Nonfiction

Are humans born only to die?
 

I just love the silver maple. The tree is not too tall nor too small, it is the perfect height for anyone to climb. I personally love the tree because when I am there it makes me relax and it just lets me think to myself.

My Special Tree  By Dannica 

The tree

It sits outside 

my window

A big and 

glorious tree

It shimmers in the winter 

And blooms in the summer

But it's not just any old tree

It’s my tree

It was a late summer day when 9 year old Gabe stumbled across the off-putting bathtub. After Gabe “devoured” as his mom would say, half a watermelon, Gabe ran back into the eerie woods on the warm summer afternoon.

I was walking in the woods, It was just a normal afternoon. It was a normal thing I would do, but I think I went too far. It started to get dark. I turned around to head back...but it didn’t look the same.

A List of Things That Remind Me of You:
1. South America, Africa, and Colombia
2. maps of the world
3. water polo
4. umbrellas
5. laughter
6. smiles
7. incorrect counting
8. teasing
9. pajama pants
10. swimming pools

‘Ughh just another day of school. Why do we have to learn how the pythagorean theorem works anyway, it’s not like our life depends on it.’ Hello reader, this is Jacub. He is an eight grade student at Morevills High School.

My eyes flutter open and dart to the windowsill, my lucky wooden spoon is still there from last night. I leap out of bed and nearly fall sprinting to the window, I feel the excitement start to rise as the snowflakes begin to fall.

We used to see each other everyday, but then you changed schools. That didn't stop me from coming over though.

To be told you can write anything makes it hard. The freedom gives you too much room. Seems easy, but really, the possibilities become overwhelming. I am not a writer. I write because that is what I am told to do.