From my notebook:

My boots make a clip-clop as I hurry across the wet cobblestones. A honk sounds; a car skids around the corner as I hop up onto the curb, but, after processing the fact that I was nearly run over, I continue on my way, my long, dirty blond hair plastered to my thin face.
I stare down at my feet as I walk briskly, almost shoving my fellow pedestrians in my haste. The rain, pouring down in sheets, isn't keeping people inside. It's early Monday  morning and everyone is on their way to work or school. In fact, I should be, too.
And, according to  my family, I'm on the bus, chattering away happily to my best friend Liz.
But I'm not.
This morning is different, I think as I wait impatiently for the walking man. I check my watch and curse. 7:49. I have to be there at 8:00. Sharp.
The light changes, and I hurry across the uneven street. Shakily, hurriedly, I reached into the pocket of my pale pink jeans and unfolded a piece of paper. 
The note
It said:
To Rebecca Hawthorne,
Meet me at 8:00 sharp
Monday the 5th of June
At the telephone booth on 62nd and Henley


to be continued...

Mysteries

                What controls you?  What controls me?  We do.  Our brains do.  But what controls what goes on inside our body?  When we get a fever it is our body’s way of defending against viruses, by heating up our body.  But something must be telling our body to heat itself up.  Does our body have a mind of its own?

            We are told to have five senses, but that is not true.  Seeing, hearing, smelling, touching, tasting.  And one more.  Our imagination.

            What is going on when we think?  Are millions of brain cells working together to make us have an imaginary set of senses, completely different than the real world?  We may find those answers.  We may know some of them already.  But countless things are still outside of our knowledge, waiting to be discovered. 

demon child

The first day I saw my little sister at first when I was young I thought she was cute and cuddly like a teddy bear. Now when I look at it her picture looks like a creature from another planet. I mean look at her 6 years
an ugly,mean,spiteful,evil devil,demon child.She was cute at first. She giggled and learned new tricks,like throwing her food across the table at my father.But as soon as  she started to talk it was all down hill
cause,heres the thing;she didn't want to talk about her own thoughts,she only wanted to intake what I said.
I have no idea how she figured it out,but by a year she would literally copy every word out of my mouth.

And here's the thing I couldn't deny that the girl was smater than me way smater. That is my little sister,I dont know what I was thinking but she's not smater than me, because I have more common sense. Maybe oneday,but not today,tomorrow,next week,or next year,maybe never. She might be able to copy me but I have her number.There's nothing like the real thing. No repeats.

Also, since we're READERS as well as writers, what are y'all reading these days?

Amanda's post inspired me: Do you have any cures for writer's block? Leave your reply in the comments section!

Fly, Fly, above and beyond the world. Abandoning all of my troubles and worries. A different world, a different time, a whole new life. Becoming the universe, the stars, and the planets. But down there, you have to be living, feeling emotions, being alive, being real. Up here, there's no meaning of life, there's not the hard truth of reality, you can fly and soar free. And spread your wings. Your in the world of beyond.        

Writers Block.
Its a wall in your creativity part in your brain.
The pencil lays on the paper. My fingers want to move. But my brain wont let me. 
Writers block.
Think! What to write about! Must be somthing!
Writers block
It comes and goes,
-Amanda Arias

My interview with Elijah Daniel Johnson

by Parker Koltchak

"Well... my name was Prinston once but then my parents kinda changed it."

that was the exact quoting that Elijah Daniel Johnson. 

Elijah is Elijah now, and that is not what people just call him. His name was originally Prinston Daniel Johnston, then his parents legally changed it when he was only 3. That is so so so cool! I mean, who else gets their name changed, especially at age three! I found this super interesting, and though he did not tell em this during the interview, he informed me not a while later while showing me his instagram account. it said "prinstonjohnston", so I questioned him about it. he told me it was changed from Prinston to Elijah when he was three, and I found that really really cool.

thanks Elijah, for the information!

Profile Example

Want to see a good profile example? Check this out: http://cubreporters.org/gilde

And want some advice? Here's some good profile writing advice: http://cubreporters.org/sample_profiles

it

it is a 6th grader at M.S. 51. it was interviewed by me.
ME: What is your favorite video game?
it: Skylanders
Me: What are your favorite movies?
it: Hugo and Life of Pi.
Me: Would you duplicate yourself if possible?
it: Yes, but not an exact duplicate.

Made by the mind

The human body is a marvel of nature. An even bigger marvel is the human mind. Think about it. The first humans, modern humans, and you and I all have a thing in common. The mind, that which evolves with the body itself. Everything know today was not made by the hands, but made by the maker's mind. So why do we say things originated from a country, when in truth, they were made from the mind?

My world is made of purple. 

purple is the tunes of the swift music I come from

the air, my first step, chicken nuggets,

are all purple.

but purple is also grey, yellow, and red

and those times when you're eleven, but you want to be six again, or when your six and you wanna be 3 again.

Purple is sad and happy all rolled up into one.

purple is all my experiences; Roller coasters,

asparagus (ewww), or even learning how to tie a shoe.

purple is my life, and 

that

will

never 

change

   By Isabel Palma class 608  
     
     "How about... Sammy." The teacher said, in her teacher-like voice. What? I looked up from dozing. Boy, I was gonna get it now. I stood up, and walked slowly to the blackboard. Bad punishments crossed my mind. "Well," she said, putting her hands on her wide hips. "Are you gonna show us the answer, or what?" Giggles came from the class. "I-"I start. "No buts," she says. more giggles. I stared at the blackboard, feeling eager eyes in the back of my head. Picking up the chalk, I drew a line. Under the line I wrote my name. On top of the line, I wrote detention. I closed my eyes and moved out of the way, so the whole class could see. All of the class roared with laughter."Thank you." the teacher said."I'll see you at 3:00. I put my head down, and walked to my desk. Heads spinned my way. Come and get me, I thought.

     After school, I use the phone to call Mama to come pick me up late. She was not surprised to hear what had happened."Detention again?" She murmured, before I could even say something. "Yes mam" I whispered. "Your a bad son of mine, you know that?" she said, her voiced muffled. "yes mam" I say again.
"Good, then I'll be there at 4." She said. And the conversation ended.

     So now here I am staring at the blackboard, in my own desk, at 3:00. Mrs.Crock walks into the room. hello Sammy," she says. "Hello mam," I croak to Mrs.Crock. She smiles an evil smile. "Don't mind me!" She says
"I'll be back to unlock you at 4:50." She smiles, and walks out of the room, locking the door behind her. I sigh, and think about what I should be doing right now. A huge water balloon fight with Eddy, and Mike, and Pat. We were supposed to gang up on the girls, and soak their dresses! I hope their having fun without me.

Mama picked me up from school just like she promised, at 4:00. I was actually kinda relieved to see her. When we were walking home, we didn't say anything to each other. But I passed my friend Jill, and said hi. Mama and I passed the rest of the school, too. on the wall was a painted picture of a cross. It was kinda worn off, and I was tired of looking at it. I didn't say anything until we got home. "I wanna go to the rich kid school," I say.

I try...

by Parker Koltchak

I'm a good artist, spelling champion, good student!!!

I try to reassure myself. But... I'll never have a good life. No one can have a good life, no friends, sitting, always alone, in an almost empty room, one window, one desk, one chair, one chalkboard. 

No one will be there for me!

 I will be there for me! I desperately hold on to that. 

I'm alone, alone, I'll always be alone, alone, alone... the word echos in my head...

But that doesn't mean you're lonely! I tell myself, frustrated. 

you're crying, crying, always sad, upset, lonely, lonely, crying, sad, furious...

"AAARRRGGHHHHH!!!" I scream, angrily erasing the picture of momma and dadda. They are dead, don't remind me of them...

stop, stop...  I am crying now, tears running down my face...

I try so hard...

 

 

                                                                Miss you, Miss you               McKenzie Days


 I just wanted to say, I miss you, I miss you more than anything in the world right now. Being forgotten and
hated... your my only hope. It always seemed like I was drowning from my own sorrow, choking from my
own tears, abandoned by life. And I need you right now. I want you right here with me, by my side. It
always seemed like I was all alone. But you taught me its okay, not to be okay.You always brighten my day,
and you make me smile like no one else. I couldn't survive without you. And Its all because of you, I'm even
here right now. You mean the world to me. And I love you, forever and always.

Dreams

 Every bridge or road leads to somewhere. The question is where they lead. Whether they lead to Hell or Heaven, it is impossible to see the same path twice. Nor will you ever be in the same destination. So how do we know where we want to go? I chose the path of light. The one path I never followed before...

  Where am I? A school? My vision blurs. But then it clears and I see... I can't be sure what it is. But then everything unfolds like origami. It's a classroom.
"Hello?" I ask the teacher. No response. Then it becomes clear that no one can hear me. Am I a ghost? No, that's not right. I felt alive a moment ago....

I'm real again. No longer immaterial. There is a poster that says "Come and get me." What does it mean? I ignore it because I don't know what it says. I feel a push. It's a man with two other people. Obviously a lame excuse for a gang.
"Outta my way, kid," one said. "My turf."
"Where were you when they were passing out brains?" another spat. The disgusting pieces of trash.
"Where were you?" I snarled. a pressure eeps out. The three men trembled in fear. Darkness swallowed me. the last thing I saw was the three men disintegrating, vanishing into nothing but atoms. I.. did that. Yes it all becomes clear now. I 'm a demon, and this is my dream world. What a nice sentiment. A demon drifting in a dream. it doesn't matter now that I'm falling away into another dream.

Water. Sweet water. I'm drifting through it in a sleep. I hear everything above. It disturbs the silence. I wish for them to disappear and they do. I drift until my eyes open. I'm standing. On the essence of my existence. I dream of drifting and solitude. I dream of soaring to the sky. I close my eyes and dream. I open them once the sound of silence becomes unbearable......

Never sure

by Parker Koltchak

 

If I were a train, my tracks would always be crossed. Never straight, always wiggly. So many directions to choose from. Like-- should I take up the chance to be popular like Jess or Amy? Or should I stick with Annie and Kelly? Or should I be one of the sporty kids, tomboyish, always wanting to be one of the guys? Or emo, punk rock,always kinda quiet? All of the offers stuck with me when I went to bed the night I did something amazing, so amazing now everyone wants to be my friend. A part of me wants to stay with Annie and Kelly, because Jess and Amy are kind of mean. But Jess and Amy could make me... Cool! I always have to decide things, but I am never sure... Sometimes I feel... I shouldn't have done my amazing thing... even though it saved someones life... I'm just never sure...

THE CHICKEN IN MY BEDROOM

by Parker Koltchak

 first we lived in a small apartment

my sister

my mom

and my dad

we were happy there

our little 2 roomed house

small

but big enough

and every night

I would always wake up to the chicken in my bedroom

or

it seemed like always

maybe it was

a lot

or

a little

or just once

but it seemed like always

so I loved our little apartment

and I loved that chicken

that visited my bedroom.

every night

I fed 

and pet

my chicken 
every night
the chicken sat on my lap
and I read to him
or 
I tried to
I mostly looked at the pictures
and pretended
but he liked it
just the same
the chicken
that visited
my special apartment. 

In The Noise

My house was not silent

Not silent at all

There was screaming and shouting and anger in the air

And the bang bang bangs as doors slammed

And the silent sobbing that sounded through the walls

My house was not silent

Not silent at all

Though I wish it be silent

Only sometimes

Because there was good noise

Like my mother telling me she loves me

 Or my dad telling me exciting stories when he was actually home

Or hearing my brother laugh as he watched TV

There was good noise

I love good noise

And buried in the bad noise was love and kindness

Like how my mother and my dad tried not to fight in front of their four and six year olds

And how they stayed together to try to make sure their babies had a good childhood

And that showed love

And that was all we ever needed

Because one day

One day

The fighting ended

The rings were sold

And everything was perfect

Everything was perfect

So sometimes in the bad noise

There is good noise

You just have to listen