In English class we have been working on a creative writing story. We had to bring in a picture and tell the story behind it. Each Day we added a piece to it until it had been revised over and over. We had to add extra detail on specific things, thought shots and snapshots, and an exploded moment that explains the five senses in detail. Today we exchanged our finished stories with three other people. Those three people had to ask five questions about the piece and give some criticism on what we could do better. We also had to score it, zero being awful and four being perfect. My story was about a picture of me holding a deer head when I was eleven. Here is my story:
I woke up on a bright sunny morning. I was filled with excitement because my dad was going to take me hunting with him. What I didn't know, was that I was going to inject terror into my own day.
It was early October in 2006. My family was on our yearly hunting trip. We go hunting every year in Graham. In 1999 there was a fire there, so its mostly snags and dead fall. The charred remains of the trees litter the ground. The stronger trees remain standing, stripped naked by the fire. There is really thick undergrowth, so it is great for the deer.
The previous afternoon, my dad had shot a deer. Today, he wanted me to go retrieve it with him. As we made our trek up the mountain, I could barely keep up. My dad hid the deer in a spot thick with chaparral. Chaparral is a really thick bush that is really impossible to get through. After about two hours of stumbling over logs, and getting caught in bushes, we came to where my dad hid the deer. To my relief, he had already gutted it. We started waling but soon my dad started having troubles. The deer's antlers were getting caught in the thick chaparral and it was dragging him down. He decided to cut the head off. He told me that when he cut it off, my fave turned a light shade of green. He made me carry the head the whole way. The action was repulsive. Carrying the head of an animal made we want to puke.
On our way down we didn't take the same route as we did on the way up. It would have been to difficult for my dad, with a deer on his back. The way he chose was too difficult for me. The undergrowth was really thick, and I didn't want to walk through it. I asked my dad if I could take a different path. He told me that I could but I had to meet him at the saddle in the mountain by sun high. I nodded my head and we went our different ways.
By this time clouds had started to roll in. It wasn't going to be long before it started raining. I started to go faster, and I was getting deeper in the forest. The wind was rustling through the trees, adding to the confusion. To my left I could see a wall of chaparral and to my right there was a maze of dead fall. Straight in front of me was a massive tree trunk laying on its side. The sky was turning a deep shade of grey and the forest was growing darker. I could just barely see camp at the bottom of the mountain. After about fifteen minutes I didn't know where I was. I could feel the fear prickling up my spine.
Time seemed to come to a screeching stop and my senses became alert. The first drops of rain passed my ears at the speed of a flower blooming. I was aware of all the sounds around me; chirping birds ruffling their feathers, the little stream of water trickling over varying tones of grey, black, red and blue stones. I could smell the aroma of soggy pine needles combined with the rotting three logs and dirt. I could see the different colors of the forest fading in and out as my vision blurred. I could feel the brisk chill tickling up my arms, and the rugged smoothness of the deer's antlers in my hands. My breath came in quick, painful jabs as my heart rate sped up. As I slowly descended to the ground, my mind seemed blank as well as reeling with thoughts and questions. I laid on the ground in the fetal position, clutching the head of the deer to my chest. The feeling of hopless and dispair overwhelmed me. What if my dad didn't notice I was missing until he was back ihn camp? What If something else found me fefore he did? What if he never found me? That's when I heard my dad. He was calling my name. Time sped up as I jumped up and started running in the direction of his voice, the deer head getting caught on bushes. I tripped over every stick in sight, and between that and the antlers in my hands, I was getting scraped up bad. When my dad came in sight a wave of relief flooded over me. He told me that I wasn't lost and that he wasn't mad, but I thought he was furious and those thirty minutes had terrorized me. I stayed with him all the way back to camp and I watched him skin the deer in scilence.
For the duration of the camping trip I was inseperable from that head. I felt that the head was a symbol of what I went through that day, and it had sentimental value. When it was time to go home, I had to put it in the back of the truck, but when we got home, I held on to it untill my parents make me get rid of it on trash day. My dad thought about getting it mounted for me, but he decided against it. I will never for get that day and the valuable lesson it taught me: even though I may not like the path my dad sets out for me, and it may not be the easiest, it is the best and safest.
Here is the reaction of the three students who read it:
Student One: Student: "What if the paper is so detailed that I dont have any questions?" Teacher: "Think of something!" Questions: 1. Make the first paragraph longer 2. I cant think of anything else Score: 4
Student Two: Student: "Can I give this person a 4.5?" Teacher: "No, its from 0-4" Student: "But-" Teacher: "No! Its from 0-4" Student: "Okay, how about you come over here and read this paper and then tell me that I cant give it a 4.5" Teacher: "I will read it eventually." Questions: 1. Amazing paper 2. I love you 3. Will you marry me? 4. You're a great writer 5. Nice detail Score: 4.5
Student Three: Teacher: "You better give this paper some criticism bacause nobody else wants to!" Questions: 1. Where is Grahm? 2. How old were you? 3. Nice details, but you could make a better background setting 4. The conclusion was weak, you could make it better 5. Uhh... Score: 4
Scince nobody really asked me any questions that I coud use to make it better I asked my friend to do it. Here is what she said:
1. Have you questioned what your dad tells you to do since then? 2. Do you love your dad? 3. Did you get disgusting substances on you from carrying the deer head? 4. Did it ruin your clothes? 5. Why do you want me to do this?
As you know, I like Green Day. Love Green Day. I am obsessed with Green Day. (My bestie says that I'm not obsessed, I'm just a dedicated fan). I have every single one of their songs on my iPod, and all the songs I know to how play on my guitar are theirs. I have two Green Day posters and a collage of Green Day pictures. I have 17 pictures of Billie Joe Armstrong on my phone. I have 2 Green Day shirts, one of which has a big picture of Billie Joe Armstrong on it. I love Green Day.
A guy at my mom's work told her about a concert he wants to go to because AFI, which is his favorite band, is the opening act. That concert just happens to be a Green Day concert. My mom told me about it and I begged her to take me, knowing that it would never actually happen. I asked her to look up when and where it was and how much it would cost, but a week went by and she never did.
One day she let me on her computer. I was on hottopic.com looking at Green Day shirts when it crossed my mind to look up the concert. I went on greenday.com and looked at the concert schedule. The closest one was in Colorado on August 28th. To see how much it would cost, I entered in tickets for two. Then I went and bugged my mom about it some more. I told her that I would die a violent, bloody death if I didn't go. Just for the heck of it she entered in tickets for five people. Meanwhile I was dreaming of what it would be like to actually go, and starting to wonder if my mom might buy the tickets.
Then she mentioned my dad.
Now, my dad HATES Green Day. He can't stand the kind of music, what the music is about, and the excessive swearing. On my birthday, I got to pick the music that was played on the way to Bogus Basin, and I picked all Green Day. He switched the music by the trip back because he couldn't stand it anymore. Whenever I play Green Day on my iPod speakers, he tells me to "TURN THAT (another word for crap) OFF!!!!!!!"
This is why I thought I was hallucinating when my mom called my dad.
When my mom pulled out her phone and said "We will just see what dad thinks about this" I lost all hope. She dialed his phone number, said "what do you think about going to Colorado for the weekend in August?", paused, said "for a Green Day concert", paused, and said "okay. Love ya. Bye." When she opened her mouth to speak to me I was expecting "he said that he doesn't want to waste money on going to see the worst band ever in concert" but instead she said "he said 'sounds good. We only live once.' ".
Sounds good? We only live once? SOUNDS GOOD! WE ONLY LIVE ONCE! Who kidnapped my dad? What is he smoking? Did he get a lobotomy? I couldn't make sense of it. I thought she was kidding for a second. I thought Aston Kutcher was going to jump out and yell "YOU'VE BEEN PUNKED!" When that didn't happen, my world was spinning. I am going to a GREEN DAY CONCERT! After the shock wore off, a brick wall of energy hit me. To make a long story short, I screamed and jumped around for the rest of the night.
It has now been about two weeks since that. The excitement has worn off somewhat. It just doesn't seem real. I have imagined myself at a Green Day concert many times and now that I am actually going to one, it barely feels different. But there is still 120 days until August 28th. It feels like it is just another one of my dreams now, but when the day comes, it will definently be the best day of my life.
I had to make up a story in French class that had this new vocabulary:
Soupe aux cacahuetes: peanut soup ils goutent: they taste ennuye: annoyed aucun: none emporter: to take d'abord: first, foremost on s'en va: were going/leaving
My story: Un jour mon amis et Je decide de cuisiner soupe aux cacahuetes. Je donne le soupe au deux hommes dans la rue. Ils goutent le soupe. Ils n'aime pas le soupe. Je est triste, mais, deux fille veut au goutent le soupe et J'ai tres content. Les filles n'aime pas le soupe. J'ai ennuye parce que aucun aime le soupe. Un homme veut au gout le soupe. Je lui dit "D'abord Je veut lui dit tu, tout le monds m'aime pas le soupe, alors on s'en va." Il lui dit "Mais, Je veut soup!" Je donne le soupe. Il aime le soupe. Il lui dit "Je veut acheter tout le soupe et Je veut emporter le soupe au mon famille." Mon amis et Je sont tres content.
In english: One day my friend and I decide to cook peanut soup. I give the soupe to two men in the street. They taste the soupe. They don't like the soupe. I am sad, but, two girls want to taste my soup and I am happy. The girls don't like my soup. I am annoyed because none like my soup. A man wants to taste my soup. I tell him " First I have to tell you, everybody doesnt like my soup, so we are leaving." He says "But, I want soup!" I give him the soup. He likes the soup. He says " I want to buy all the soupe and I want to take the soup to my family." My friend and I are very happy.
I am taking French. A couple of days ago we had a sub. We had to write a story using the vocabulary we already know because we couldn't ask the sub to translate any words. It probably has terrible grammar too.This is the story I came up with:
In french: Il y a un garcon. Le garcon chante et Il s'appelle Billie Joe Armstrong. Billie Joe est tres beau. Il chante bien chansons. Tout mondes aime Billie Joe Armstrong. Il y a belle fille. Les fille s'appelle Sarabeth. Sarabeth aime beacoup Billie Joe Armstrong. Elle voit Il chante. Billie Joe Armstrong lui donne une accolade et donne elle ses chemise. Sarabeth est content. Sarabeth est tres tres tres content! Billie Joe Armstrong chante bien. Sarabeth va au magasin et cherche pour un chemise. Elle veut un belle chemise pour un belle garcon. Dans le magasin, il y a seulement laide chemise. Sarabeth est triste. Elle parte le magasin. Sarabeth va deuxiem magasin. Dans le magasin il y a chic vetements. Sarabeth trouve un chemise parfait. Elle acheter le chemise et cherche pour Billie Joe Armstrong. Elle trouve Billie Joe et donne le chemise. Billie Joe Armstrong pense qu'elle est une fille foo. Il prend le chemise et chante avec Sarabeth. Elle est tre tre tre tre content.
In english: There is a boy. The boy sings and his name is Billie Joe Armstrong. Billie Joe is very handsom. He sings good songs. Everybody loves Billie Joe Armstrong. There is a Beautiful girl. The girls name is Sarabeth. Sarabeth loves Billie Joe Armstrong a lot. She sees him sing. Billie Joe Armstrong gives her a hug and his shirt. Sarabeth is happy. Sarabeth is very very very happy! Billie Joe Armstrong sings good. Sarabeth goes to a store and looks for a shirt. She wants a beautiful shirt for a beautiful boy. In the store, there is only ugly shirts. Sarabeth is sad. She leaves the store. Sarabeth goes to another store. In the store there is cool clothes. Sarabeth finds a perfect shirt. She buys the shirt and looks for Billie Joe Armstrong. She finds Billie Joe and gives him the shirt. Billie Joe Armstrong thinks the is a crazy girl. He takes the shirt and sings with Sarabeth. She is very very very very happy.
I'm on a roll with bizarre dreams! This one isn't scary, or depressing but I sure hope part of it doesn't actually happen.
I was in algebra. But instead of doing math we were playing kareoke. We were graded on our singing talent. When the microphone came to me, I refused to sing. I was getting an F either way, so why not do it without the embarrassment? My tracher got up from his desk and said "Alright! I cant take this anymore! Lets go outside." We went outside and there was a tuor bus in the parking lot. A stage rolled out form behind it and Green Day was on it. My algebra teacher said "If you're not gonna sing in class, then they might change your mind." Then they started playing all of my favorite songs and I was singing with them...
Like all of my dreams, I woke up right in the middle of it. But that is one dream I would like to continue with.