Issue No. 4
COYOTE CALL March 2015
The Literary Issue, Part 1 TABLE OF CONTENTS
Here, we celebrate all the literary accomplishments of Camptonville Academy’s students!
MEET THE QUEEN
By: Anna Lego ------------------------------------------------------PAGE 2-4
BONNIE BARBARA ALLEN ✻
By: Avaloria HSJ --------------------------------------------------PAGE 5 and 6
THE MOTHER ✻
By: Autymn Fox -------------------------------------------------- PAGE 7-8
THE ART OF WORDS
By: Bethany Corey ----------------------------------------------------- PAGE 9
PAINFUL LOVE
By: Nicole Horsfall -------------------------------------------------- PAGE 9
THE BOOK JUMPER
By: Raven Dawn --------------------------------------------- PAGE 10-12
A REAL AND GENUINE SOUL
By: Bethany Corey --------------------------------------------- PAGE 13
POETRY
By: Lewis Carroll --------------------------------------------- PAGE 14
THE WOLF
By: Nichole Horsfall --------------------------------------------- PAGE 15
OREGON
By: Mallory Franceschi --------------------------------------------- PAGE 16
✻ Content may not be best suited for young readers
A writer never has a vacation. For a writer, life consists of either writing or thinking about writing. - Eugene Ionesco
Meet the Queen by Anna Lego This story begins on the 17th of November, 1558, the day that Queen Elizabeth I was declared Queen of England. There was a man by the name of Percival Fredrickson who was 33 years of age. Percival lived in England at the time of the crowning. Percival was a crook who was famous for robbing large houses at night, and he decided that it was time to rob another place. The soon-to-be Queen, wanted her ceremony to be open to all, and once Percival heard of this, he knew whose house he was going to rob. He made plans to sneak in the castle while the ceremony was going on outside because almost all of the guards would be outside protecting the Queen. 
 Once the ceremony started, Percival made his way around the crowd to the back door; there was only one problem, there were ten guards standing watch. He had to think of another way in, and fast. There had been rumors of a secret passageway into the dungeons, but no one had ever found such a thing. Rumor had said that there was a statue in the garden that if moved, you would find a staircase that leads into the dungeon. So Percival went looking, only there were many statues in the garden. He pushed with all his might to move the statues, but they would not budge.
 Then, just as Percival was about to give up, the guards standing watch at the back door left. They heard a noise some distance away from where Percival was and went to check it out. That was the one and only opportunity Percival had to get inside, so he took it. He ran as fast as he could to the door which was cracked open, so he just ran right inside. The next thing he knew, Percival was standing in the castle's kitchen. He stood still for a moment thinking to himself, "Wow I am actually in the castle's kitchen!" He then heard the guards coming back to the door.
There was only one way out of the kitchen, so he darted for it and found himself in a hallway full of doors that lead who knows where. One by one, Percival opened each and every door in that hallway and found no signs of gold. Once he reached the last door he found a spiral staircase that led downward. At first he was hesitant about going down into the dark, unlit room that lies below, but some of the guards were coming inside the castle, so he decided to go down. The staircase was ever so dark and seemed never ending, until there was a very faint light coming from the bottom of the stairs. Once Percival reached the end, there was a wooden torch in its place on the wall light with fire. He was not sure about taking the torch because he thought it might be a booby trap, but he took it anyway because he could not see anything. The light spread out into the enormous room, and it was then when a shimmer off of a silver goblet had caught the eye of Percival. He walked over to the shimmering and found a sack full of gold and silver cups and platters, jewelry, and much more. There was in that room a wall that came up to Percival's hip that had gunpowder lying in the hole in the center of it. It was so hard to see in that room, so he decided to ignite the powder. The fire followed the insides of the wall for what seemed like miles and then stopped, leaving the room bright. It was at that very moment when he said in a hushed whisper to himself, “I have found it. I, Percival Fredrickson, have found the treasure room!” There was a large commotion upstairs, and then he heard two voices. “Well that was quite the crowning ceremony was it not?” “I would say so. Say, what is that?” “Why it seems to be a mud-filed foot print. Shall we alarm the others?” “No, let us not disturb the Queen on this special day.” Percival then proceeded to fill an empty sack full of gold and silver. Percival saw in the distance a small set of wooden staircases, and knew that that was his only way out. He then, with his sack full of treasure, made his way across the large room and up the staircase. Once he reached the top of the stairs the door was so old that almost half of it was eaten by termites. The door was unlocked and opened to a narrow hallway that led to another, and through that door was a closet, which so happened to be the Queen's closet in her bedroom. The door made a loud creaking sound like it had not been opened for many years. When he got inside the room, Percival was relieved to find that no one was in the room at that moment. "
As Percival was looking through the room the door opened, and in came Queen Elizabeth I looking as beautiful as ever. Percival stood speechless for quite a while as the Queen saw him standing there in her room, all dirty and covered in spider webs. The Queen then proceeded to ask in a frightened but soothing voice, “Who are you?” “My name is Percival, Percival Fredrickson,” he said in a quivering voice. The guards outside of the room rushed in as soon as they heard Percival speak. They pulled out their swords and walked slowly toward Percival, unsure if he was armed or not. The guards ordered Percival to drop the sack and put his hands up. Just then, one guard arrested Percival for trespassing and for robbery. He spent many nights in the dungeon of the castle, and after over a year of being in that cold, wet cell, two guards told Percival to get up because he had a visitor. The next thing he knew the Queen herself was at the door of the cell. She unlocked it, setting him free. The Queen said, “Sir I do not know why you would come in my castle and steal from me thinking that you would get away with it. You have been in here long enough, but you must promise me one single thing.” “And what might that be your Majesty?” asked Percival. “Never rob another house again, or you will be in here for a much longer time,” answered the Queen in a firm voice. Percival assured the Queen that he would keep that promise, and he did. He was very sick and was lying on his deathbed when the Queen visited him and thanked him for keeping his promise. A few hours later Percival died at age 72 due to old age. He died with a smile on his face, knowing that he did the right thing.
"
Bonnie Barbara Allen - 2014 by: Avaloria HSJ
the bar, with the intention of calming down, but saw a rat trap which gave her an idea. A stupid idea, she chastised herself. Her guilt bubbled as another beep sounded from the heart monitor. Those maddening beeps were a cause of relief and an Her anger started to bubble in instantaneous wave of contrition. the pit of her stomach again. She Barbara fell into an uneasy sleep. shook her head to rid herself of those memories. Glancing over at Barbara woke to the glorious John caused her heart to clench and frightening sound of her with worry. He was so pale, but fiancees weak voice. John was his breathing had evened out speaking softly to one of their some since last night. friends and pointing towards her. Barbara let the events of the Her heart hammered in her chest, night before play in her mind, as Guilt crashed onto her as she had he figure it out? How much they had a thousand times before. remembered that she was the one did he remember? Panic began to John flirting with anything with a to put him in the hospital. She take over; the blood rushed to her pulse, anything with long legs, remembers going to the back of legs. It felt as if the room had "
The steady beep of the heart monitor did nothing to ease her anxiety. It did absolutely nothing to calm her heart or her thoughts from racing. Her thoughts were like a tsunami; wild and uncontrollable. Those irritating beeps seemed to be like a metronome for her thoughts. Every harsh, little, mechanical beep caused her to flinch. She couldn't believe the situation had escalated this rapidly. John is dying. Every beep let her know that he wasn't dead... yet.
anything with a sticky sweet voice, anything named Lillian Rose. That hippie with a ditzy smile and that ludicrous flower power getup. John was ignoring her, Barbara Allen, for a flower child!
been compressed to half its original size. Barbara forced herself to take a deep breath and sit up. They can’t possibly know what I did, she thought, I was too discreet. Barbara wiped her hands on her jeans as she greeted the two men, then quickly crossed the room, and locked herself in the bathroom.
breathing and exited. Noticing that their friend had left, Barbara took the opportunity to speak with John. “How’re you feeling?”
"
“Like I have a million needles in my body,” John said with a strained but sweet smile. Barbara examined his face. His Looking at herself in the grey-blue eyes twinkled in the mirror, it was clear that she had fluorescent lighting. He reached been worrying about something. to grab her hand, but Barbara Her dark green eyes were snatched it back before he could dilated, her skin was flushed and even touch her. Her guilty clammy looking somehow, and conscience would not allow her her hair seemed to have deflated. to let him touch her. If he was She gripped the edges of the sink offended, John hid it well. They as she mentally slapped herself chatted idly for a few minutes for looking so obvious, so guilty. before he said he felt like sleeping again. He told her that They wouldn’t be here if she he loved her, Barbara smiled in had just poured the whole twenty response. four ounces of arsenic instead of a few measly ounces, if only she Barbara single-handedly had the nerve to finish what played with his jet black hair she’d started. Bonny Barbara until he slipped into Allen, her conscience chided, unconsciousness. She waited a John is the best thing to ever few minutes before leaning in happen to you, you should come close to his ear. clean and face the consequences. But, sang the little devil on her “I did this to you, John, I shoulder, he’s constantly poisoned you. I did this you infidelious and never considers because of your infidelity. I love your feelings or opinions about you enough to want to take this anything. Bonny clutched her back, but it’s too late for me to be head as every consequence to spineless now.” Barbara kissed every action she had taken his forehead, “I love you, but this played in her head. She realized must be done, my love.” She she had been in the bathroom for watched as he spasmed in his way too long. She slowed her sleep, the air finally reaching his
heart. She left the needle in his arm and left the hospital as quickly as possible. Driving was harder than she predicted. Her eyes kept welling up with tears, but she kept blinking them back before they could fall. Barbara went to her mother’s home. When she arrived, it was about five AM. Her mother would be asleep for a few more hours. There would be enough time to get things in order. Barbara wrote her mother a note explaining what happened and why things happened the way they did. She hoped this wouldn’t be her mother’s undoing as well. She got all of her affairs squared away. Then she dialed 911. “911, what’s your emergency?” “I killed him. John Graeme. He’s in the West Country ER. I-I killed him about two hours ago and I poisoned him almost twenty four hours ago. I’m at 562 Dead Bell Lane.” Barbara hung up and waited for her consequences.
The Mother BY: AUTYMN FOX The tall, dark haired man walked into the room, calm and composed, with a tight smile that was slashed across his face. There was only one other person in the room. A woman, old and frail, sat at the counter. He approached and sat next to her. “ I’m Ben,” “Yes, I know. You are a hero. Everyone knows who you are,” said the old woman with a smile. His laughs sounded empty and hollow, “ Well I’m not sure about being a hero; I just do what I is right.” He looked down at the counter, suddenly solemn, “ Do you mind if tell you a story?” “ Go ahead, dear,” she said with the faintest hint of sarcasm bleeding through. With a sigh, Ben started the story. “ It was just like any other day. I woke up, went to work, came home, and was getting ready for a evening out with my wife. I was buttoning my shirt when I heard the mail flap squeaking open. I turned and saw it. I saw the envelope laying there on the ground silently calling my name. I knew my wife was in the other room, so I walked over and picked it up. It had my name spelled out on it, so naturally I opened it. On the envelope it had a time and a place: 8:00 Lorenzo’s Corner It gave me a sinking feeling in my gut, but I knew that I needed to follow the directions someone had sent me. I glanced at the clock; it read 7:45. I needed to hurry if I was going to get there in time. I ran into my wife's and my bedroom and told her there was something I needed to do, but that she shouldn’t worry because I would
make sure to come home to her safe and sound. She smiled at me and nodded; I was off. It was a chilly night and the December wind was less than inviting. As I walked down the street I kept thinking about what might be awaiting me when I arrived. Others passed by me as I walked, but I barely noticed them. When I arrived at Lorenzo's Corner, it was 8:10; if this mystery person knew me they would know I am usually late. I stood outside the busy restaurant, not exactly sure where I was supposed to go or who I was meeting. I waited for a sign. As I waited I watched the other people around me going about their business. I saw mothers walking children across the street, friends young and old gossiping about life, and couples strolling hand in hand. No thought was in their minds that something bad might be about to happen. I thought of my wife. I should have been with her. I prayed to God that, if nothing else, he would protect my wife and bring me home to her. Just then there was an explosion in the building behind me. I was thrown forward onto my hands and knees. I was frozen for just a moment, contemplating what had just happened and evaluating the damage. I knew at once I had to save anyone that I could. I stood up and ran towards the building. It was on fire and the sidewall had been blown open. I could see people trying to find their ways out through the smoke and rubble. I helped a father and mother who were trying to carry their babies out, an old man that
couldn’t breathe through the smoke, and so many others that because of the chaos I have forgotten. When everyone was out and the authorities had arrived, I was standing around trying to understand what had just happened. That’s when I saw him. He was off to the side, watching it all, not in fear or sadness, but in a kind of examining way. He had a look that showed he was proud of what had happened. I knew it was him because he was the only one that didn’t have a speck of dirt on him. I could feel myself tremble from the anger boiling inside me. Slowly, I made my way towards him. Not wanting this evil man to notice me walking towards him. I walked in a curve shape to avoid being caught in his line of sight. When I got close enough to grab him, he looked over his shoulder, saw me and started to run. I chased him. We darted through people as I tried to catch up. The crowds got thicker and thicker, until all I saw of him was a shadow turning a corner. I searched and searched: in alleyways, in abandoned buildings, and in every shadow for this man. I couldn’t believe that I had lost him. I had seen the man that had hurt so many, and I let him get away. My heart had sunk to my stomach, but I wasn’t about to give up on finding this villain. I started to walk home thinking of every possible place a scum bag like this man might go, and I kept thinking until I came to the steps in front of my door.
"
I climbed them while reaching into my pocket for my keys. I didn’t have them. I had forgotten my keys when I left my home at the beginning of that horrid night. I knocked. My spirits were lifting at the thought of seeing my wife, but she didn’t come. I knew she wouldn’t have gone to bed before I came home. I knocked once more, no response. I reached for the handle. The door was unlocked. Dread shot through my body. I felt like I had been hit by a train. I ran upstairs, jumping three steps at a time to reach my wife's and my bedroom. There he was, on my bed with a knife to my wife’s throat. I was enraged, he had hurt innocent people with the explosion and now he was threatening to hurt my wife. I spoke first, ” What do you want.” “I was sent to persuade you to help us. We have been watching you, and we think your bravery and intelligence will help us with the plan,” were his first words to me. “Your way of persuasion is to injure innocent people, and threaten my wife? You are not off to a very good start.” “ I will do what I have too.” “ What is this plan of yours?” “ We want to become rich and powerful, and we want to destroy all those who do not agree with us.” “ Who is ‘us’? Who are you working with?” “ It really isn’t any of your business now is it Ben? Will you
help us yes or no. That’s your choice and I suggest you pick the former if you want your lovely wife to live.” I was so furious; I couldn't control myself. I leapt at him, throwing my entire body on top of his and pushing my wife out of the way. We fell hard to the ground. He was shocked. I took the chance to throw the first punch. I hit the side of his jaw, you could hear the sound of knuckles meeting jawbone. He grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the side so he could stand. I jumped to my feet and immediately ran at him, ramming my shoulder into his stomach. He let out a moan. It made me dig my shoulder into him either further. We stumbled back and out onto the patio, with his back against the railing. He punched my face. I was thrown off balance for a moment. But not long enough for him to escape. I leaned him over the edge, threatening to push him over if he wouldn’t stop fighting. The man looked at me and for a moment stopped fighting. I let go and moved away, watching him to see what he would do. He stood there staring at the ground. I turned quickly to look for my wife. She was in the corner calling the police and trying to find something for me to fight with. As I turned back he came at me. I was caught off guard and shoved him as hard as I could. He stumbled backwards and fell
off the edge. I ran forward to where he was hanging from the railing. “Grab my hand!” I screamed. “No,” he said, stone faced. “Just do it. I am not going to let you go.” “It doesn’t matter. I have failed. I would rather die than return as a failure. Tell my mother I have failed her.” “ Don’t do this.” I whispered, but it was too late. He had let go. I tried to reach for him; I tried to save him. Even though he was evil and had done monstrous things, I tried to have mercy, but he had made his decision. I slumped to the ground, and my wife found her way over. She sat beside me, and we waited for the police to come and find the body of the man who had let himself fall to his own death”. As Ben finished his tale, the old woman turned and looked at him with a rigid smile. “You killed my son.” It wasn’t a question. “ Why have you come to tell me this story? Have you come to kill me also?” Ben stood slowly, turned his back to the old woman, and walked to the door. Without looking back to the old woman, he said, “Why would I come to kill you? You are already dead.”
Language is a very powerful thing. It connects people to each other’s thoughts and emotions by means of sounds, lines, and swiveling pencil strokes. We can know each other’s deepest aspects. By using simple words, we become connected.
Life, if not the universe, speaks to us through language. How would we ever hope to learn about the world around us if not for symbols and numbers and letters? The world is mute if not for words. A word or a simple sentence could reveal the deepest insights of the cosmos. Mathematics, science, psychology, every field of study and knowledge is no more than a language. Language is the surface of thought, that if penetrated, can lead to deep understanding. Words are mere reflections of a writer’s deepest thoughts and emotions. The same can be applied to reality. Math and science and all else in between, may only reflect something much larger than that what is revealed. The emotion and depth of the author is tenfold that of the reader. Like a book, reality is much more extensive than we can experience. Like a novel, we can only use our imagination to fill in the blanks between the pages. We can only read the words that have been written, and we cannot hope to understand the entire world that the author intended. There is much more to life than we could ever hope to read, and" the intent of its author, may never be known. -Beth
The Art of Words
O’ how such beauty shines with eyes blue as the sea and hair dark as night. But o’ can it be? A tear falling from your sweet face. A heart shattered by a broken vow leading thee to never love again. O’ I gaze at your complexion thinking to myself would you ever love me? A simple nobody, with you, I am weak. We came from two separate worlds, different; as night from day. You feed the sorrow of love while I feel the woe, never to be.
Painful Love
By Nichole Horsfall
The Book Jumper By Raven Dawn A woman named Romana, a woman about the age of twenty-four, sat in her reading nook, surrounded by her beloved books, reading away into nothingness, surrounded by only the thoughts and adventures of the characters in the books. I wonder what it would be like to live in the world of books, I think it would be absolutely wondrous. As she looked up at her clock she sighed. Time to go to work. She stood up and got dressed, then she headed out the door. As she arrived to work, all it was, was madness. She weaved between the teachers running around like chickens without heads, trying to get ready for the day. She went into her classroom, setting down her bag that had the assignments from last week. She opened her bag to grade the last papers she did not get around to. As she graded her last paper, her first class came pouring in the door yelling loudly as they came in. And here we go. At the end of the day, Romana was tired, the day really took it out of her, as she was walking home she noticed a store that was still open, a book store, in fact. I have been starting to run low on books, one look won’t hurt. She walked into the little book store, that had stacks of books from floor to ceiling. This is absolute heaven. She walked around looking at all the different genres, she heard some books fall, jumping slightly she turned to see a few books off the floor. I must have knocked them over when I walked by. Romana walked back over to the books and stacked them in her arms, as she turned to stack them back where they were, she screamed out in fear. “Oh, I’m sorry deary, did I scare ya?” a little old woman said with an Irish accent, she was standing behind the stack of books that had fallen over. “Yes you did, you gave me such a fright,” Romana said as she tried to catch her breath. “Sorry deary, I didn’t mean to startle ya, I can be very sneaky for my old age” the old Irish woman said as " she came around the large stack of books.
“I was just looking around, thought I might go to the fantasy section,” Romana said. “Nice choice deary, I’ll show you where the books are,” the old woman took her to the section and handed her a big leather bound book. “This one is a classic deary, filled with magical creatures, kings, and danger sound like your cup of tea deary?” The woman asked. “Actually yes, I’ll take it,” Romana said. As the old woman was checking the book out to her, Romana saw something out of the corner of her eye, she looked up and saw on the top of a shelf a box with carvings on the sides. “What’s that?” Romana asked. “Oh you wouldn’t be interested in that deary, it’s a box with a leather bracelet inside, nothing special,” the woman said not even looking at her. “Would you mind if I looked at it?” she asked. “Not at all deary, knock yourself out,” she said. Romana went and reached up and grabbed the box, looking at it carefully. Admiring the carvings on the side, she opened it to see a leather bracelet, with a green stone imbedded in the middle. Romana picked up the bracelet, and looked at it, admiring the green stone. “If you were to sell this, how much would it be?” Romana asked. “You’re actually interested in that old thing?” the old lady asked. “Yes I find it quite beautiful,” Romana said. “You can have it deary,” She said. “What? Really?” Romana asked. “Yeah, that darn old thing has just been sitting up there since I got this place,” she said. Romana slipped the bracelet back into the box, and she stuffed it in her bag, as she pulled out her wallet and paid for the book. The old woman bid Romana farewell as Romama walked out the store to head home. Romana clutched the book in her arms, wanting to just read it now, and that is what she did. She opened the book, and started reading away.
It was truly an amazing book, even on the first page, she was hooked. She barely paid attention to where she was going, but somehow managed to find her way back home. When she stepped in her home she went straight upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes. Romana only put the book down briefly, stopping where she read which was somewhere in the middle of the book. When she went to pick up the book again she remembered that she still had the bracelet in her bag, she swiftly ran over to her bag and took out the box. When she put the bracelet on her wrist she admired it for a short time, then ran back over to her book. When she picked it up, the green stone started to glow. As Romana held onto the book, a big bright light filled up the room, and Romana shielded her eyes, and then she felt nothing. As she opened her eyes she only saw darkness; she could not even see her hand that she held in front of her face. She swiveled around, but saw not a single drop of light, and then Romana started to fall backwards. As she was falling she started to see stars, and then she hit ground - very hard ground. Romana wheezed as she tried to get air back into her lungs, as she caught her breath, she looked around to see where she was. In front of her there was a sign, it said that the Kingdom of Elerin was two miles up the road. Wait, Elerin, that sounds familiar. Wait, that’s the name of the kingdom in the book I was reading. Oh my goodness, I’m in the book!
A Real and Genuine Soul -Beth
A beauty beyond measure. A heart of beautiful treasure.
Hours of blank staring, time spent in pleasure. Gold and jewels too much to measure.
Not a fool…. no you are not. A hate and passion…. burning red hot.
Smiles and fame. No ounce of shame.
Souls like you are rare in this land; a soul that knows reality.
A fake and plastic soul.
Souls not blinded by mere pleasure, or who hoard in all their treasure.
Forever happy; no cares or worries. Living their lives with bustles and hurries.
A real and genuine soul.
Food and glory and joy and ease. Taking everything in that they please.
To these souls that are real, I speak to you.
A fake and plastic soul.
The most broken are the most beautiful. The ones who drift in darkness are the brightest stars of the Cosmos.
No tears, no struggles. The utterly spoiled muggles.
The ones with a troubled and weary skull.
All time spent looking for fun. Their minds, distracted; their spirits on the run.
In them, there is life; overflowing and full.
A fake and plastic soul.
But wait… can this be? Is there one among them with a soul strong and free? What’s this…. a tear? Is it true that you can feel fear? A real and genuine soul.
You can feel pain; that is good. Your not one of them…. the ones who aren’t human.
Darkness is beautiful. It shows you what’s true. Those that fear not the dark, in number, they are few. But you.... you are strong against the dark, for you have tasted its emptiness. So don’t you worry; your struggle is beautiful. It shows that you are, indeed, a real and genuine soul. Yes, I believe I have found, a true and beautiful soul.
Life is but a Dream
Lewis Carroll
BOAT, beneath a sunny sky Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July- Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear, Pleased a simple tale to hear- Long has paled that sunny sky; Echoes fade and memories die; Autumn frosts have slain July. Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes. Children yet, the tale to hear, Eager eye and willing ear, Lovingly shall nestle near. In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die; Ever drifting down the stream-Lingering in the golden gleam-Life, what is it but a dream?
Dreamlamd
Lewis Carroll
When midnight mists are creeping, And all the land is sleeping, Around me tread the mighty dead, And slowly pass away. Lo, warriors, saints, and sages, From out the vanished ages, With solemn pace and reverend face Appear and pass away. The blaze of noonday splendour, The twilight soft and tender, May charm the eye: yet they shall die, Shall die and pass away. But here, in Dreamland’s centre, No spoiler’s hand may enter, These visions fair, this radiance rare, Shall never pass away. I see the shadows falling, The forms of old recalling; Around me tread the mighty dead, And slowly pass away. Around me tread the mighty dead,
The Wolf
Nichole Horsfall
The moon is full, and the stars die out. A slight breeze flows through your fur, and i see it in your eyes; a light hazel turning red. Throughout the woods, the animals hide. Scaring away all those who live here; a low growl is heard.
I don’t run. I don’t try to hide. You are beautiful; demon of the night.... ....and I am not afraid.
Oregon By Mallory Franceschi
Last summer, I drove to Oregon with my mother. On the way to Tammy’s house (my mom’s friend,) I saw Lake Shasta. It is a beauDful sight to see, with sapphire blue water. We drove through mountains and hills to get to Tammy’s house. At Tammy’s house, I played with her sons. Later, it was Dme to go to bed. They didn’t have a bed for me so I had to sleep in a sleeping bag. The next day, I wanted to go to Denny’s for yummy French toast. Mmm, mmm! I went with my mother. Later, I went on a boat ride on the Rogue River, which has trees on the right and the leL. Well, when I was on the boat I noDced right above me there were two osprey nests and I also spoMed two bald eagles on the treetops with my very own eyes. These are known as birds of prey. ALer we passed the bridge, the boat spun and spun around in circles so that I got soaked! Oh, no! Later, at the Tokyo Restaurant, we all saw the chef do tricks with food. In the morning, we went to Oregon Caves NaDonal Monument. I asked Tammy if the cave is below the mountain but she said, “No, it’s in the middle.” Then we were on the mountain. We were almost there when I got a stomachache because of the curves. When we were finally there, we stopped by one of the giL shops where we found out that I could become a junior ranger! You want to become a junior ranger? First, you have to fill out a paper that carries facts and puzzles about animals. Then, you take it to a ranger who corrects it. If you passed the quiz you have to say a pledge and get your badge. I got my badge. ALer that, we went outside to hear the tour guide and go into the caves. At the entrance it was cold and wet so we went into the cave. I myself saw all around me stalagmites and stalacDtes. You want to know what they are? Well, I’ll tell you what I saw. They were slimy and sharp and looked a lot like icicles from the ground and the ceiling. The guide shined her flashlight on the wall. Black arrows showed the way so people didn’t get lost. Next, we saw pen wriDngs wriMen by the people who worked there. Finally, I saw bones from a bear in a case. ALer the tour was over, the guide leL and we were free to go up mountain to see the sights from higher up. The next day mom wasn’t feeling so well so we had to go home early. I really enjoyed my adventure in Oregon! "
“Stories never really end... even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don’t end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first page.� -Cornellia Funke