Young Writers Page

Translate to French

German

Translate to German

Italian

Translate to Italian

Translate to Portuguese

Spanish

Translate to Spanish

Young Writers Program

On-Line Publication

NOTICE

The thoughts of many Americans have turned to the nature of life and death in the wake of the tragic events of September 11th of 2001. Here is how some junior high school students wrote on the subject in the weeks that followed. These short compositions are the original creative work of young writers. They are their sole property and any unauthorized quotations, duplication, or distribution is forbidden. Permission may be requested through Shangri-La Publications, #3 Coburn Hill Road, Warren Center PA 18851-0065 USA.

Kara Hollenback
English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001

  Cold air drifted through my lattic-walled bedroom and enveloped my body.  Sleep still clung to my physical being, but wakefulness had already aroused my mental being.  Another day of mundane existence was about to start.
  Time ticked by, how long I know not, and presently sounds of life began to be heard outside my door.  Birds welcomed the new day with melodius tunes, birds chirped softly, and in the distance a cow's impatient mooing could be heard.  Looking through a space in the lattice, my eyes fell upon a small square of golden sunshine.  Somehow, this did not help warm my chilly bones.  After a little while, the sounds of an opening door and human footsteps filled my ears.  Must be time for chores, I thought.  Every morning for the past twenty two years has been the same.  Squeak went the door, shuffle, shuffle went the feet.  I watched the farmer's feetwalk over to his favorite chair, stop while he sat, and one by one be lifted up and placed into the old, worn-out work boot.  So ordinary, so boring.
  I must have drifted back into a sleep-state shortly after the farmer left.  The next thing I heard was the unlatching of my bedroom door.  How rude to interrupt a sleeping soul!  The voice was urging me to get up and stretch.  But "I DON'T want to," I protested. The voice continued to rattle on, saying how I needed to stop being lazy and should go outside.  After a few feeble attempts of pretending to be asleep, my legs finally unwrapped themselves, and I stood with a shakeof my body.  The air was still cool, but the sunshine that filled the room told me that the temperature was sure to warm soon.  I trotted along the porch and out the opened door to explore.
  I gazed to the right and to the left.  Nothing new; same old surroundings... but wait!  What was that?  Out of the corner of my keen eye, I noticed a quick, foreign movement.  An intruder!  My legs immediately moved, carrying me swiftly through the dew-filled grass and into the large hayfield.  Faster, faster, I ran.  That intruder must be caught!  As I ran, my eyes remained trained on the target, carefully noting its every move.  I was far away to see exactly who the intruder could be.  Suddenly, my vision was clouded, my senses dulled, and my target lost.  NO!  NOt now!  Stopping abruptly, I desperately struggled to regain composure, but all was in vain.  In frustration, I let out a harsh bark (the kind that only comes after one has lost site of their desired target).  I searched the area completely, sniffing and investigating much ground, but could not find any sign of the intruder.  Discouraged, I returned homeward.
  As I rounded the corner of the house, I was met by one of my owners.  She was shouting something, what I cannot say.  All the loud, angry words blended into one big garbled drone.  Ignoring her, I trotted along into the house.  Entering the kitchen door, I stopped by my food dish.  A quick glance told me that it had been filled again with the same old meal -- a brown pile of mushy stuff and some dry nuggets.  I gave it all a sniff ... beef and liver ... again.  That could wait until later, if one of those nasty cats didn't gobble it up first.  WHO CARES if they do, it's not like I actually enjoy eating that junk.
  Gazing up at the kitchen table, my eyes beheld the deliciously crisp and buttery treat my family calls "toast".  Ah, to have a piece of that -- just to guard and chew on.  Hesitantly, I approached one of the chairs, occupied by the youngest member of the family.  I raised one ... a good response.  Somebody must be having a bad morning.  I moved to the opposite side of the table to try again.  I repeated the paw-raising preocess, trying to be extra polite this time.  For added touch, I dropped the head and lowered the eyes.  This time, I received a positive response.  A piece of toast was pushed to the edge of the table, just avove my nose.  Stretchingmy neck up, I attempted to grab the treat with my teeth.  I missed, though, and ended up pushing the piece farther back onto the table.  After several minutes wait, a hand pushed the toast back towards the edge again.  This time, my teeth sunk into the delightful treat.  I stood up, took a step back, and walked into the next room to enjoy my well-deserved breakfast. 
  As I set my precious piece of toast on the floor, I contemplated whether or not I should actually eat it.  After all, it had taken so long to acquire.  Was it really worth eating it all at once?  INstead, I decided to study the toast.  Lying down, I stretched my body contentedly and gazed at the piece of bread.  Soon, I became aware that my eyelids were slowly lowering themselves and my breathing was becoming deeper.  Maybe just a short nap ...
Subconsciously reasoning this, I decided that a nap would be very appropriate, especially since I had worked so hard this morning.  Besides, how else was an old dog like me supposed to pass the day?  What better way than napping!

V I E W
NOVEL PROJECT

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

Becky Neufeld
English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001


   Imagine, you live in New York City and you work in the World Trade Center.  Every monday through friday you go to work.  Its the same routine -- get up, get ready, and go to work.  Your walk to work is the same every day.  You say hi to the same people every day.  When you get to work, you ride the elevator until you get to your floor.  Then you work all day and go home.
   Imagine, one Tuesday you wake up and think "another day", but what you don't know is that this day will change your whole life.  You get ready and head out for work.  You chat with your friends along the way.  You arrive and work for a little while, thenyou go for a coffee break at a nearby cafe.  While you're on your coffee break a plane crashes into the Twin Towers.  When you hear this, you jump up to go outside.  You start heading back to the building, but as you arrive the building collapses.  A big chunk of the tower is coming right for you.  Many things go through your mind... flashes with thoughts of your family, friends, and co-workers.  You think about the things you would change - how you would love your family more, be more caring, share the gospel, accept the gospel, or play with your kids more.  Then the chunk of the tower falls on you ...
and you die.

V I E W
NOVEL PROJECT

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

Christy Carter
English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001

  Being a member of a gang, ya should expect something like this ta happen.  If yuure out sellin' your stash on the wrong side of town, ya can expect to run into trouble.  Someone is goin' ta come bust a cap in yuure behind.  And THAT's exactly what happened to me.  
  Let me tell ya what went through my head from the first time I saw that silver car pull up around the corner.  When I saw it slow down, I knew what was gonna happen.
  The only thing I regret 'bout the situation was that I froze and caught that hot lead!  When I realized I'd been hit and it was me that hit the ground, I felt the pain in my stomach much more than I could bare.
  I wanted to roll around on the ground, thinking that that would take away the pain, but I couldn't.
  One of the guys from the gang was puttin' pressure on the wound and that kept me quite still.  As things began to fuzz, I heard him tell me not to die.  I wanted to say I wouldn't...  that I would live just for him, 
but then I died.

V I E W
NOVEL PROJECT

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

Ashley Forrest

English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001

  Flames burst from the roof of the huge mansion-style house, as I, Puss'n'Boots, strutted my stuff on the fence, parallel to the house.  The owner ALWAYS kicked me off his proch -- what a mean and miserable man!  Only concentrating on his precious house.
  Well, now, lets see!  I could go and purrrrrr really REALLY loud to awaken that man, to get him out of his burning house? But, nooooooooo way! Why should I, perrrrfect and beautiful Puss'n'Boots get MY hair a choking, smokish smell?
  Just as I pondered MORRRRE on this topic, I saw the miserable man look out his window in horror.  Now then he obviously was in a perdicament.  I,THE Puss'n'Boots should try to save him.
Well,
I
will --
There's always forgiveness.
  As I strut my stuff over there, I will make sure he knows that I am going to save him.  Then I will be the FAMOUS Ms. Puss'n'Boots!
  Now that I have reached the lawn, he surely knows that I am his HERO.  
What?
Big red trucks?
NO! --
It's MY job to save that miserable man!
There is absolutely NO way those guys in those UGLY yellow suits are going to save him.  It's just not going to happen.
  They're breaking down the door - but I know that I can beat then up to his room.  This will be a piece of cake --
wait!
  This smoke is really thick... I can't breathe.

NO!

I can't pass out... Mr. Puss'n'Boots would be SOOOO
lonely.  My head is spinning, I'm going to be sick.  SOmebody pick me up!

NO!

Don't step on me!



WOW!
You picked me up!  Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! 

Fresh air and

I'm alive!

V I E W
NOVEL PROJECT

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

Harmony J. Brant
English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001

   I woke up that morning, like any other morning.  Time to go collect food for the colony.  As I made my way to the surface, I wondered what the day would be like.  What?  The anthill was gone!  All our hard work.  Yikes!!
   There's something blocking the sun.  It's coming down toward me.  As I dive back into the hole an earthquake struck, then fell away like an echo...
   This was a first for me, considering I was a young anty.  I visited the queen, my mother, to see if she had felt the shaking.  She explained to me that the thing blocking the sun was a human foot.  That is the main danger for an ant, she explained.
   I headed out with a bit more caution than usual.  The other young ants and I teamed together to carry those huge dark crumbs of sweetness.  Eventually, we had enough of it down below in tiny bite size pieces.  My mother tod me this was the good side of humans.  They leave us yummy treats.  After our day of collecting and eating we go back to our dorms to sleep.  
   I recently graduated from the nursery.  This room is more fun!  We settled into our bunks for the night and dreamed of the sweet treats we might find in our scavaging the next day.

V I E W
NOVEL PROJECT

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

Austin Brister
English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001

   Once upon a time, there was a bug.  This bug, he was a big bug.  He was a big UGLY bug.  He was also a big ugly, STUPID bug.  His name was Mr. S-T-U-P-I-D.  He was so heavy, his wings couldn't support his large body.  
   All Mr. Stupid could do was fly from one flower to another and then he was pooped, so he would have to stop and rest on the flower.  The only thing is, he was so heavy that he would bend your average flower around and fall flippin' back, on his back, flappin' his little wings.  Then he would have to buzzzzz his little wings, so he could get flipped over...
   Then he would  start flying again... get about three feet... and stop.
   In his little buzzing trips, he saw a lot of the country.  He saw big ugly bears.  He swa little cute deer.  He saw adorable little ducks.  He saw all sorts of cute little animals.
   One day, he was buzzing around and he unknowingly was heading toward the highway.  As he got closer to the highway he heard these HUGE bugs passing by.  When he got there he saw how FAST they were going.  Thewn he was like WOWed. They were neat!
   "They are ALL different colors" he said to himself.  "I want to catch up with one and talk to him..."
   SO, Mr. Stupid started out, goin' as fast as he could. Until one of those colorful big "bugs" came up behind him really fast!
   "Oh NO!!!", he said, and that was was the last thing he got out as he slatted on the shinny window of the speeding car.
   As the driver turned on his wiper blade to clean up the mess he thought, "that was dumb".

V I E W
SAMPLE CHAPTER

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

Nate Dunnican
English Writing Assignment
Thursday, Sept 27, 2001

   Pretend!  You are on an 18 wheeler, driving down Route 67, ding 75 mph.  As you are cruising along, a june bug is crossing the road.   It was just hatched three days ago.
   Baaam!
   The truck windshield is COVERED with the guts of the bug, so the truck driver puts on his windshield wiper.  As the driver thinks to himself, "...how dumb bugs always get in the way," the life of a harmless june bug was needlessly taken.
   Now, I ask you to be that bug in the last scene of its life.  Try to imagine buzzing along on a hot muggy summer day.  Then all of a sudden you see this trucker moving along!  
   As you see this truck coming, your buggy life flashes before your eyes.  Frrom when you hatched out of your little egg to your first buggy girl friend, from graduating to college till you got married to the bug of your dreams.  Then you see the end!
   Your final exit, the last life flashes before your eyes, but it's not dreaming... it's real.
   WOuld you have wanted to change anything?  Would you have done anything different if you could re-live your life.  Which bug would you have cared about when you were about to die?  So as you ask yourself these questions, I challenge you to seize the day; 
Carpe Diem!

V I E W
SAMPLE CHAPTER

HERE

LOOK AT ALL TITLES

V I E W
SAMPLE CHAPTER HERE