. I reassured myself, it was only a fifty breaststroke. “I’ve swam a million of these,” I said to myself. The pool was where I worked my magic. I was a magician in a Kneeskin. “Take your marks,” said the meet official. I stood on the block as still as a tree branch. I positioned myself on the block. “GO!” I launched myself off the block and was ready for whatever would come.
Calvin Sears, 14
The Saga Continues
Washtenaw International High School
Magical Moments and Memories
Okay, so I like this girl. Her name is [redacted]. So I’m all like, “Dang [redacted] so fine, but she probably won’t notice me” every day of my life, just being an awkward pimply teenager as usual. I swear, if I wasn’t thinking about [redacted] twenty-four seven, I was probably thinking about food, but still. So anyway, I’m at this hair salon, which is called *Censored* Cuts. So, I’m at *Censored* Cuts texting my good pally <<404>> about the [redacted] situation, and who “ships” us or whatever. I’m sitting in a leather chair gushing sweat like Niagra Falls, heart beating so fast it might get a speeding ticket and a $500 fine, and I’m just debating with myself about whether or not I should confess my feels to [redacted]. Luckily <<404>> and [redacted] were at school still with a few of my other friends, so it wouldn’t be so awkward. Probably. I was clammier than a seafood place, white-knuckles clenching my phone, and finally pouring my feelings out at my keyboard like a glass of water, hoping that texting [redacted] would make me feel better. BOY WAS I WRONG! Not like I got rejected or anything, more like everybody, myself included, was flipping OUT. Suddenly, I was being swamped with texts and calls from <<404>> and his brother—error—even WHILE I WAS ON THE TOILET. So, I’m sitting on the toilet and <<404>> is all like being mysterious and not responding, and every now and then she’ll be all, “her phone died broseph” or send a word of encouragement while—error—is just textin’ and callin’ like crazy about everything and WOW OH MY GOD WAS I TERRIFIED. And when I did finally get an answer back from [redacted], she was just as awkward as me, all vague and all. But, finally I did run into her, and her two friends jumped on me like guard dogs and scoped me out like a freakin’ telescope fan club. It was terrifying to be sure. Anyway, I’m out of time, but this was all about a week ago so THE SAGA CONTINUES.
Henry Ortiz, 11
Breaking and Entering
Maltby Intermediate
Magical Moments and Memories
“Hey Mom, can I go up to Cullen’s house?”
“Sure,” said Mom.
“Thanks, Mom!” I dashed out of the house quick as lightning and ran up the hill as fast as a bullet. I felt like I was in a race. When I got to Cullen’s house, I immediately rang the doorbell. I couldn’t wait to see Cullen’s smiling face. Then, when nobody answered, I rang the doorbell again. I finally got something, except it wasn’t Cullen, it was a barking Molly. That’s when I realized Cullen and his family weren’t there. So, I walked around the house and I went in through the side door. I was going through the garage, and went to the door, and pushed with all my might. I grunted, and Molly trotted up to me. I could smell Molly’s toxic breath, and I went past her. I looked around, and then I had an idea. I went to the den to get a piece of paper with Molly following. I wrote: “Dear Cullen, hi. How are you? Where are you? Maybe you can stop by my house later. From, Henry.” I put the note on the kitchen counter and ran back down the hill to my house. I opened the door and Mom said, “Oh, hi Henry. Where were you? I thought you and Cullen were playing.”
“Uh . . . ” I stammered. “They weren’t home.”
“So what were you doing this whole time?” my Mom asked.
“Uh . . . I went in their house.”
“YOU WHAT!?!?!?!?!?” Mom yelled.
“I went into their house and left a note for Cullen.”
Mom sighed and started to explain why I shouldn’t enter people’s houses when they’re not home. Mom went to get her phone to apologize. Cullen’s family found my note when they got home and they all thought it was funny. My note now hangs up on their fridge. Now I know not to break into people’s houses. I won’t be breaking and entering into anyone’s house again.