So it's the beginning of the second quarter. This quarter, I'm starting art, which I'm not too excited about but it's not too bad. I'm going to try and get my grades up this quarter, because they weren't the best in the first quarter.
Anyway, this week I went to The New York State museum, which was pretty cool. I was in charge of watching my 2 year old brother, Owen. There were a few times where we had to put him in his stroller. He even tried to climb into a few exhibits! But otherwise he was alright. My favorite part of watching him was when I got to bring him into exhibits alone. Then I could lift him up to really see the exhibits without my other siblings wanting to move along.
My favorite part of going to the museum was getting to see the Iroquois exhibit. I really like learning about them, as they're constitution helped establish our modern-day government. Owen and I also liked the longhouse. Another one of my favorites was about the wilderness. I like the logging exhibit, and the elk exhibit where people throw coins in the water. All of us where given coins, but I gave mine to Owen. He really liked throwing them in!
Thursday, November 3, 2016
In my free time, I love to creative write. I have always wanted to post and share my writing somewhere so I decided to do it here. Enjoy.
Light. The first thing I remember. My first memory. My first happiness. Nothing could go wrong. The world was new and it was all mine. The trees, the wind, the dirt, all of it.
The next thing I remember is my mother, the alpha. Her dark grey fur and piercing blue eyes. I remember the way she talked to father. How she would go on and on about me. How smart I was. How clever I was. How we shared the same coat and eyes. How I would one day be alpha. Well, I was going to be an alpha. Before everything went wrong.
I remember the running. I thought it was like every other run. That it was only for fun. That we would come back. That was until I saw the blood.
Loud banging was heard throughout the forest, digging into the flesh of my pack. Father had just enough strength to hide me in the bushes, where my dark coat would blend in with the night. Where I would be safe from the banging.
As I watched my mother’s eyes slowly fade dull and her fur colored red, I tried to stay calm. To remember my life. My pack. My name. To this day, the very thought of my name leaves a stinging taste in my mouth. I wanted to forget it. I wanted to kill it with the very same bang that killed my mother.
When all was done, all I could do was walk away. I had no idea how to hunt. How to find shelter. How to live. How to hide. I knew I couldn't survive. I knew I would die.
Three days went by before I decided to completely give up. Lying down in the dirt, I tried to forget everything that had happened. I tried to forget my pain and hunger and weakness. All I could do was cry. For hours, I lied there, sobbing. Until I heard footsteps.
A wolf. With jet black fur and mustard yellow eyes. Carrying a badger in her mouth. She walked up to me, her claws shining in the moonlight. I watched them, waiting for them to sink into my soft flesh. But they didn't. I looked up into her eyes, begging her not to kill me. Instead, she dropped the badger to my paws. Shocked, I mumbled a thanks. She dipped her head down and said “M”. Then as quickly as she came, she left.
I stood there for a second, wondering. I quickly picked up as much as I could and ran. That night, I stumbled upon an old cave and decided to stay there. I pulled off a small piece of the badger and stared up at the stars. That night, I started a brand new life. I remembered M and the badger, my signs of hope, and gave myself a new name.