TBD.

Author's Note: As I began writing a creative piece for the week, my story grew longer than I expected it would. So, in the meantime while I finish it, here's an excerpt from the beginning of the piece.

Throughout the entire city of Tulsa, Oklahoma, there are only three sounds you can hear; the fast whistling of the wind as a forms a funnel in the sky, tearing up the horizon, the terrified screams of parents demanding their kids come inside and take cover from the storm and my laughter.

Some say I'm mad, and others refer to me as broken, but in all honesty, none of that is true. I may have gone through a hard time, a time that many people would not be able to bare, but it left me as the same sane soul as I've always been -- okay, so maybe I wasn't really sane to begin with.

Coward.

Author's Note: I wrote this piece as an assignment for point of view. The first section is my explanation of how the book A Child Called It is interpreted by readers because of the perspective of the narrator. The following section is my thoughts of how the dad views things.

From the first page of the book A Child Called It, David Pelzer immediately snatches, not only your attention, but your pity. He gives you insight on what life is like for a boy whose mother thinks of him as nothing other than a punching bag and disgrace to his family's name. Hearing, first hand, what it is like in the moment of being abused fills readers hearts with sorrow. And the sorrow has it's way of turning itself into anger when you realize that other people were aware of the struggles he was going through: they just didn't help him.

Take David's father for example. As a father, he loved his son very much; even when his wife disprove of it. He'd sneak David food when his mother forbid to feed him dinner and he'd talk to him when no one else would. But what his father failed to do was stop the abuse. Talk sense into his wife and insist on her backing off the poor child. Instead, David tells the readers that his father would tend to run away. Take long business trips and not arrive home til late at night, sometimes three of four days later.

This is what upsets the readers -- when a character such as he is well aware of the troubles his son is facing and the insanity of his wife and, instead of putting a stop to it, he runs away from it. Some say he's a coward. Others quote that he is just as bad as his wife. But all these people, they don't know him. They don't know his real story. Even David, complaining his father never did anything for him and never loved him; he never knew.

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I quietly opened the door, stepped inside my house and checked the time on my watch; it was nearly three in the morning. I then proceeded to tip-toe down the hall, hoping not to wake anyone, although, seeing the light on in the kitchen indicated that they were already up. I began walking towards it when I stopped myself. I knew better than to go in there. So instead, I sat down on the chair in my cold, dark living room and watched the shadow that cover the kitchen wall. I saw every punch and every kick and each time she hit him, my heart broke more and more. I took a sip of the half empty beer can that was sitting on the table next to me with four others just like it and, again, considered going in there to save my little boy, but I couldn't do it. I knew exactly how she felt about me interrupting them and trying to stop her so I reminded myself that it was better to just keep quiet and pretend nothing was happening. I closed my eyes and all I could hear was the sound of her grunting with each swing and the gasps he drew each time he was hit. I imagined him trying to hold back his tears and cries for help. And I imagined her, not holding back anything; beating him with all of her strength. And then, from the mouth of my six year old son, I heard him repeat "I am a bad boy, I am a bad boy, I am a bad boy".

When this happened I knew it was over and it was only moments later when I heard my wife dismiss him back to his bedroom in the basement. She slammed the door shut behind him, turned around and finally entered the living room. She looked at me. I looked at her. But neither of us said anything. It was as if there were a transparent wall put up in between us, barricading her and her thoughts from me and mine. We were in the same room...but we weren't together. But the wall came tumbling down to rubble as she began to speak:

"You're back," she began.

My hands clenched, my tongue went dry, and I could feel the blood move around in my body.

"Where'd you run off to this time?"

I sat up straight, setting the beer can back on the coffee table table, and answered her. "Some 24- hour motel on the other side of town. Nothing too special, but it was the only place I could find."

"And the bruises?"

"Almost gone. I figured I could hide what's left of them under my clothes but everything visible have been gone since this morning."

"Good. Now that will teach you not to stand up for that runt of the litter anymore."

My tongue was tied; I didn't know how to respond to that anymore. So, in the absence of my words, I just nodded the kind of nod you would give to king or queen, someone superior to you to show them they're in power. That they have total control over you.

"So why such a late return tonight? What, was the motels check- out time 2:30am or something?"

The sarcasm in her voice stuck me a little uneasy, however, I tried to keep my composure calm as my brain scrambled to think of an excuse. My thoughts were quickly cutoff, though, as her stern voice interrupted me again:

"You thought I'd be asleep, didn't you? You thought if you came back late enough at night, you wouldn't have to deal with this, uhh, awkward encounter with me, huh? Well am I right? You're a coward."

She was right. I am a coward. I thought if I came home as late as I did, I could avoid this conversation. I thought I told my wife to stop abusing our son, she'd believe me instead of beating me. I thought if the bruises and scars on the outside went away, the ones on the inside would fade, too. And, above all, I thought that if I ran away from my home for a few nights, I'd come back and everything would be normal. So, as deranged and delusional as she is, my wife was right. I am a coward.

3,324,047,000 Different Stories

Author's Note: This piece was written as an assignment for my social studies class to compare the book My Brother Sam is Dead to the movie The Patriot. Both of these stories incorporated strong relationships between father and son: one loving, and one hating.

Right now, there are approximately 3,324,047,000 males in the world. Each one of them is the son of another male and each one of those is a son as well. This chain dates back all the way to the beginning of human existence. And out of this vast amount of different father- son pairs, every one of them has a different relationship. Some see each other often but do not seize the opportunity when they're together. Others seldom get the chance to spend time with one another and cherish the moments they have with each other. Some are very close, others haven't even met. And there's a reason for this; for all of this. Each family has their story and each story has its occurrences. But it's the ending that really counts- how they chose to fight their battles of differences, either with or against each other- that determine they way they function as a family.

In the movie The Patriot, Gabriel and his father, Benjamin, recognize their differences early on. Gabriel has high hopes set to join the continental army, while his father doesn't believe that it's a good idea. Gabriel immediately ran away from his father and his rules against going to fight against the British and later came back wounded. It is then, when his father bans him from returning to war, that another argument breaks out about how unjust it is for his father to make all of his decisions for him. And in the midst of that argument, Benjamin admits to his son that he is scared for his safety and doesn't want to lose him. The next morning the British attack their house, taking the life of Gabriel's brother and influencing his father to also join the army.

However, things take a spin in another direction in the book My Brother Sam is Dead. Sam and his father, too, have different opinions about Sam fighting in the war, although in this book, Mr. Meeker doesn't approve of the side in which his son wishes to defend. As a loyalist, he doesn't believe it to be wise for his to fight in the Continental Army against the British. And like Gabriel, Sam runs away to a hut where he chooses to hide out and enlists the army in contradiction to his fathers directions. After being gone, fighting, for several months, Sam returns to town and steals his fathers gun in the night. Mr. Meeker is unaware of the robbery until one night British soldiers invade his tavern demanding for his gun. Witnessing this, Sam's younger brother, Tim, aware of the theft his brother committed, does not say anything although sneaks over to Sam's hut and informs him about the nights events. Though aware of the trouble he has caused for his father, Sam refuses to return the gun.

As you can see, the two stories vary greatly when it comes to the relationships between the two father- son pairs. Gabriel and his father may have had their differences in the beginning, but eventually learn to work together, versus against each other, to concur a bigger battle- that being to win the war. On the other hand, Sam and his father don't even consider working together, therefore creating harder struggles on themselves. Also, as a patriot, Benjamin believed in freedom and wanted the Continental Army to win the war. His problem sprouted from the love of his son and his hope for nothing bad to ever happen to his precious son. But, being a loyalist, Mr. Meeker sided with the British government and refused to associate with someone unlike him. His hatred was so strong that it over powered his love towards his son and eventually he even disowned him as family.

3,324,047,000 males, 3,324,047,000 relationships, and not one of them the same. All different people, all different stories; loving, hating, befriending, disowning. Will you end up loving like Gabriel and Benjamin, or take the route of hatred as did by Sam and Mr. Meeker? No one quite knows for sure yet, everything keeps on changing. But, in reality, when it comes down to the end, the choice is up to you.

Be Brave for Me.

Author's Note: I wrote this letter as a creative piece relating to Christmas. This year especially, I've realized how little the materialistic gifts really mean on this day of love and family. Then I began to think of what it would be like for someone without a family on Christmas. I wrote this from the perspective of an eight year old girl whose widower father went to war leaving her with a poor foster family. Let me know what you think!

Dear Santa,

I know you're very busy this year and Ms. Jones says that sometimes you don't have enough time to make it to all the kids houses or read all their letters. And I understand that haven't been a perfect, little girl all year long, either. Sometimes I fight with the other foster kids and last week, when Ms. Jones asked me why I was crying, I lied and told her it was because I bumped my elbow. But anyways, if you're even reading this, I have a favor to ask you. For Christmas I don't want a bike or new toys, what I really want, more than anything in the world, is for you to bring me my Daddy back.

Three years ago, he dropped me off here at the home. I still remember that day. He knelt down in front of me so we were face to face and gently grabbed my arms. He told me that he had to go away for a while. He was going to some place called Afghanistan to catch the bad guys so that here in America I'd be safe. He told me that he was going to be brave for me so I had to be brave for him, too.

I've been very brave the past few years, but i can't grow up without him and he can't stay there forever. The other kids you can make miracles so I was thinking, if you're not too busy this Christmas, maybe you could bring him back to me. And then I could be like all my friends at school, with a real father, and a family of my own.

Thank you for reading this Santa.

Sincerely,

Addie.

Brainwashed.

Author's Note: This was an assigned piece to fit the standards of theme analysis. In this piece I explain the importance of government knowledge and how it is expressed throughout the books Fahrenheit 451 and 1984.

The other day, while doing her social studies homework, my sister began to complain about how knowledge of our government and the history of it serves no importance to people of our society. She then went further into detail about how only people expecting themselves to go on into congress or politics should "have the misfortune of learning this stuff". But, with my newly gained intelligence about the significance of governmental wisdom I got from books, I was able to explain to her why she needs to be educated in this subject. The less you know about your government, the more vulnerable you are to the control of that government.

In George Orwell's 1984, from a very young age, people are brought up learning, or more frankly knowing, that Big Brother is almighty and it is impossible and unimaginable to attempt to rebel against him. From the age of four, children are sent to a facility to be trained to become Junior Spies working for The Party. From there, they continue to be brainwashed by the telescreens that are set up in each and every house, work building and even a midst crowded cities to monitor peoples actions. Blindly controlling people of their country is how the government keeps their power.

In Fahrenheit 451, the government takes a completely different approach when it comes to control, stripping society of their intelligence. Books are prohibited and schools are eliminated. Day after day people sit in their parlors and watch mindless television, unaware of the power their government has over them. They do not dare to own books for they know of the consequences that come from doing so. The uneducated community members are so caught up in their shows and gossip that they don't realize how much power the government has over them.

Lastly, citizens of the community in The Giver, follow the rules of 'sameness' where everything is the same. Everyone has the same amount of money, food, and luxuries as the next one. But the one thing they don't get is power. No one really realizes their lack of control in the community and this is the way the government wants it.

So when my sister wanted to know why we need to know how having knowledge in the history of the government affected her, I referred to these books, more importantly, their common theme. Not only government control but the blind control of it. In every one of these books, the characters were so oblivious to the power that was being held against them that the government held complete power over everything. If we were as uneducated as these people, we could be forced to do practically anything they want and all of our freedom would be taken from us. Thoughts, ideas, emotions...they'd all be gone. And what would we be left with? Nothing. Nada. Not a dollar to our name.

Bold, Bitter, Black.

Author's Note: I wrote this piece to achieve my goal of getting scored a 10 on word choice. This scene in narrated by a blind man who wants more than anything to be able to see again. Let me know how you like it!

As I sit on the hot, dry sand of Pewaukee Beach, I can hear the sound of laughter coming from the children around me. A cool breeze blows against my skin as the night grows older and the sun begins to tuck away until morning. I try to think back to the last time I watched the big, golden mass of fire hit the clear, blue waves of the lake creating even more color and immensity to the already beautiful image. But I can't recall it. I can't see it. It has been far too long since the last time I had opened my eyes to absorb the natural beauties of our world. The wonders of an unforetold future that we take advantage of day after day. Suddenly, the "ooo's", "aww's" and gasps of amazement coming from  people around me sends me plummeting back into reality. A lady next to me nudges my arm and in an anxious tone of voice insists me to look up and experience the astonishing sight they all are watching. But when I do, when I open my eyes and aim my face towards the sky, all I see is bold, bitter, black. 

From Rags to Riches

From the beginning to the end of the book Pretty Little Liars, by Sarah Shepard, Hanah Martin changed herself and her image so drastically, classifying herself a dynamic character. She started off as an overweight, insecure, bullied seventh grade girl but once meeting, befriending and falling under the influence of Ali DiLirentes, her whole life began to change.

Once Ali identified and expressed to Hanah that her weight effects the way people see her and her popularity status, Hanah decided to re-invent herself. So after Ali's passing, Hanah ocuired a sever case of bulimia. With this, she lost so much weight she went from being unquestionably the largest girl in her school to being one of the skinniest. And because of her dramatic change of weight, Hanah also dropped multiple clothing sizes forcing her to have to buy a completely new wardrobe. With her mom's credit card and help from her new best friend, Mona Vanderwal, Hanah proceeded to purchase the entire Louis Viton store and every Chanel handbag on the market.

Now, with her new look also came a new attitude. As her apperence changed her popularity grew, and as people began to look up to her, she started to look down on them. Because she was forced to live in Ali's shadow her whole life, Ali's old and bitter attitude was beginning to rub off on Hanah. She then proceeded to claim her role as alpha and rule the school.

Now, as you can see, one summer changed Hanah a lot. It brought her a new look, new friends and a new attitude. This same occurrence happened in the book Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. On the last day of school, main character, Melinda Sordino, called the cops on an 'end of the year' high school party after being sexually assaulted there. Melinda's image changed a lot after that one summer, too. She was neglected by all of her old friends who thought she called the cops due to the amount of under aged kids drinking alcohol at the party. She also became quieter; much, much quieter. Getting a word out of Melinda was as rare as an honest politician. And her nervousness and anxiety caused her to form the habit of biting her bottom lip leaving huge scars in its place making her look much less appealing.

The difference, though, between these two characters was that Melinda went from being one of the most popular girls in school to being the girl who didn't have anyone to sit next to at lunch and spent her weekends sitting in her bedroom alone. On the other hand, Hanah had gone from an over weight, bullied child to a popular, beautiful teenager. She changed herself for, what she thought was to be for the better. But, what she didn't realize was that even though she may have been becoming a better version of herself, it negatively impacted others.

The way she saw herself was just like the way Ali had seen herself; superior. One big change in Hanah's attitude, as stated before, was the way she saw others. She would act as though she were greater than them which made them feel inferior. Many people were intimidated of her, especially her old friends. Hanah's change influenced their lives as much as it did hers. They began to loose their confidence and feeling of importance when Hanah would put them down. And as she acted cruelly to them, they began to act cruelly to each other. All four girls lost a great amount of respect for themselves after Hanah started to act this way.

Her whole life, Hanah Martin wanted so desperately to be popular, look beautiful and feel good about herself. But, during this book, when her wishes were fulfilled and her prayers were answered, her change wound up leaving her with an empty feeling inside. And it kept one question constantly weighing on her mind: Was all of this really worth it?