How I Died In Minecraft
By Rhyan P., from Inkspot
I was in Minecraft minding my own beeswax at night when a Zombie and skeleton popped out of the ground! I ran, got my iron sword and charged, but the zombie overpowered me and I got dead. I respawned on top of my house. I got inside and looked inside my chest and got my diamond sword enchanted with fire aspect threes knock back two on the sword this time. I have my pet wolf with me. I was ready I charged once more and killedthe zombie and skeleton and afterwards, I invited my friends Ballistic Squid, Stumpy Longhead, L for Leeee, Fin Ball, and Ank55, played a music box and played minigames until they were purple.
Fighting
By Jonathan, from St. Rocco Anthology
I’m at my house. My brother comes home with a bruised face. He told my mom what happened. He said he was walking down the hall and four people came and started hitting him. He fought back. They did it because they didn’t like him. My older brothers’ friends’ cousin went with him and two other friends and fought them. But that started more problems with everyone. A lot of people started jumping in.
The Sad Story of Hotdog Person
By Mills and Peter, from Inkspot
This is the sad story of hotdog person. Hotdog person is a 19 year old hotdog who wants to become a football player for the Seattle Seafood. His favorite player is Brussel Wilson, the current Seattle Seafood’s QB. Sadly, he sucks at football and he practices all day, every day. The draft was coming up in 2 months and nobody was talking about him. He had 2 months to get good.
P.S- None of the food NFL team managers know him. Hotdog person wasn’t worried. He thought it meant that he already secured the #1 draft pick, who Seattle Seafood had. They traded Brussell Wilson so he thought his dream was going to come true.
2 Months Later
The food NFL commissioner walked to the mike with the first pick in the food NFL draft. The Seahawks picked Carrot Crackle. Hotdog Person fainted and he didn’t wake up ‘til the last pick of the first round owned by the Seafood. Then the commissioner says, “Lettuce Menis.”
1 Day Later
Hotdog Person was watching the 2nd round, then 3rd, the 4th, and nobody picked him. The next day, the 5th round passed, then 6th, then most of the 7th, then the 29th pick, 29th, 30th, 31st, the last pick of the draft owned by the Seahawks. This was the first time Hotdog Person worried the whole time, then the commissioner said with the last pick in the 2015 Draft, “The Seafood pick Hotdog.” Oh, Hotdog Person screamed.
3 Months Later
Hotdog Person showed up to the first practice with the Seafood. When the team saw 2 hotdogs a practice, they were confused, so Hotdog person had to battle the other Hotdog. After Hotdog Person’s first throw, they threw him out of the Seafood, and that was the sad story.
The Garage
By James B., from the St. Rocco Anthology
I am sitting pushing the gas but no brake. It’s cold about 40 degrees. I can hear the motor and my dad smiling and laughing because of what I’m doing and because I didn’t let the gas off. I had barely any room between the Jeep and the telephone pole and then I make a hard right and almost hit the truck and flew under it but finally I pushed the brake as hard as I could. I had everybody move because if they didn’t they would have got hit in the legs but then I finally got in the shop and we turned it off and then went home after that we put a motorcycle engine on it and a clutch then we put new tires on it from a 4 wheeler and the rear axle of it. Now we are putting a bunch of stuff on the motorcycle on the go kart and I can’t wait to ride the go kart 2.0.
No one knew his name
by Sara from the Cleveland Print Room
Every day he came to the poorest parts of town. It was the opposite direction from his home, though, and the extra stop added another hour at least to what should have been a trip of 15 minutes at most.
His coworkers always scoffed. What was a respectable man like him doing on that side of the train tracks? It was foolish, they told him, and he was only asking to get mugged.
Perhaps they were right. But perhaps they had spent too much time in the city that had long turned a blind eye to suffering. He had decided to look at them as equals and offer support.
The people came to expect him, unexpectedly, after a short while at the end of the work day with a smile on his face and a few dollars in hand.
No one knew his name.
In the cold and harsh winters he brought toys for the children as well as boots and coats. He had no children of his own; the neighborhood on the wrong side of the tracks had become his family.
He never gave his name.
They welcomed him regardless, though a few were skeptical of his reasons for helping. Businessmen all had agendas of their own, after all, and were rarely kind for the sake of kindness. The politicians, red and blue, had long stopped coming to that part of town after its residents had made it clear that such people weren’t welcome if they cared more about poll members than ending poverty.
No one asked for his name.
He told stories to the children of growing up in another country, not just on the wrong side of the tracks but not allowed in the city.
One day, one of the younger children asked about the numbers tattooed on his wrist, and it was one of the few times the smile ever left him. “They were from another time”, he told them, “and cruel men gave me this instead of a name”. But he pulled candies from his pocket just like every other day, and they forgot his momentary frown.
But no one ever knew his name.
The April Fool’s Alliteration Times
Mrs. Sheepafant Goes on an Adventure
Once upon a time there was a half elephant and sheep named Mrs. Sheepafant. She was walking and she heard a loud sound. She froze and looked up and it was an owl. And then the owl picked her up and she ended up in the jungle. She was too scared to say a word.
She looked around and ran off. She stopped. There was a monkey in the way. The monkey stuck his tongue out of his mouth. Mrs. Sheepafant told the monkey to stick his tongue back in his mouth, and the monkey didn’t listen.
The monkey punched her in her face. A few hours later, Mrs. Sheepafant woke up and the monkey was still there. Mrs. Sheepafant punched the monkey in its face. “Ooooooooooooow!”
“Ho ho ho,” laughed Mrs. Sheepafant.
“Not funny!”
The monkey seemed too far away. She ran and ran away. She came to a place. She looked around. There were lots of leaves. She went under the leaves. Then she went to bed. A few hours later, she woke up.
The monkey was gone and she walked out of the rain forest. Then she was back home. Then she went back to bed.
Scary Flash Fiction
By Willie J. from Miles Park School, Cleveland, Ohio
“Seen a eye,” my sister cried.
“A head, I saw a head.” I look and fire was coming out my mouth and when it happened my sister was on fire, but she was still alive. I knew that death road was coming my way. So when I heard that my sister died, then I knew it was death road.
Time to kill again. So I went to find him. He was gone. So I look and look until finally ten of the men was dead. It was one more. I find him and put him in pain, and then killed him, and the police never knew who it was.
I was free.
Sometime police ask, “Who Death Punch?”
I say, “I don’t know.”
Glob the Deadly Bird By Meyani
“Hi, I’m Glob the deadly bird but call me Glob Glob for short, ok? Glob eats poison for breakfast. That’s why Glob has a skull tattoo on Glob’s tummy. If you touch Glob’s tummy, you go bye-byes.”
HEY! Glob’s talking so be quiet! (Deep voice.)
“Ooh, prey time for Glob to eat lunch for the fifth time today. See ya in five seconds. Five…four…three…two…one. Glob’s baaack. Mmm, that was some good lunch.”
“Hey, Glob!”
“Hey, Hipapoise.”
“Well, see ya later.”
Teeny By Ms. Barb
Hello everyone, I am a teeny tiny elf named Teeny. My parents were normal sized, in fact, in Elf Land where we lived they were thought to be giants. Their names were Gigantus, my dad, and Maximus Irene, my mom. I am only 12 inches tall, but I am a fully developed and kind 11-year-old girl. I have lots of friends, some tiny like me and some are really tall. Joseph, my best friend, is really tall…He is 27 ½ inches tall. My mom and dad as I have told you were really tall—Mom was 4 ½ feet tall (54 inches) and my dad was 5 ½ feet or 66 inches tall. Everyone in Elf Land looks alike. They all have 3 eyes, one ear, and giant teeth, which they use to eat their favorite foods—slimy, slithering snakes and rotted vegetables. They fight a lot and even bite each other and pull their long enormous tails. But, worst of all, they say mean things about other people, tell lies and insult everyone about everything. They call me Teeny Monster because I don’t look like or act like them. Neither does my friend Joseph who actually looks like everyone else but is peaceful and kind. I don’t care if they think I’m a monster because I know I am a good teeny tiny elf. My eyes are wide open and I think the world is beautiful just like me.