|  Teen Writing
New Writing by Lucy, Elizabeth, Claire, Ebby, Madison, Emma, and Shaun.
Tall Tale—Samantha Las the Giant
Samantha was born in a cottage not far from the village Saska, Mississippi, in 1823. Her mother was also named Samantha Las. Samantha never had a father. Samantha had two sisters, Lilia and Lilac Las, and she was very fond of the way her sisters always did what they were told to do without arguing.
Samantha hated eating green beans because she hated the color green. However, when Samantha was eight, her mother died and she had to live with her uncle who was very fond of vegetables, which meant that she had to eat vegetables and nothing else. By age nine she grew five inches. By the time she was 12, she was 9'8” tall. Her uncle was so scared of her by that time that he kicked her out of the house and told her that he could not live with a giant, that his house was too small for a 9'8” human! Samantha brought lots of vegetables before leaving her uncle's, after his mean statement, and kept growing.
When people saw her they said "Ohhhhhhhh my..........it's a giant!” She wondered how big she really was. She wondered if the vegetables made her so big.
Samantha was as big as 30 normal-sized adults on top of each other. Making big tracks with her feet each time walked, she decided she would try to shrink by losing weight from her huge body. She tried dancing but that just shook the whole world around. Samantha decided to just jump lightly in the air but then she shook the whole universe around and around. She could not believe she could do this. She was as strong as ten 100-pound weights; this all came from eating vegetables for four years.
After all this rumbling of the Earth by Samantha, she went to bed for the night in a cave. Morning awoke her and she gazed at the little people walking around giggling as they compared themselves to her huge body.
Because she was so mad at herself, she jumped up to Mars and back down and then crushed a big part of the Earth, making a big trail that flooded with water, creating the Mississippi River which went from Minnesota to Louisiana. She then felt very responsible for what she had done, so she jumped in the water that was still forming the River and became Ama of water. Ama is another word for "king", ex. you are the water.
Now no one could see how ugly Samantha had become since those years with her uncle. When you see the water shimmer brightly, you know that Samantha is there calling to you!
Lucy, Rosa Parks Middle School
Valley Girl Shakespeare
Claire: This is our extra credit presentation for British Literature *cough* stupid *cough* *cough*....
Emily: Do you need a cough drop? Spits cough drop out and hands to Claire.
Claire: Oh, thanks!
Elizabeth: We are only listing the most, like, famous lines of Shakespeare, because the rest is, like, SO totally boring!
Emily: Like, to be, or like, not to be? That is like so totally the question!
Elizabeth: steps up like, take the fool away!
Emily: EXCUSE ME!?
Claire: It’s like a line, or something… DUH!
Emily: Oh…right…
Elizabeth, Claire, and Ebby, Homeschooled
Acrostics
People
Encourage
Acting
Cooperatively
Everyday
Why doesn't
Anybody
Refuse?
Red,
Outshining
Sadness
Eternally
Living
In
Great
Happiness
Together
Speaks
Many words
In
Little
Effort
***
Laughing
Over
Various
Events
Living
Outside of
Vicious
Evils
Madison, Walter Johnson High School
Autumn
Beneath the barren gray autumn sky,
The leaves speckle before they die.
From the deadly season about to kill
Dreamy summer with a gusty chill,
Flower buds wither where autumn mists cling,
Leaving no trace of long-forgotten spring
Only the frigid air of the annual freeze
And the leaves that flutter in the autumn breeze.
Emma, Winston Churchill High School
PRISONER
I AM A PRISONER,
CONFINED,
TRAPPED,
UNABLE TO ESCAPE.
I CANNOT LEAVE
THIS MAZE.
I AM LOST—
LEFT—
TO SUFFER THE ETERNAL PAIN
AND TORMENT.
I AM A PRISONER.
THAT OF MY OWN MIND!
YET THE EXTENT OF MY TORTURE
I CANNOT DECIDE,
FOR I AM A PRISONER—
MY OWN AND ALL ELSE’S.
Shaun, Takoma Park Middle School
The Tragic Play
I wish Life were a book,
Perhaps a children’s tale,
I could move through the pages,
Sheltered by the author.
Whatever the end,
I could go back
And start over.
I am so busy,
Burdened,
Betrayed
With the expectations,
That I find,
I really have no time
To enjoy the dialogue.
If I could press stop
On the Earth’s Rotation
On Life,
Then I would.
I think
Maybe Life is a book,
A tragedy, a play,
Maybe even
A melancholy song.
At the end,
The not-so-Happily Ever After,
I can start over.
And leave behind the pages.
And the world along with it.
Shaun, Takoma Park Middle School
Where I Wish to Be
Wherever I go, I am always here,
Always here, yet never There.
I traveled high, I traveled low,
But I was still here,
Not There, where I wished to be.
However near, however far,
I was always here, and never there.
Though looking back, I was There,
Not Here,
Where I wished to be.
Shaun, Takoma Park Middle School
Infection
Prologue. Quench
Thirsty. The need was overpowering—it coiled around his mind, the undying wish for blood conquering his thoughts. He fell toward the counter with a grunt, his head meeting the ceiling midway as he spat with ferocity. He stumbled the remaining distance to the counter, where he tore open the pack of meat.
The scarlet liquid spattered his shirt as he dug his mouth into the meat. He clawed at the meat pack, catching dirt and blood in his fingernails. His vicious behavior lessened when all that remained were several chunks of crudely ripped meat hanging of the package.
The thirst receded as quickly as it had come. Robert Cummings sighed. “I am a monster.” He trudged upstairs to wash his blood-stained shirt.
Chapter 1. Infection
Things had changed since he had started testing-even before the virus had consumed him, the old Robert Cummings-the virus was unlike anything else. The mutation was elegant, almost--the host was not hurt, physically, but strengthened. Or so it has seemed.
Vampirism. That was the true term. The virus had the ability to raise the host’s level of stress and aggression. The body required more, more than what regular food could provide. Over time, the host would begin to rely on raw meat.
Robert Cummings gasped as the rat scurried away, leaving two small bite marks in his palm. The pain was controlling him-he fell in a series of sharp spasms, then fumbled in his pockets until his shaking fingers grasped the car keys. No, he thought. Please, no.
The rat-one of the hosts of the new strains-escaped. Broke straight through the cage. It was a host. It bit me. He was feeling light-headed…No. He had to make it. He couldn’t be found by the doctors. An infected human--he would be quarantined. Could it really infect humans?
Papers scattered across the floor as Robert burst through the door of the office. Abort. The study is over. That part was easy enough. He had more pressing issues on his mind at the moment. Robert clattered down the stairs, each hurried step echoing a metal clang.
By the time he had reached the parking lot, his shirt was wet with blood. He ran to his car-a jet black sports car, using the side to steady himself. Get in the car, he pleaded to himself. Save yourself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a security guard nearing. “Excuse me, sir?” Robert ignored him, opened the car door, and slipped inside. Before the guard could say any more, he turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the gas.
He hurtled down through the parking lot and onto the main road. He was feeling dizzy…His head dropped for just a margin of a second, then his consciousness was jolted awake as his car met with the guard rail. Sparks and the clawing sound of metal against the rail surrounded him. He swerved to the side to keep from driving off course.
He needed to reach a hospital, he was loosing too much blood…The last thing Robert remembered was his blood flowing off the steering wheel, and how he couldn’t feel the pain any more, just a dull numb feeling… Robert blacked out just before his car flipped over the guard rail and into the trees, and the air bags burst into place.
Chapter 2. Disappearance
Robert awoke feeling drained. His back ached, and drowsiness blurred his surroundings. A splitting migraine interrupted his thoughts. He blinked several times and looked around.
He was in the driver’s seat of his wrecked car. Shards of glass lay everywhere, covering him like an abstract glass sculpture. The front window had snapped in half when it had collided with the tree, which was currently caving in the other half of the car.
Slowly and cautiously, he moved. He pushed on the door and it creaked open, swinging on the remaining hinge. Glass fell to the ground as he stood--the abstract sculpture awakening. He stepped outside.
The car was totaled. The crushed vehicle was no more than scrap metal. If only that was the worst of his problems.
Robert checked his hand. The swelling had receded; dried blood caked the wound, and it looked like it easily could have happened in the crash.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The crash had been reported. They were coming. Robert could just scarcely think over his migraine--he groaned with each wave of the headache--but he managed to keep in sight what had to be done.
He tore the license plates off the car. They can’t be able to trace the car back to me. I have to disappear. He checked the car for any other traces of himself.
In the glove compartment, he found a photograph. He was receiving an award in ground-breaking medicine for his studies on the spread of viruses. Robert looked at the elation in his face, the happiest he had ever been in his career. A tear flowed down his cheek as he pocketed the photograph and fled into the trees.
Chapter 3. Host
Robert frowned as he watched the evening news. “Breaking News,” the reporter on TV said. “Robert Cummings, well-known doctor and friend, was reported missing today after he disappeared from his home in North Potomac. It appears he left his office in the Medical Testing Laboratory in a rush. Signs of blood give investigators to believe that he was injured. If you see any sign of him, or have any information to share, call the following number…” He turned off the TV.
Robert was nervous. Twelve hours and he still wasn’t hungry. When was the last time he had eaten? Breakfast? He remembered gulping down a bowl of fruit before heading off to work.
He walked to the mini-fridge of his newly rented apartment and swung open the door. He stacked several cheeses, bread, and ham onto the table and forced himself to eat. He wasn’t the least bit hungry, but he wanted to reassure himself that he was still healthily eating.
Robert’s stomach began to cramp. He groaned and knelt over. It didn’t help--in fact, his stomach was cramping even more. After several minutes of increasing pain, the attack came.
Jolted by an invisible wave, Robert yelped as his back bent inward. He fell to the floor in another burst of energy. That was when the lab rats had fed.
Memories of the study flooded back to him as he tripped and crawled toward the mini-fridge. The lab rats had fed twice a day in violent spasms, where they searched for raw meat for several minutes. Under the condition where they didn’t acquire raw meat within the time-frame, they entered a coma or died outright.
Robert frantically threw food aside as he searched the freezer. He had prepared for this. Some small part of him, the part that had remained sane, had known that this would happen. There was no way to avoid it after a direct infection. It was a disease.
Finally, his hands met the packs of meat he had stored away. He tugged, sending meat packs throughout the apartment room, and the fridge to the ground.
He dove to the first meat pack in his direct line of sight and tore away the plastic cover. Without hesitation, he sank his teeth into the meat, viciously tearing at it.
Then it was over. The cramp in his stomach receded, and Robert sank into an armchair in exhaustion. “It’s happening,” he breathed as he gasped for air. “I am a vampire.”
Shaun, Takoma Park Middle School
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