It was September 11, at approximately 8:30 a.m in Manhattan, New York. I heard my alarm clock go off. I had to wake up. "Ahh!!" I sighed with a tired voice. "It is a beautiful day." I looked outside the window to find a sunny, bright morning. It just looked beautiful; the sky was clear, and birds were singing and flying free in the sky. Despite the beauty all around, I had a strange, nagging feeling in my stomach. I shook it off and went about my morning.
All my neighbors were getting ready to go to work like they do everyday. What could I say about the Twin Towers? They were beautiful, tall, standing next to each other, and busy like always. I knew that because I went there almost everyday since one of my sisters worked there
I went to the kitchen so I could eat some breakfast and drink a cup of coffee. I started to make the grocery store list, that's what I was going to do later that day. I was on a vacation. I was excited to be on vacation, but I could never have known how lucky I would be.
All of the sudden, I heard a tremendously loud noise outside my house. I was really scared. Right when I heard that sound, I remembered the feeling that I had earlier that morning. I suddenly knew that something was going to happen to my family or even to New York City, but I had no idea what.
I looked outside my window again, but this time I saw smoke pouring from one of the Twin Towers. It looked really different from what I had seen when I first looked out at the window. Before it was sunny, with bright, clean air, but now it looked like it was midnight. It was dark and smoke covered the sun.
I ran to the tv to watch the news and try to figure out what had happened. I learned that an airplane had hit one of the towers. The news broadcasters seemed as confused as me. A lot of questions hung in the air like the smoke from the towers. How did this happen? Who is doing this? Where were these airplanes from? Why was this happening?
Suddenly, my house phone was ringing. The caller ID said it was Sandra's number. I could almost hear the phone beg me to answer. "Hello?" I said.
"Did you heard that loud noise?" asked Sandra.
"Yeah, it was really scary!" I proclaimed.
"My boss just called me to get to the World Trade Center, so I could help get people out of there," her voice sounded terrified. She is one of my older sisters, and I love her a lot. When I was a child, she took care of me when my mom couldn't. So I was pretty nervous. If something happened to her it would be like losing my mother all over again. Since I'm the youngest of my two sisters, they have always taken care of me. I had never thought about Sandra being a firefighter before, but suddenly I wanted her to be anything else but that.
"Please be really careful out there. I wish you didn't have to go. Just remember that I love you, and I look up to you as my mother. I appreciate that you have always taken great care of me. I don't know what I would do if something happens to you," I was surprised at my emotion.
Sandra laughed at me. She was always so good in bad situations. "I will be fine. It will be already. I love you too! Try to call Susan and make sure she is alright! OK?"
"I will. Bye," I replied with a scared and nervous voice. I thought about my sister Susan. She worked on the tenth floor. I had not heard from her yet. A lot of questions came to my mind, Is she OK? Where is she right now? Is she evacuating? I was terrified and I did not know what to predict for this day. My strange feeling from this morning seemed to be coming true.
5 hours later!
When we got to the World Trade Center Towers there was nothing left. I realized that the only thing left from the Twin Towers was broken glasses from the windows and paper floating about. I had come to find my sister Sandra; I needed to find her. She had to be O.K. I saw ambulances, fire fighters, police cars and a lot of people laying on the ground. There were puddles of blood, and death seemed to be all around. I was scared and sad for all of these people and their families. But I maintained hope that Sandra and Susan were not dead. They couldn't be.
As I looked around, I was suddenly terrified. I did not know what to do. The only sound I could hear was people screaming and crying. Mourning the death of their family members were lost inside. They were just like me, and I didn't want anyone to have to deal with the death of a family member. I felt guilty thinking only of my two lovely sisters. I really hoped they were alive. If something has happened to them, I would really feel badly for their daughters and sons. "Please," I said aloud, "Please let them be alive."
While I was standing outside in the ruins of the Twin Towers, I felt guilty that I wasn't as close to Susan as I should have been. If something happened to her inside the Twin Towers, I would have not have the chance to tell her how much I loved her. I would not be able to let her know how much I would miss her. I realized how much was unsaid. How much I should have told her while she was living. I began to cry.
Suddenly, I saw a firefighter coming out of the dust. He was running with my sister Susan in his arms. As soon as I noticed it was my sister, I ran toward her as fast as I could despite the fact I had to be really careful not to step on the metal and hurt my feet. I felt like they were burning, but I didn't really care about myself right now the only person I could of think right now was my sister Susan. As soon as I got in front of her, I noticed that her face looked terrible. It was all black, and I wondered if it was because of all the black smoke that was in the towers. Her eyes were closed; I hoped she was still alive but I feared they were dead. When I looked down, I noticed that my sister's arm was broken and one of her legs was hanging at a weird angle. This made me sad and upset because I wondered if she was going to be able to walk ever again. If she was going to be able to grab things by herself with that arm that she was broken inside the terrible towers. I felt one tear slide down my cheek, then it was not one tear but many. They were tears of relieve mixed with worry. I was relieved to see Susan, but where was Sandra? There were lots of them.
"We gotta get her inside the ambulance! Will you go with her the hospital? I need to get back to the site," the firefighter asked in a loud voice.
As we were loading her into the ambulance, Sandra ran up to us. "Is it really you? I cannot believe that you are both OK!" Sandra jumped into the ambulance with Susan.
Susan's daughter, my niece, met us at the hospital. We were worried and nervous, both of us feeling guilty for not showing more love to Susan. We promised each other that that would change. After a really long wait, the nurse came and told us that we could go in to her room. We raced into her room. I realized she was the most important person in our lives right now! When we got in the room, my sister was still sleeping. My niece sat down in a rocking chair next to her. I just stared at my sister. It worried me how her face looked. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, one at a time. I felt like my heart was going to explode from happiness!
"How are you feeling?" I asked with a worried voice.
"I'm feeling a little bad and tired, but better than when I was inside the towers," she answered weakly. "Where is my daughter?" my sister asked in a worried voice.
I squeezed her hand and said, "She's right here. We are both right here."
By: Danicia
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Life or Death? That is the Question ~by Tomi
"Life or Death? That is The Question."
As the sun began to warm the brisk morning air, the city people could feel the tension between every gladiator; this had not happened for at least one hundred and fifty years. This was no ordinary day. Zeavsulo would fight his brother in a battle to the death. As Zeavsulo put his cloths around his calves, he felt anxious and scared. He cried, letting the hot tears roll down his face and fall down to the dirt below him. As he put on his shoulder plate, his brother Kivris walked in wearing his own armor. "Do not worry about the coming battle, the outcome will be horrid for both of us. There will be no winner." They embraced knowing it would be their last time together. Zeavsulo was forced to fight his brother because of the death of an innocent citizen. He was wrongly accused of killing the man. He was a witness, but he was not the killer.
The gladiators were huddled in corners, the air in the room wreaked of tobacco. The word spread like the Plague of Black Death.
"Brothers have to fight each other in a fight to the death. Which one will die?" It was all people could talk about.
A few gladiators that were by the commons door heard a voice that seemed to come from just around the corner "This way, NOW! You two, don't you even try to escape from me. I am a guard, if you escape I will be the one who is in trouble, serious trouble." Two great bangs were heard just seconds after he stopped speaking to the two men. When the door opened, two men were pushed through the threshold, their hands cuffed together. As the guard turned them around, someone gasped and yelled out, "It's Zeavsulo and Kivris, poor old chaps." When everyone realized who the brothers were, they bowed their heads in honor.
The battle began. Their swords clashed, sending sparks out like fireworks. In the gladiator world, Kivris was a Secutor, also called the "chaser". Zeavsulo was a Retarius and more mobile, but he was more vulnerable to serious wounds. The crowd was wild, wine sloshing out of their goblets, spanikopita whizzing through the air as plentiful as a migration of birds on a cold fall day.
Zeavsulo swung, but Kivris blocked the blow. Zeavsulo swung again; Kivris wasn't as fast as the last time. His head was sliced off cleanly enough that his neck stub was not bleeding, and his head was sitting in the dirt as if he was buried in the sand. The Colosseum, which seconds earlier was buzzing with excitement and entertainment, was now quiet as a field mouse hiding from a hawk. In one stroke, Kivris was a headless gladiator. The sickening feeling in Zeavsulos' stomach grew into a death wish. That was the last time he saw his brother.
The following night, Zeavsulo had a very peculiar dream indeed. He climbed onto his cot. As he looked up, he fell back on to the coarse ground, a vivid hallucination was hovering just three feet away from Zeavsulo. The figure was covered by a cloak, it's face was darkened by shadows.
The figure moved closer,
"W-w-who a-are y--y-you?" Zeavsulo whispered in a coarse voice. "W-w-what d-do y-you want f-from m-me?"
The second the vision touched Zeavsulos foot, the hood flipped back revealing his brother. The ghost of Kivris let out a tremendous scream and faded into nothingness.
Then the dream segued into a battle. The sound of the clashing swords was deafening. Zeavsulo's heart skipped a beat, and he knew one little move would cost him greatly. He took his chances; one move to the left, one to the right, and a blow to finish his opponent off. However, he missed a valuable step and fell to the ground. Then a gut-wrenching pain flew through his leg. The next thing he knew, the gladius was at his neck...
Zeavsulo woke with a start; and he noticed that his hands were clenched and his heart was beating wildly. The blanket was wrapped around him tightly; he could not breathe. He pulled himself out of the blanket cocoon, easing his breathing. The loss of his brother turned him into cut twine. He knew that once twine was cut, you can never fully put the two parts back together.
One week later, the games began. Out in the back of the Colosseum, the barracks were built to house the new slaves who had qualified as gladiators. The date was April 25, 245 B.C, but Zeavsulo was oblivious to the date or the festivities since his brother's death. Zeavsulo was walking sullenly to his tent. As he walked through the many rows of tents he heard someone mumbling and laughing insanely. Why is he talking to himself? Or...is he... insane? Zeavsulo wondered. He looked in to find the sourse of the noise.
The candle cast a shadow on the wall of the barrack creating a ghostly twin of Junged. Junged was Zeavsulo's cousin. Junged had became a gladiator without Zeavsulo's knowing. Junged slowly un-sheathed his sword, bringing it up to his neck. He pulled back the sword and sliced his own neck like butter. Junged's depression began after his wife was killed before him. It grew as he was brutally dragged off to the Collosseum to be a gladiator. It finally got to a point where it was like a dam too weak and cracked, spilling all of the contents on the city below it. In the last moments of his life, he fell over, knocking the candle over on his desk. Zeavsulo heard the groan of a dying man and ran from the tent.
The tent was on fire. A guard heard a noise and walked around the corner and saw the tent where Junged had died engulfed in flame. Zeavsulo was standing in front of it stunned. He looked like a guilty man.
The guard ran to get him. When he grabbed Zeavsulo, he called for help.
"Someone, someone help me! Murder. Murder!" He told of finding Zeavsulo in front of the tent, half of it was burnt, the other half holding a corpse with singed hair. He slowly walked forward, then he saw a slice mark on his neck, blood spattered on his front.
"I know you did this, you little worm, you can't wriggle out of this one! Heh, heh, heh."
Zeavsulo vomited on the ground before himself when it dawned on him that he was being accused of the murder of his cousin. He heard footsteps behind him coming closer, he looked back, and he saw the Emperor was walking his way with three other guards.
"Get over here boy!" yelled the Emperor, "You will be dealt with very inhumanely if you don't cooperate, but if you do, we will be easier on you."
Where am i? Why is it so dark? Why are they doing this to me?
A rough echoing voice rumbled, "We are keeping you here until further notice."
"Who is we?" No answer.
A blinding light flashed into the giant iron room. Zeavsulo looked down at his wrists, they were chained together, the metal on the cuffs was slowly but effectively cutting into his skin. A large, gruff man walked toward him, grabbed his cuffs and pulled him up to his feet. "Where are we going?" asked
Zeavsulo.
"You are fighting another gladiator today," the man grumbled. The rest Zeavsulo could not hear because he was mumbling, "I hope you don't get as lucky this time."
The crowd was roaring as the two gladiators stepped upon the blood coated dirt. The Emperor yelled, "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!!" The two gladiators were locked in combat. In a matter of five minutes Zeavsulo was pinned down, at the opponents mercy. Zeavsulo and the other gladiator both looked at the Emperor, the Emperor gave him a thumbs up. Just as the opponent brought his gladius up, Zeavsulo heard a suffocated moan. Zeavsulo looked up and saw an arrow through the mans chest. Zeavsulo looked up into the crowd to see anyone who could be the culprit, then he saw a figure in a black cloak running down the aisles towards the exit.
"GET HIM" the Emperor yelled. But it was too late, the man had escaped. In all the chaos, Zeavsulo found out a way to escape the Colosseum without being noticed. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him searching for a place to hide, a barn, a shed, anywhere. After what seemed to be an hour, he finally found an old abandoned shack. Zeavsulo walked in, then was startled by a voice.
"Who are you, and what do you want from me?"
"I almost got killed in the gladiator arena, but I was saved by someone in a black cloak. He shot the other gladiator." Zeavsulo replied as he turned around to look for the owner of the voice. When the man saw Zeavsulos face he gasped and spoke
"You, you are the gladiator I saved in the stupid gladiator games?" As he called out the revealing sentence, he jumped out of the loft just above Zeavsulo.
"You were the man in the black cloak?" Zeavsulo questioned. "What is your name?"
"My name is Midnock. I didn't want you to die."
"But why? Did you know that I had to kill my brother?" yelled Zeavsulo
"Yes I did."replied Midnock
"I was depressed, I wanted to die right then and there," replied the tormented Zeavsulo before falling into a deep sleep.
One week later, Zeavsulo and Midnock were quite at home together, not fighting, not arguing. Zeavsulo was getting over his depression little by little. The two were in the middle of an intense conversation about the Emperors past and present when there was a tremendous bang and a yell.
"THERE THEY ARE!!" the roman soldiers yelled out."GET THEM!!"
Zeavsulo and Midnock were running around the room in a panic. Zeavsulo was tackled, but punched the soldier in the nose and heard a scream. Target hit. Zeavsulo heard Midnock yelling his name.
"Zeavsulo! Zeavsulo help!" As Zeavsulo ran to find Midnock, he felt great pressure on his hands and looked back to see a soldier putting cuffs on his hands. Oh crap, not these again. The next thing Zeavsulo knew was together with Midnock again. They were moving and the ride was really bumpy. He saw that he was in a cage. "I think we are going to the Emperor."
After a short time they arrived in front of the Emperor. "Have you decided what you are goi..."
The Emperor interupted the guard half way between his sentence. "Yes I have. To the guillotine for both of them." NO, NO, NO! "You can't do this to me!" Zeavsulo wailed. They were dragged to the dungeons where the guillotines were located. They had their heads fitted to the hole. "STOP! NO PLEASE!" yelled Midnock and Zeavsulo in a harmony. The blade was pulled up, no mercy. Then dropped. Zeavsulo was now in his happy place, right next to Midnock, his only true friend.
By: Tomi
As the sun began to warm the brisk morning air, the city people could feel the tension between every gladiator; this had not happened for at least one hundred and fifty years. This was no ordinary day. Zeavsulo would fight his brother in a battle to the death. As Zeavsulo put his cloths around his calves, he felt anxious and scared. He cried, letting the hot tears roll down his face and fall down to the dirt below him. As he put on his shoulder plate, his brother Kivris walked in wearing his own armor. "Do not worry about the coming battle, the outcome will be horrid for both of us. There will be no winner." They embraced knowing it would be their last time together. Zeavsulo was forced to fight his brother because of the death of an innocent citizen. He was wrongly accused of killing the man. He was a witness, but he was not the killer.
The gladiators were huddled in corners, the air in the room wreaked of tobacco. The word spread like the Plague of Black Death.
"Brothers have to fight each other in a fight to the death. Which one will die?" It was all people could talk about.
A few gladiators that were by the commons door heard a voice that seemed to come from just around the corner "This way, NOW! You two, don't you even try to escape from me. I am a guard, if you escape I will be the one who is in trouble, serious trouble." Two great bangs were heard just seconds after he stopped speaking to the two men. When the door opened, two men were pushed through the threshold, their hands cuffed together. As the guard turned them around, someone gasped and yelled out, "It's Zeavsulo and Kivris, poor old chaps." When everyone realized who the brothers were, they bowed their heads in honor.
The battle began. Their swords clashed, sending sparks out like fireworks. In the gladiator world, Kivris was a Secutor, also called the "chaser". Zeavsulo was a Retarius and more mobile, but he was more vulnerable to serious wounds. The crowd was wild, wine sloshing out of their goblets, spanikopita whizzing through the air as plentiful as a migration of birds on a cold fall day.
Zeavsulo swung, but Kivris blocked the blow. Zeavsulo swung again; Kivris wasn't as fast as the last time. His head was sliced off cleanly enough that his neck stub was not bleeding, and his head was sitting in the dirt as if he was buried in the sand. The Colosseum, which seconds earlier was buzzing with excitement and entertainment, was now quiet as a field mouse hiding from a hawk. In one stroke, Kivris was a headless gladiator. The sickening feeling in Zeavsulos' stomach grew into a death wish. That was the last time he saw his brother.
The following night, Zeavsulo had a very peculiar dream indeed. He climbed onto his cot. As he looked up, he fell back on to the coarse ground, a vivid hallucination was hovering just three feet away from Zeavsulo. The figure was covered by a cloak, it's face was darkened by shadows.
The figure moved closer,
"W-w-who a-are y--y-you?" Zeavsulo whispered in a coarse voice. "W-w-what d-do y-you want f-from m-me?"
The second the vision touched Zeavsulos foot, the hood flipped back revealing his brother. The ghost of Kivris let out a tremendous scream and faded into nothingness.
Then the dream segued into a battle. The sound of the clashing swords was deafening. Zeavsulo's heart skipped a beat, and he knew one little move would cost him greatly. He took his chances; one move to the left, one to the right, and a blow to finish his opponent off. However, he missed a valuable step and fell to the ground. Then a gut-wrenching pain flew through his leg. The next thing he knew, the gladius was at his neck...
Zeavsulo woke with a start; and he noticed that his hands were clenched and his heart was beating wildly. The blanket was wrapped around him tightly; he could not breathe. He pulled himself out of the blanket cocoon, easing his breathing. The loss of his brother turned him into cut twine. He knew that once twine was cut, you can never fully put the two parts back together.
One week later, the games began. Out in the back of the Colosseum, the barracks were built to house the new slaves who had qualified as gladiators. The date was April 25, 245 B.C, but Zeavsulo was oblivious to the date or the festivities since his brother's death. Zeavsulo was walking sullenly to his tent. As he walked through the many rows of tents he heard someone mumbling and laughing insanely. Why is he talking to himself? Or...is he... insane? Zeavsulo wondered. He looked in to find the sourse of the noise.
The candle cast a shadow on the wall of the barrack creating a ghostly twin of Junged. Junged was Zeavsulo's cousin. Junged had became a gladiator without Zeavsulo's knowing. Junged slowly un-sheathed his sword, bringing it up to his neck. He pulled back the sword and sliced his own neck like butter. Junged's depression began after his wife was killed before him. It grew as he was brutally dragged off to the Collosseum to be a gladiator. It finally got to a point where it was like a dam too weak and cracked, spilling all of the contents on the city below it. In the last moments of his life, he fell over, knocking the candle over on his desk. Zeavsulo heard the groan of a dying man and ran from the tent.
The tent was on fire. A guard heard a noise and walked around the corner and saw the tent where Junged had died engulfed in flame. Zeavsulo was standing in front of it stunned. He looked like a guilty man.
The guard ran to get him. When he grabbed Zeavsulo, he called for help.
"Someone, someone help me! Murder. Murder!" He told of finding Zeavsulo in front of the tent, half of it was burnt, the other half holding a corpse with singed hair. He slowly walked forward, then he saw a slice mark on his neck, blood spattered on his front.
"I know you did this, you little worm, you can't wriggle out of this one! Heh, heh, heh."
Zeavsulo vomited on the ground before himself when it dawned on him that he was being accused of the murder of his cousin. He heard footsteps behind him coming closer, he looked back, and he saw the Emperor was walking his way with three other guards.
"Get over here boy!" yelled the Emperor, "You will be dealt with very inhumanely if you don't cooperate, but if you do, we will be easier on you."
Where am i? Why is it so dark? Why are they doing this to me?
A rough echoing voice rumbled, "We are keeping you here until further notice."
"Who is we?" No answer.
A blinding light flashed into the giant iron room. Zeavsulo looked down at his wrists, they were chained together, the metal on the cuffs was slowly but effectively cutting into his skin. A large, gruff man walked toward him, grabbed his cuffs and pulled him up to his feet. "Where are we going?" asked
Zeavsulo.
"You are fighting another gladiator today," the man grumbled. The rest Zeavsulo could not hear because he was mumbling, "I hope you don't get as lucky this time."
The crowd was roaring as the two gladiators stepped upon the blood coated dirt. The Emperor yelled, "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!!" The two gladiators were locked in combat. In a matter of five minutes Zeavsulo was pinned down, at the opponents mercy. Zeavsulo and the other gladiator both looked at the Emperor, the Emperor gave him a thumbs up. Just as the opponent brought his gladius up, Zeavsulo heard a suffocated moan. Zeavsulo looked up and saw an arrow through the mans chest. Zeavsulo looked up into the crowd to see anyone who could be the culprit, then he saw a figure in a black cloak running down the aisles towards the exit.
"GET HIM" the Emperor yelled. But it was too late, the man had escaped. In all the chaos, Zeavsulo found out a way to escape the Colosseum without being noticed. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him searching for a place to hide, a barn, a shed, anywhere. After what seemed to be an hour, he finally found an old abandoned shack. Zeavsulo walked in, then was startled by a voice.
"Who are you, and what do you want from me?"
"I almost got killed in the gladiator arena, but I was saved by someone in a black cloak. He shot the other gladiator." Zeavsulo replied as he turned around to look for the owner of the voice. When the man saw Zeavsulos face he gasped and spoke
"You, you are the gladiator I saved in the stupid gladiator games?" As he called out the revealing sentence, he jumped out of the loft just above Zeavsulo.
"You were the man in the black cloak?" Zeavsulo questioned. "What is your name?"
"My name is Midnock. I didn't want you to die."
"But why? Did you know that I had to kill my brother?" yelled Zeavsulo
"Yes I did."replied Midnock
"I was depressed, I wanted to die right then and there," replied the tormented Zeavsulo before falling into a deep sleep.
One week later, Zeavsulo and Midnock were quite at home together, not fighting, not arguing. Zeavsulo was getting over his depression little by little. The two were in the middle of an intense conversation about the Emperors past and present when there was a tremendous bang and a yell.
"THERE THEY ARE!!" the roman soldiers yelled out."GET THEM!!"
Zeavsulo and Midnock were running around the room in a panic. Zeavsulo was tackled, but punched the soldier in the nose and heard a scream. Target hit. Zeavsulo heard Midnock yelling his name.
"Zeavsulo! Zeavsulo help!" As Zeavsulo ran to find Midnock, he felt great pressure on his hands and looked back to see a soldier putting cuffs on his hands. Oh crap, not these again. The next thing Zeavsulo knew was together with Midnock again. They were moving and the ride was really bumpy. He saw that he was in a cage. "I think we are going to the Emperor."
After a short time they arrived in front of the Emperor. "Have you decided what you are goi..."
The Emperor interupted the guard half way between his sentence. "Yes I have. To the guillotine for both of them." NO, NO, NO! "You can't do this to me!" Zeavsulo wailed. They were dragged to the dungeons where the guillotines were located. They had their heads fitted to the hole. "STOP! NO PLEASE!" yelled Midnock and Zeavsulo in a harmony. The blade was pulled up, no mercy. Then dropped. Zeavsulo was now in his happy place, right next to Midnock, his only true friend.
By: Tomi
Stop Poaching! By Stefani
In the morning, it was quiet. The giraffes eat from the trees, pulling the leaves into their mouths. The restless trees swing back and forth in the breeze. It was beautiful, and the elephants were happy and proud.
BOOM!
An automatic gun exploded. The oldest male elephant fell immediately to the dusty ground. As he fell, he made a trumpeting sound. It sounded like a scream, as if he was begging for help. All the elephants left, stomping towards the forest for shelter. When the dust cleared, two elephants remained. One was a baby, and she was standing with her mom. Then, they heard the poachers screaming about their successful hunt. Both elephants hid behind a big bush because they sensed that if the hunters caught sight of them, they would die. After the hunters left with their prize, the baby elephant dashed to the male elephant and soon enough the baby realized that he had only two elephants left in his family: his mom and him. Soon enough, tear drops began to appear on both elephants' cheeks. It was as if they were crying, "Why? Why me!"
The mother elephant lifted her right foot carefully towards the male, then started to pat his tummy as gently as a feather. While the female was doing that the baby began to do a similar act, but instead of the foot he did it with his trunk. Both elephants stayed with the dying male for three days. Before the third day ended, a jeep passed by and saw the thirsty, dry, and tired elephants. There were two people in the jeep: a boy and a women named Jenny. The women immediately turned the jeep and drove towards the elephants.
They first gave the mother elephant water. "Johnny feed milk to the baby elephant," said his mother.
After the third bottle of milk was empty, Johnny begged, "Mom can we keep him? Please?" Johnny had been lonely since they moved to Africa. He was desparate for a friend, and he thought a pet elephant might do the trick!
"Maybe. Well... it's that I don't know about your dad," she said sadly because she hated to ruin the excitement in her son.
"You try to convince him for me? Or we could give him to dad as a present maybe?" replied Johnny.
"Maybe. But first I have to call some friends at the Elephant Care Center. They would tell us what to do next. It will take them a while to get back to us," she said, trying to stop Johnny from wanting it too much or getting his hopes up.
"Mommm! That is not true; it takes one week!" whined Johnny.
"We still have a problem! You can't have it as you present because it would be a late present and your father and I need to be the first one to give you a present!" moaned his mom.
"Then my birthday will be a one week later then my real birthday!" begged Johnny.
"I told you that I don't know about your dad," she repeated that line again and again. They contacts the Elephant Care Center and helped them load the grievng elephants into the trucks to take them to safety. They didn't talk about keeping them again, and when they went back home after they left the two elephant's at the Elephant Care Center, Johnny went to his room. He sat looking out his bedroom window wondering what tomorrow would hold.
The next morning, Johnny ran down the stairs to the kitchen. "Mom? Can I go check on the mother and baby elephants?" asked Johnny kindly.
"O.K.," his mom said. She loved that he was so caring.
"Did you convince dad?" Johnny whispered, hoping that the answer would be yes.
"Not yet, but I will try when you leave. Now go! He's coming, and I don't want him to know where you're going!" She replied with the most clearest and quietest whisper that Johnny could hear.
Johnny ran to the Elephant's Care Center. When he got there he saw the mother first. He asked someone that if he could feed the mother elephant some fruit and leaves. The man looked at him for 10 seconds and then said with a deep and dark voice, "Fine with me." So Johnny kept on feeding her until she was full and content. Then she slept. Johnny watched her for a while, then he began to back away, as slowly and quietly as a piece of paper floating in gentle breeze.
It was then that Johnny realized the elephants were in a good place. They were not made to be pets, they should be together. He promised that he would come and visit every day.
One day Johnny went to the Elephant Care Center to play with the baby elephant, which they had named Tambu. While Tumbu's mom slept in the red elephant house, which was like a dog house. It was 8:00 in the morning and the sun was almost all the way up in the sky. Johnny and Tambu ran and played all morning. They played tag and Tambu shot water at Johnny. Soon it was 12:00, time for lunch. As Johnny fed Tambu his lunch, he realized they had become friends. Tambu trusted Johnny - maybe even as much as his mom, which they had named Laura! Tambu had become more than his "pet", he was his friend. He talked to his elephant as if Tambu could really talk! John happily said, "This is how Africa should be, my friend, the most peaceful place I can imagine. I am so glad I get to share it with you and your mom. I wish we could have saved your father." After that he whispered this into Tumbu's large gray ears, Tambu wrapped his trunk around Johnny as if to hug him like saying thank-you for saying that. Johnny know what that meant or at least he thought that he did. So he said to Tomb, "Your welcome." Johnny went home and announced, "I have a friend now." He expect his parents to be happy but instead they looked at him like saying do you have 110˚F? Johnny ran to his room as soon as possible.
During dinner his dad asked Johnny, "Wwhat's your friend's name?" He said with a shy and nerves because his son never had a friend. Tambu he's an elephant."
"An elephant are you crazy! it could kill you!" his dad interrupted
Johnny ran to his room and soon enough he felled asleep. During breakfast it was only Johnny and his mother.
It was all silent till Johnny said,"You didn't tell him did you?" Yelling with a lot's of anger.
"No I didn't. Sorry. It's that I'm afraid." With that said Johnny's anger went away.
"Sorry I yelled at you like that. " He felt ashamed. Johnny left for school because his dad left to work more earlier then him. After school ended, he went to visit Tambu and his mother they were taking her a bath and Tambu well was just watching with a over protected look. He would yell if they got too close or bring something that is sharp or makes a loud noise that he doesn't know. Johnny always went to play with Tambu after school and volunteer to take Tambu a bath or do something little like feed him or try to teach him how to live in the wild. Sometimes when he visited he teaches him how his entire house looks like with a quick picture of it or a drawing witch is much realistic. One day before Johnny's birthday. His mom went to wake him up at 9:00 in the morning took him outside and said, "Surprise!"
By ~ Stefani
BOOM!
An automatic gun exploded. The oldest male elephant fell immediately to the dusty ground. As he fell, he made a trumpeting sound. It sounded like a scream, as if he was begging for help. All the elephants left, stomping towards the forest for shelter. When the dust cleared, two elephants remained. One was a baby, and she was standing with her mom. Then, they heard the poachers screaming about their successful hunt. Both elephants hid behind a big bush because they sensed that if the hunters caught sight of them, they would die. After the hunters left with their prize, the baby elephant dashed to the male elephant and soon enough the baby realized that he had only two elephants left in his family: his mom and him. Soon enough, tear drops began to appear on both elephants' cheeks. It was as if they were crying, "Why? Why me!"
The mother elephant lifted her right foot carefully towards the male, then started to pat his tummy as gently as a feather. While the female was doing that the baby began to do a similar act, but instead of the foot he did it with his trunk. Both elephants stayed with the dying male for three days. Before the third day ended, a jeep passed by and saw the thirsty, dry, and tired elephants. There were two people in the jeep: a boy and a women named Jenny. The women immediately turned the jeep and drove towards the elephants.
They first gave the mother elephant water. "Johnny feed milk to the baby elephant," said his mother.
After the third bottle of milk was empty, Johnny begged, "Mom can we keep him? Please?" Johnny had been lonely since they moved to Africa. He was desparate for a friend, and he thought a pet elephant might do the trick!
"Maybe. Well... it's that I don't know about your dad," she said sadly because she hated to ruin the excitement in her son.
"You try to convince him for me? Or we could give him to dad as a present maybe?" replied Johnny.
"Maybe. But first I have to call some friends at the Elephant Care Center. They would tell us what to do next. It will take them a while to get back to us," she said, trying to stop Johnny from wanting it too much or getting his hopes up.
"Mommm! That is not true; it takes one week!" whined Johnny.
"We still have a problem! You can't have it as you present because it would be a late present and your father and I need to be the first one to give you a present!" moaned his mom.
"Then my birthday will be a one week later then my real birthday!" begged Johnny.
"I told you that I don't know about your dad," she repeated that line again and again. They contacts the Elephant Care Center and helped them load the grievng elephants into the trucks to take them to safety. They didn't talk about keeping them again, and when they went back home after they left the two elephant's at the Elephant Care Center, Johnny went to his room. He sat looking out his bedroom window wondering what tomorrow would hold.
The next morning, Johnny ran down the stairs to the kitchen. "Mom? Can I go check on the mother and baby elephants?" asked Johnny kindly.
"O.K.," his mom said. She loved that he was so caring.
"Did you convince dad?" Johnny whispered, hoping that the answer would be yes.
"Not yet, but I will try when you leave. Now go! He's coming, and I don't want him to know where you're going!" She replied with the most clearest and quietest whisper that Johnny could hear.
Johnny ran to the Elephant's Care Center. When he got there he saw the mother first. He asked someone that if he could feed the mother elephant some fruit and leaves. The man looked at him for 10 seconds and then said with a deep and dark voice, "Fine with me." So Johnny kept on feeding her until she was full and content. Then she slept. Johnny watched her for a while, then he began to back away, as slowly and quietly as a piece of paper floating in gentle breeze.
It was then that Johnny realized the elephants were in a good place. They were not made to be pets, they should be together. He promised that he would come and visit every day.
One day Johnny went to the Elephant Care Center to play with the baby elephant, which they had named Tambu. While Tumbu's mom slept in the red elephant house, which was like a dog house. It was 8:00 in the morning and the sun was almost all the way up in the sky. Johnny and Tambu ran and played all morning. They played tag and Tambu shot water at Johnny. Soon it was 12:00, time for lunch. As Johnny fed Tambu his lunch, he realized they had become friends. Tambu trusted Johnny - maybe even as much as his mom, which they had named Laura! Tambu had become more than his "pet", he was his friend. He talked to his elephant as if Tambu could really talk! John happily said, "This is how Africa should be, my friend, the most peaceful place I can imagine. I am so glad I get to share it with you and your mom. I wish we could have saved your father." After that he whispered this into Tumbu's large gray ears, Tambu wrapped his trunk around Johnny as if to hug him like saying thank-you for saying that. Johnny know what that meant or at least he thought that he did. So he said to Tomb, "Your welcome." Johnny went home and announced, "I have a friend now." He expect his parents to be happy but instead they looked at him like saying do you have 110˚F? Johnny ran to his room as soon as possible.
During dinner his dad asked Johnny, "Wwhat's your friend's name?" He said with a shy and nerves because his son never had a friend. Tambu he's an elephant."
"An elephant are you crazy! it could kill you!" his dad interrupted
Johnny ran to his room and soon enough he felled asleep. During breakfast it was only Johnny and his mother.
It was all silent till Johnny said,"You didn't tell him did you?" Yelling with a lot's of anger.
"No I didn't. Sorry. It's that I'm afraid." With that said Johnny's anger went away.
"Sorry I yelled at you like that. " He felt ashamed. Johnny left for school because his dad left to work more earlier then him. After school ended, he went to visit Tambu and his mother they were taking her a bath and Tambu well was just watching with a over protected look. He would yell if they got too close or bring something that is sharp or makes a loud noise that he doesn't know. Johnny always went to play with Tambu after school and volunteer to take Tambu a bath or do something little like feed him or try to teach him how to live in the wild. Sometimes when he visited he teaches him how his entire house looks like with a quick picture of it or a drawing witch is much realistic. One day before Johnny's birthday. His mom went to wake him up at 9:00 in the morning took him outside and said, "Surprise!"
By ~ Stefani
D-Day ~by Anders
Waves crashed up against the boat. The boat softly rocked back and forth in the night. Loud sounds of other soldiers gambling and getting drunk kept me awake. Snoring kept me awake. I stayed up later and later checking my weapons and ammunition. Me, I don't know what I was thinking. Thoughts of what the day would hold swirled through my mind? Was I going to die today? No one knew.
General Eisenhower marched onto the ship. The troops were called to attention. "It's time to go," someone said to the general. He moved in front of the troops and cleared his throat. "Alright boys, the big wigs finally made up their minds. D-Day begins now! We will be part of the 82nd infantry division. The 82nd and we will be attacking Omaha Beach along with several other infantry divisions and a few tank divisions. Air support will take out panzer's and major bunkers before we land. Remember, look out for each other. I want as few of you as possible to die. Let's go."
The impact of his words were like a sledgehammer to the gullet. If we weren't scared before, we were now. Sarge led us towards our assigned position for the trip to Normandy.
Sarge, my entire regiment, and I were all scared to death as we loaded into the landing boat called a DUKW. These boats were amphibious 2 ½ ton vehicles that were both a truck and a boat. They usually usually carried supplies, but today they carried men, most to their deaths. Claustrophobia and death were racing through out our minds. Prayer was our only answer. I prayed to God to let me live, and I heard others doing the same. There was a buzzer, and it was time. It was time to rush from the boat and fight for our lives, fight for America, fight for freedom.
We were the first ship to arrive. I had no clue what to expect, what to do. I can hear the Germans firing. The bullets denting our DUKW. Suddenly the back dropped and bullets started to rain in. I was in the back of the ship, crammed into the little corner. My group and I were to scattered as we jumped out of the boat and into the water. Many soldiers never left the boat.
I jumped into the water. It was turning red. Bodies were floating in the water, lifeless. I felt like I was the last person alive. I was scared out of my wits. Despite my instincts, I swam toward shore, toward the bullets.
I ran onto the beach. Within moments, I felt something. I fell down, hurt. Clutching my hip, I saw my sarge drifting past me. Then just as quickly, he was dead. I knew I had to move away from the bloody water and death. With pain, fear, and anger in my eyes, I ran toward the Germans. Dodging bullets, I felt invincible. Finally, I dove into a bunker and found a moment of safety.
How did I get here, I thought. Why aren't my friends and Sarge protected like me? Guilt made me think I should be lying dead on the beach with them.
Starring at those angry Germans with my grenade in hand, I pulled the pin...........but it was too late.
By ~ Anders
General Eisenhower marched onto the ship. The troops were called to attention. "It's time to go," someone said to the general. He moved in front of the troops and cleared his throat. "Alright boys, the big wigs finally made up their minds. D-Day begins now! We will be part of the 82nd infantry division. The 82nd and we will be attacking Omaha Beach along with several other infantry divisions and a few tank divisions. Air support will take out panzer's and major bunkers before we land. Remember, look out for each other. I want as few of you as possible to die. Let's go."
The impact of his words were like a sledgehammer to the gullet. If we weren't scared before, we were now. Sarge led us towards our assigned position for the trip to Normandy.
Sarge, my entire regiment, and I were all scared to death as we loaded into the landing boat called a DUKW. These boats were amphibious 2 ½ ton vehicles that were both a truck and a boat. They usually usually carried supplies, but today they carried men, most to their deaths. Claustrophobia and death were racing through out our minds. Prayer was our only answer. I prayed to God to let me live, and I heard others doing the same. There was a buzzer, and it was time. It was time to rush from the boat and fight for our lives, fight for America, fight for freedom.
We were the first ship to arrive. I had no clue what to expect, what to do. I can hear the Germans firing. The bullets denting our DUKW. Suddenly the back dropped and bullets started to rain in. I was in the back of the ship, crammed into the little corner. My group and I were to scattered as we jumped out of the boat and into the water. Many soldiers never left the boat.
I jumped into the water. It was turning red. Bodies were floating in the water, lifeless. I felt like I was the last person alive. I was scared out of my wits. Despite my instincts, I swam toward shore, toward the bullets.
I ran onto the beach. Within moments, I felt something. I fell down, hurt. Clutching my hip, I saw my sarge drifting past me. Then just as quickly, he was dead. I knew I had to move away from the bloody water and death. With pain, fear, and anger in my eyes, I ran toward the Germans. Dodging bullets, I felt invincible. Finally, I dove into a bunker and found a moment of safety.
How did I get here, I thought. Why aren't my friends and Sarge protected like me? Guilt made me think I should be lying dead on the beach with them.
Starring at those angry Germans with my grenade in hand, I pulled the pin...........but it was too late.
By ~ Anders
Geronimo ~by Josue
June 16, 1829, I was born in a village called Bedonkohe; they called me "one who yawns". Even though they first called me that, I was going to be the first leader to fight against U.S. army. I had three brothers and four sisters. I was the smallest of all. My parents made me marry a girl when I was 15. Her name was Alope. After that, people started calling me be my real name Net'na, even though I had always hated my name. I liked my nickname for some reason.
In 1851, I went to town to trade. I was happy, laughing while I traded. The laugh ended when I saw some smoke coming of from my village. People were running down the hill, their faces and hands were bloody. I asked them what had happen, and they told me, "We were attacked! At least 400 big, scary Mexican soldiers attacked." Later on I found out that they were from Sonora, led by Jose Maria Carrasco.
I ran to my village as fast as I could. I fell lot's of times. When I got there, I found that my village was destroyed. The houses were burned to the ground. People were lying dead. They had been running and were shot in the back. They did not come in to fight, they came to kill. My chief, Mangas Coloradas, was dead. I was really mad.
Anger made me think thoughts of revenge. I will find them and kill them. I kept searching through the victims until I found my mom, my wife and my children. They were on the floor of our tipee, dead. I was so mad that I started crying. Tears of anger flooded my village.
I wanted revenge so badly that I joined the Chiricahua tribe. I knew they could help me get revenge. They called me Saint Jerome. We attacked the Mexicans. I only had a knife to fight off their guns. But my anger protected me like an invisible shield. I didn't care how many deadly bullets were coming at me. I kept stabbing my enemy with my knife. They used to scream, "Saint Jerome, please don't kill me." This is why the Mexicans and my tribe began calling me Geronimo. And Geronimo became my name.
Finally, the US government declared war against us. 5000 U.S. troops attacked us. The Indians that did not get killed were sent to jail. I ended up in prison. My anger had many years to cool. I learned fighting didn't bring back my family and the families that were killed that day. The years past as I sat in my cell, and finally it was February 02 1881. I was 51 years old. I joined another tribe i couldn't pronouns or write it's name there were more then 10,000 people in that tribe i married the daughter of the leader. The tribe never liked the U.S. troops I asked why didn't they fight them. "because we don't have a good leader". they said I can help you if you want to! "why would you want to help us if the chief will not trust you he'll want to stop you from killing his soldiers he has worked all his life to make this tribe" they said "trust my I have been a leader before my tribe was the one to attacked the mexican you probobly know who i am my real name in Geroimo" I said we trained for a year after we finished training we attacked the us troops at night. we defeat them at night. after that the years past till it was February 17, 1909, at age 79, I died. Soon my wish would come true...in the next world.
In 1851, I went to town to trade. I was happy, laughing while I traded. The laugh ended when I saw some smoke coming of from my village. People were running down the hill, their faces and hands were bloody. I asked them what had happen, and they told me, "We were attacked! At least 400 big, scary Mexican soldiers attacked." Later on I found out that they were from Sonora, led by Jose Maria Carrasco.
I ran to my village as fast as I could. I fell lot's of times. When I got there, I found that my village was destroyed. The houses were burned to the ground. People were lying dead. They had been running and were shot in the back. They did not come in to fight, they came to kill. My chief, Mangas Coloradas, was dead. I was really mad.
Anger made me think thoughts of revenge. I will find them and kill them. I kept searching through the victims until I found my mom, my wife and my children. They were on the floor of our tipee, dead. I was so mad that I started crying. Tears of anger flooded my village.
I wanted revenge so badly that I joined the Chiricahua tribe. I knew they could help me get revenge. They called me Saint Jerome. We attacked the Mexicans. I only had a knife to fight off their guns. But my anger protected me like an invisible shield. I didn't care how many deadly bullets were coming at me. I kept stabbing my enemy with my knife. They used to scream, "Saint Jerome, please don't kill me." This is why the Mexicans and my tribe began calling me Geronimo. And Geronimo became my name.
Finally, the US government declared war against us. 5000 U.S. troops attacked us. The Indians that did not get killed were sent to jail. I ended up in prison. My anger had many years to cool. I learned fighting didn't bring back my family and the families that were killed that day. The years past as I sat in my cell, and finally it was February 02 1881. I was 51 years old. I joined another tribe i couldn't pronouns or write it's name there were more then 10,000 people in that tribe i married the daughter of the leader. The tribe never liked the U.S. troops I asked why didn't they fight them. "because we don't have a good leader". they said I can help you if you want to! "why would you want to help us if the chief will not trust you he'll want to stop you from killing his soldiers he has worked all his life to make this tribe" they said "trust my I have been a leader before my tribe was the one to attacked the mexican you probobly know who i am my real name in Geroimo" I said we trained for a year after we finished training we attacked the us troops at night. we defeat them at night. after that the years past till it was February 17, 1909, at age 79, I died. Soon my wish would come true...in the next world.
Pickett's Charge ~by Sean
JULY 3 1863
Dear Dad,
I am in Gettysburg. It is twelve p.m. We start our biggest charge in an hour. About twelve thousand men will charge towards the center of the Union line. It is going to be amazing. When we win, we will have a clear path to Washington, and win the right to keep our slaves.
How is my brother doing? Is he still fighting for those evil Yankees? How stupid can he get? He was raised in the south why would he fight for the North? Still I always wonder what general he is fighting under? There is only one that I've heard of near us; his name is General Chamberlain. He is one of the high generals here in Gettysburg leading the Yankees. Another confederate troop of ours was slaughtered in battle. They say he is a brilliant general, but no matter, we will win this charge and have the war in the bag.
Sincerely,
Joe
56 Regiment Confederate side
July 3, 1863
Dear Diary,
I shudder as I write this, but this is my story and if I die, you must tell it.
At 1p.m.:
I heard "FIRE," and our cannons exploded in an earsplitting eruption . Aiming for the union line, we tried to weaken them. Splinters of wood flew into the air as wagons and barns exploded. Yet there was no damage being dealt blood did not rain down only splinters of wood. I had to get to General Lee and tell him. At that moment, I knew it was up to me to save the confederacy. I ran with all my might towards General Lee, musket in hand. I saluted and started yelling, "We're aiming too high. We're aiming too high. The union line has not been damaged. There is no hope!!"
"At ease, soldier," General Lee shouted at me.” "I know what I'm doing. The line has been damaged, and I know it."
I shut my mouth knowing there was no way to change his mind. I sulked back to my regiment feeling unimportant, angry and desperate . I was a failure to my country. So many people would die because of me. I couldn't convince General Lee. I should have continued to push him, implored him change his mind, so the confederacy could have been saved. Now I just hoped that General Lee would notice his mistake before it was too late.
3 p.m.:
The confederates would charge towards the center of the Union line soon . General Lee rode his horse along the line of soldiers, and everyone was cheering, holding their hands out wanting the great leader to touch them or to even glance at them. No one payed any attention to the cannon fire. They thought since the great confederate leader made the plan it had to work. However, I knew that most of the people ,melting over him like butter, won't survive this charge. They won't open there eyes to what is in front of them.
"Charge," General Pickett screamed. We ran with all our might into the open field like a bunch of sitting ducks. Twelve thousand men were either in front, beside, or behind me. The only thing that would save me from the brutal way of war was my musket and the luck of God. I hoped it was enough. In the first hundred yards nothing happened. Maybe I was wrong, maybe it was... cannon fire erupted from the union line. It shredded a soldier next to me. I was splattered with the blood of my comrade; I looked around to already see bodies scattered across the ground. "Damn you General Lee," I shouted. Blood was like rain, constantly falling. There was so much it seemed only James Henry Morris and I could be alive, but I knew it was not true. It can't be true.
This charge seemed to be the merchant of death. Yet through the fog of battle, I could see the the stainless steel musket aiming at my head. The person who held the weapon of war looked like my brother but mud and sweat covered his face. It can't be my brother, I thought. I had to convince myself time was running short. If I didn't react soon I'd be shot dead, so using all my will power, I raised my musket and fired. The bullet flew through the air, and time froze as it hit the man in between the eyes. His skull split in two, and blood spurted from his forehead. He died then and there; he was like a rag doll limp and cold. I hear screaming as a union solider ran towards the limp body, "FRED NO," he shouted. He picks him up and wipes his face. my mouth dropped open in surprise. His face was an exact watch to my brother . It was my brother I just killed. My brother is dead I will never see him again. I tried to find anything good in this situation but there was nothing. My brother was dead and I was the cause.
I turned around and dropped my musket. I ran. I ran with all my might through cannon fire and gunshot hoping I could escape the brutality of war. Hoping to escape the blood that my brother and so many other people shed. I went into the town of Gettysburg and begged to stay in someone's house. Most people glared at me. But finally someone let me stay. I tried to sleep but nightmares filled my head. I woke up the next morning only getting a few hours of sleep and start the journey home.
I do not stop to tell the general I am leaving I just walk away as cannon fire continues to erupt in the background picking off the last of my friends. I walked. I walked to my house to tell my parents what I have done and how they will never see their son again. All because I shot him. How would I tell them? " Hey mom I shot your son." I thought hoping I could think of something. I wasn't afraid of my dad; he would understand. But my mom would never forgive me.
August 10, 1863:
I sit crying. This is the day that would have been Fred's 21st birthday, but he will not be able to celebrate it because of me. I stole his life. Nobody else blames me for what I did. They say, "It is the way of war: shoot or get shot." But I don't believe it. I believe that my brother is left on a field in Gettysburg, with a bullet hole through his head. While he is there, I am here.
To keep me sane, I am on drugs. I try to keep myself from insanity due to the dreadful haunting of the ghost they call war. I have nightmares constantly. Always of the same thing. My brother and I have switched shoes; he kills me. I feel the pain of the bullet splitting my skull and the betrayal of my brother shooting me. I scream, "How could you shoot me, Joe?" And then, I wake up.
While Fred is left on a field in Gettysburg, I am left with a guilt that digs at my soul daily until I am desperate and insane. Who got the better end of this deal?
August 10, 1864, one year later:
I am at my parents' house. Scarred for life by war. I was not physically scarred; I was not shot our cut. But my soul is scarred. It was like I am only half a man. The other half is stuck, left in a field with tens of thousands of other young men who will not again see the light of day or the darkness of night. Fred will not see the happiness of another birthday. He will not see his nieces or nephews. He will not learn the feeling of love; he will not see true beauty. This is the result of war. It is a merchant of death. It is people fighting people because they disagree with the powers above them. I will never forgive myself for what I did to my brother. But I also will never forgive General Lee for sending us into a worthless charge. He has caused this brutality, but is he evil? What evilness creates war? Is it from the generals or are we all a part of this evil?
by ~ Sean
Dear Dad,
I am in Gettysburg. It is twelve p.m. We start our biggest charge in an hour. About twelve thousand men will charge towards the center of the Union line. It is going to be amazing. When we win, we will have a clear path to Washington, and win the right to keep our slaves.
How is my brother doing? Is he still fighting for those evil Yankees? How stupid can he get? He was raised in the south why would he fight for the North? Still I always wonder what general he is fighting under? There is only one that I've heard of near us; his name is General Chamberlain. He is one of the high generals here in Gettysburg leading the Yankees. Another confederate troop of ours was slaughtered in battle. They say he is a brilliant general, but no matter, we will win this charge and have the war in the bag.
Sincerely,
Joe
56 Regiment Confederate side
July 3, 1863
Dear Diary,
I shudder as I write this, but this is my story and if I die, you must tell it.
At 1p.m.:
I heard "FIRE," and our cannons exploded in an earsplitting eruption . Aiming for the union line, we tried to weaken them. Splinters of wood flew into the air as wagons and barns exploded. Yet there was no damage being dealt blood did not rain down only splinters of wood. I had to get to General Lee and tell him. At that moment, I knew it was up to me to save the confederacy. I ran with all my might towards General Lee, musket in hand. I saluted and started yelling, "We're aiming too high. We're aiming too high. The union line has not been damaged. There is no hope!!"
"At ease, soldier," General Lee shouted at me.” "I know what I'm doing. The line has been damaged, and I know it."
I shut my mouth knowing there was no way to change his mind. I sulked back to my regiment feeling unimportant, angry and desperate . I was a failure to my country. So many people would die because of me. I couldn't convince General Lee. I should have continued to push him, implored him change his mind, so the confederacy could have been saved. Now I just hoped that General Lee would notice his mistake before it was too late.
3 p.m.:
The confederates would charge towards the center of the Union line soon . General Lee rode his horse along the line of soldiers, and everyone was cheering, holding their hands out wanting the great leader to touch them or to even glance at them. No one payed any attention to the cannon fire. They thought since the great confederate leader made the plan it had to work. However, I knew that most of the people ,melting over him like butter, won't survive this charge. They won't open there eyes to what is in front of them.
"Charge," General Pickett screamed. We ran with all our might into the open field like a bunch of sitting ducks. Twelve thousand men were either in front, beside, or behind me. The only thing that would save me from the brutal way of war was my musket and the luck of God. I hoped it was enough. In the first hundred yards nothing happened. Maybe I was wrong, maybe it was... cannon fire erupted from the union line. It shredded a soldier next to me. I was splattered with the blood of my comrade; I looked around to already see bodies scattered across the ground. "Damn you General Lee," I shouted. Blood was like rain, constantly falling. There was so much it seemed only James Henry Morris and I could be alive, but I knew it was not true. It can't be true.
This charge seemed to be the merchant of death. Yet through the fog of battle, I could see the the stainless steel musket aiming at my head. The person who held the weapon of war looked like my brother but mud and sweat covered his face. It can't be my brother, I thought. I had to convince myself time was running short. If I didn't react soon I'd be shot dead, so using all my will power, I raised my musket and fired. The bullet flew through the air, and time froze as it hit the man in between the eyes. His skull split in two, and blood spurted from his forehead. He died then and there; he was like a rag doll limp and cold. I hear screaming as a union solider ran towards the limp body, "FRED NO," he shouted. He picks him up and wipes his face. my mouth dropped open in surprise. His face was an exact watch to my brother . It was my brother I just killed. My brother is dead I will never see him again. I tried to find anything good in this situation but there was nothing. My brother was dead and I was the cause.
I turned around and dropped my musket. I ran. I ran with all my might through cannon fire and gunshot hoping I could escape the brutality of war. Hoping to escape the blood that my brother and so many other people shed. I went into the town of Gettysburg and begged to stay in someone's house. Most people glared at me. But finally someone let me stay. I tried to sleep but nightmares filled my head. I woke up the next morning only getting a few hours of sleep and start the journey home.
I do not stop to tell the general I am leaving I just walk away as cannon fire continues to erupt in the background picking off the last of my friends. I walked. I walked to my house to tell my parents what I have done and how they will never see their son again. All because I shot him. How would I tell them? " Hey mom I shot your son." I thought hoping I could think of something. I wasn't afraid of my dad; he would understand. But my mom would never forgive me.
August 10, 1863:
I sit crying. This is the day that would have been Fred's 21st birthday, but he will not be able to celebrate it because of me. I stole his life. Nobody else blames me for what I did. They say, "It is the way of war: shoot or get shot." But I don't believe it. I believe that my brother is left on a field in Gettysburg, with a bullet hole through his head. While he is there, I am here.
To keep me sane, I am on drugs. I try to keep myself from insanity due to the dreadful haunting of the ghost they call war. I have nightmares constantly. Always of the same thing. My brother and I have switched shoes; he kills me. I feel the pain of the bullet splitting my skull and the betrayal of my brother shooting me. I scream, "How could you shoot me, Joe?" And then, I wake up.
While Fred is left on a field in Gettysburg, I am left with a guilt that digs at my soul daily until I am desperate and insane. Who got the better end of this deal?
August 10, 1864, one year later:
I am at my parents' house. Scarred for life by war. I was not physically scarred; I was not shot our cut. But my soul is scarred. It was like I am only half a man. The other half is stuck, left in a field with tens of thousands of other young men who will not again see the light of day or the darkness of night. Fred will not see the happiness of another birthday. He will not see his nieces or nephews. He will not learn the feeling of love; he will not see true beauty. This is the result of war. It is a merchant of death. It is people fighting people because they disagree with the powers above them. I will never forgive myself for what I did to my brother. But I also will never forgive General Lee for sending us into a worthless charge. He has caused this brutality, but is he evil? What evilness creates war? Is it from the generals or are we all a part of this evil?
by ~ Sean
The Cold War ~by Dylan
I awoke to the sound of gunshots. My two German Shepherds, Lolly and Bella, barked ferociously. The year was 1949, and for the past six months in Hungary, we'd endured many nights of gunfire. I didn't think this time would be any different until I heard Russians yelling at my mom. In a brutal, loud voice a Russian soldier yelled, "Give me your ring!"
I heard my mom's once powerful but now weak voice whisper, "No." Then, it was silent. Until the Russian lifted his gun and shot.
PART 2:
Moments after the shot, one of the Russians ripped the ring off my mother's finger and said, "We got it." The Russians took the ring and left in their fancy, perfect uniforms. I ran over to my mother and threw my arms around her. She was dead. She was as pale as a ghost. It was horrible. It still sends shivers down my spine. I cried uncontrollably, knowing I wouldn't have a mom any more. I couldn't believe that I would never hear my mom's voice again. I felt like punching the Russians square in the face. Time was moving quickly; I felt dizzy. I couldn't think straight.
I thought about calling the police, but it wasn't possible. The Red army had complete control over Hungary. Also, we had no electricity. I felt nauseous. My throat was dry. I thought about my mom, and what she would have done to make me feel better. I remembered that when I was little, my mom had taught me that drinking water would help me feel better. I wanted to go to the pump, but of course, that didn't work either. I couldn't believe how poorly Hungary was treated under the Red Army. I don't remember making a conscious decision, but I took my dogs, and I ran.
As I ran, I realized that the Soviet Union had too much power. That was a problem. They could go anywhere they wanted. Why would they steal from people who had almost nothing? They were wealthy enough to buy those items on their own. As I ran, I continued to ponder such thoughts. I wondered if they acted that way so the could feel even more powerful. I wondered if they felt their power was fleating.
PART 3:
Later, I got to the Danube River. I needed to cross it, but I couldn't find a safe place to cross. Chain Bridge was ruined so I couldn't go across there; the water was too cold at this time of year to swim, so the only choice I had left was to go across the military bridge. I knew it would be dangerous, but I had to try. I was glad that it was still dark; it would give me more cover. When I was crossing the bridge, I saw a guard. At the last moment, I made my dogs lie down. Then, I laid face down. It was pitch dark, so the guard walked right past me. I let out a sigh. He must have heard me because he whipped around fast.
He shouted, "Who's there?" He looked around for what seemed like an eternity, for I didn't take a breath. When he finally turned back, I relaxed a bit, careful to make no noise. My dogs and I got up and crept quickly over the bridge, still worried somebody else would see us. Luckily, nobody did.
When we got to the other side, it was starting to get light. I needed to find a safe spot. I found an alley and crept to the end of it. After a long, tramatic night full of fear and sorrow, I needed sleep. I laid down using my dogs as pillows and fell into a fitful sleep.
PART 4:
I woke up in the middle of the night to very loud shouting. There was a Russian yelling at somebody. I looked around but didn't see anyone. With a pang of terror, I realized he was yelling at me. He wanted my watch, which had been my mom's . I knew I didn't stand a chance against the guard, but I was ready to fight. That watch was the only thing I had left to remember her, and I wasn't about to let anyone take it away. I sat up staring at him and wondering, Why would he take items from people when he already has more than most people would ever wish for?
He was misusing his power. Instead of fighting for communism and his country, he was stealing from scared civilians. People with that type of power shouldn't be trusted. It makes their hearts careless. I realized I had just as much power as he did, maybe more. My power was not in guns and other weapons, but in heart. The love for my recently murdered mom gave me the bravery to stand up to him, bravery he would never understand. The reason why he was so horrible was because he never was loved. His leader Joseph Stalin was brutal to him. Stalin was brutal to even his closest friends. The Russian soldier was acting out of fear, seemingly content to bring fear to the people.
I refused to give my watch to him. I knew I would be shot, but I stood up for myself, for my rights. I had nothing to loose. I simply said, "No." He would have to kill me if he wanted it. And he seemed ready to do just that. The soldier moved and aimed his gun at me. At the precise moment he pulled the trigger, Lolly jumped in the way and was shot.
How could people be so horrible? Why would he kill people just because he wanted some stupid watch? I shouted and cursed at that Russian. I spit at him, and kicked stones at him uncontrollably. He had killed my dog. Time seemed to stop as a jumble of thoughts raced through my mind. He had ruined almost every hope I had left. He seemed equally as stunned that he had killed the dog. A dog is just as smart as a human, they know what is right and what is wrong.
My mom was dead. My life was almost taken because of a gold watch the Russian wanted. I wanted this war for communism to stop. The Russians were horrible. They had ruined my life. My anger had taken me into a world of uncontrolled exasperation. I wanted to kill Stalin. As my thoughts took me to thoughts of murder, I stopped myself. I didn't want to kill any body. I wouldn't kill a person even if they were destroying other people’s lives. Killing doesn't do anything but make you a bad person. I didn't want to become one of them in effort to stop them.
The Russian lifted his gun again, but he hesitated. There was something strange about the way he looked. All of a sudden he burst out in tears. He looked at my dog, and threw his gun on the ground. I knew he would never shoot anything again. The Russian was overwhelmed by my love for my dead dog and for his love for me. My dog had taught a lesson that I would have been unable to teach. The power of love. The willingness to give your life for another. It was a lesson we all needed to learn. Once humans become accustomed to taking lives, to witness the other is overwhelming. Sadly, he gestured for me to leave. As I left, I understood the power of love.
PART 5:
I had more power than a lot of people, but I had no guns to fight with. I would fight a different kind of war. I would fight the war of rights. I would stand up for others and myself. My old life was in Hungary, but I would have a new life. I would go to America.
I was very sad. I realized what abusing power could do to people. Power in weapons can make you a killer. Not just a killer of lives, but a killer of dreams. It can make you think you deserve to have anything, and it can make you think you have everything. The truth is, when you have this type of power, you have nothing at all. The most important power is love. I knew that I had that power. I notice that people with unchecked or abused power were always afraid that someone would take it from them. Nobody could take my power away from me, nobody can steal the love I have in my heart.
PART 6:
This war in Hungary was the beginning of a war that would last for many years. It was the cold war, an intense rivalry that developed between communist and democratic countries around the globe. I looked back toward Budapest often. As I think back to my mother and my dog, tears trickle down my face. But I know that they would both be proud of who I am now. I am now a doctor, so I can not only save lives, but also peoples' dreams.
I heard my mom's once powerful but now weak voice whisper, "No." Then, it was silent. Until the Russian lifted his gun and shot.
PART 2:
Moments after the shot, one of the Russians ripped the ring off my mother's finger and said, "We got it." The Russians took the ring and left in their fancy, perfect uniforms. I ran over to my mother and threw my arms around her. She was dead. She was as pale as a ghost. It was horrible. It still sends shivers down my spine. I cried uncontrollably, knowing I wouldn't have a mom any more. I couldn't believe that I would never hear my mom's voice again. I felt like punching the Russians square in the face. Time was moving quickly; I felt dizzy. I couldn't think straight.
I thought about calling the police, but it wasn't possible. The Red army had complete control over Hungary. Also, we had no electricity. I felt nauseous. My throat was dry. I thought about my mom, and what she would have done to make me feel better. I remembered that when I was little, my mom had taught me that drinking water would help me feel better. I wanted to go to the pump, but of course, that didn't work either. I couldn't believe how poorly Hungary was treated under the Red Army. I don't remember making a conscious decision, but I took my dogs, and I ran.
As I ran, I realized that the Soviet Union had too much power. That was a problem. They could go anywhere they wanted. Why would they steal from people who had almost nothing? They were wealthy enough to buy those items on their own. As I ran, I continued to ponder such thoughts. I wondered if they acted that way so the could feel even more powerful. I wondered if they felt their power was fleating.
PART 3:
Later, I got to the Danube River. I needed to cross it, but I couldn't find a safe place to cross. Chain Bridge was ruined so I couldn't go across there; the water was too cold at this time of year to swim, so the only choice I had left was to go across the military bridge. I knew it would be dangerous, but I had to try. I was glad that it was still dark; it would give me more cover. When I was crossing the bridge, I saw a guard. At the last moment, I made my dogs lie down. Then, I laid face down. It was pitch dark, so the guard walked right past me. I let out a sigh. He must have heard me because he whipped around fast.
He shouted, "Who's there?" He looked around for what seemed like an eternity, for I didn't take a breath. When he finally turned back, I relaxed a bit, careful to make no noise. My dogs and I got up and crept quickly over the bridge, still worried somebody else would see us. Luckily, nobody did.
When we got to the other side, it was starting to get light. I needed to find a safe spot. I found an alley and crept to the end of it. After a long, tramatic night full of fear and sorrow, I needed sleep. I laid down using my dogs as pillows and fell into a fitful sleep.
PART 4:
I woke up in the middle of the night to very loud shouting. There was a Russian yelling at somebody. I looked around but didn't see anyone. With a pang of terror, I realized he was yelling at me. He wanted my watch, which had been my mom's . I knew I didn't stand a chance against the guard, but I was ready to fight. That watch was the only thing I had left to remember her, and I wasn't about to let anyone take it away. I sat up staring at him and wondering, Why would he take items from people when he already has more than most people would ever wish for?
He was misusing his power. Instead of fighting for communism and his country, he was stealing from scared civilians. People with that type of power shouldn't be trusted. It makes their hearts careless. I realized I had just as much power as he did, maybe more. My power was not in guns and other weapons, but in heart. The love for my recently murdered mom gave me the bravery to stand up to him, bravery he would never understand. The reason why he was so horrible was because he never was loved. His leader Joseph Stalin was brutal to him. Stalin was brutal to even his closest friends. The Russian soldier was acting out of fear, seemingly content to bring fear to the people.
I refused to give my watch to him. I knew I would be shot, but I stood up for myself, for my rights. I had nothing to loose. I simply said, "No." He would have to kill me if he wanted it. And he seemed ready to do just that. The soldier moved and aimed his gun at me. At the precise moment he pulled the trigger, Lolly jumped in the way and was shot.
How could people be so horrible? Why would he kill people just because he wanted some stupid watch? I shouted and cursed at that Russian. I spit at him, and kicked stones at him uncontrollably. He had killed my dog. Time seemed to stop as a jumble of thoughts raced through my mind. He had ruined almost every hope I had left. He seemed equally as stunned that he had killed the dog. A dog is just as smart as a human, they know what is right and what is wrong.
My mom was dead. My life was almost taken because of a gold watch the Russian wanted. I wanted this war for communism to stop. The Russians were horrible. They had ruined my life. My anger had taken me into a world of uncontrolled exasperation. I wanted to kill Stalin. As my thoughts took me to thoughts of murder, I stopped myself. I didn't want to kill any body. I wouldn't kill a person even if they were destroying other people’s lives. Killing doesn't do anything but make you a bad person. I didn't want to become one of them in effort to stop them.
The Russian lifted his gun again, but he hesitated. There was something strange about the way he looked. All of a sudden he burst out in tears. He looked at my dog, and threw his gun on the ground. I knew he would never shoot anything again. The Russian was overwhelmed by my love for my dead dog and for his love for me. My dog had taught a lesson that I would have been unable to teach. The power of love. The willingness to give your life for another. It was a lesson we all needed to learn. Once humans become accustomed to taking lives, to witness the other is overwhelming. Sadly, he gestured for me to leave. As I left, I understood the power of love.
PART 5:
I had more power than a lot of people, but I had no guns to fight with. I would fight a different kind of war. I would fight the war of rights. I would stand up for others and myself. My old life was in Hungary, but I would have a new life. I would go to America.
I was very sad. I realized what abusing power could do to people. Power in weapons can make you a killer. Not just a killer of lives, but a killer of dreams. It can make you think you deserve to have anything, and it can make you think you have everything. The truth is, when you have this type of power, you have nothing at all. The most important power is love. I knew that I had that power. I notice that people with unchecked or abused power were always afraid that someone would take it from them. Nobody could take my power away from me, nobody can steal the love I have in my heart.
PART 6:
This war in Hungary was the beginning of a war that would last for many years. It was the cold war, an intense rivalry that developed between communist and democratic countries around the globe. I looked back toward Budapest often. As I think back to my mother and my dog, tears trickle down my face. But I know that they would both be proud of who I am now. I am now a doctor, so I can not only save lives, but also peoples' dreams.
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