Confession Tuesday

Confession Tuesday

1. I come inside with muddy shoes and leave a trail of mud (again.)
2. I went to the mall with my mom's money and haven't gave her the change (shhh....)
3. I went outside with my friends before I did my homework (Yeah, like that was the first time.)
4. When a person asks me a question, I say, "No comprende Espanol." To avoid confrontation. (hehe)
5. I yell at my little brother constantly, (Even though it's his fault)
6. I left a huge mess for my maid to clean-up (I wouldn't blame her if she quit.)
7. I tried to bribe my brother into doing a favor for me (Yes, I'm lazy.)
8. I ruin my school clothes daily (again with the mud.)
9. I have a crush on the bad boy (not telling who.)
10. One of my best friend's mom hates me (my fault.)

                                 -Paola Rivera

         I run because....

my neighbours

leave their dogs outside.

And when and when my bus leaves me

in my neighbourhood ,

I must run through streets of dogs.

I was young and afraid

of dogs, when my

neighbor got a new dog named Lacy,

who was the only dog

who didn't know my scent.

That day, the first day
I ran,
the bus left me,
Lacy was outside
glaring, growling, gaping
at me.
I took my first step
growling, snarling, barking.
Another step, same reaction.
Lacy was ten feet away,
but when she launched,
Houston we have a problem.

Step by Step
Running Faster.
Step by Step
Growling lounder.

Sweat running
down my neck as I ran.
But instead of fear prevading
throughout my body.
It was excileration, and excitiment.
The wind in my face,
my hair air-born.

Everyday Afterschool
Lacy and I ran.
Those chases and space walks that
we ran together.
It helped me overcome
my fear.
But even though I was never afraid again
I still kept running.

Victim's Poit of view

The Tell-Tale Heart Challenge
Today's Wordly Wise Wednesday challenge is to create an account of the murder from the point of view of a murder victim, suspect, police, or witness based on the details from "The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe.


The Victim's point of view.


     One night, of pure darkness, pitch dark and alone, The old man prepared for bed. Clad in warm blankets his eyes quickly fluttered shut as he rested. But his rest was disturbed by a chuckle he heard in his room that electrrified him and left him scared and shaking. Relax it's nothing but the wind in the chimney, or a mouse crossing the floor, or merely a cricket that has made a single chirp.  But inside he knew it was much more than that. And despite that frightening chuckle heard in his pitch black room, he only turned on his bed gingerly. Waiting and listening for what would happen next.
     Then the swish of a persons thumb slipping upon the tin fastening of a lantern from a cursory movement, made him sit up in his bed, "Who's there?" And then he finally derived who it was, it was the same person coming into his room every night for the previous seven days. And even though the old man never insulted or wronged him there he was in his room for the eighth time in a row. He imagined his cold, grimace on his serious face as he scanned the room in a cursory.
     Still electrified by what was happening in the pure darkness of his room he stayed sitting up. Unfortunetly his surmise was corroborated when his eye was clad in a lantern light  His heart was pounding, his eye was wide opened, and his mouth was dry with dehydration. Then the lantern flew opened, a loud yell followed piercing his soul like a knife. He was hit and dragged onto the floor. And the last thing he saw, the smile upon his gruesome and his abrasive face swallowed me in complete fear and frusation even before the matress did. The old man's endeavor was a complete failure compared to the murderer. His heart beat grew louder and louder. Until he finally succumbed. His heart was pounding, his eyes wide opened, and his mouth was dry with dehydration. 


                                                                  -Paola C. Rivera

P.E. Slacker

P.E. Slacker
By:Paola Rivera

      I'm the kind of girl you would never see in a gym...unless if I was forced to. And this year in Balboa Academy I was, unfortunetly, forced to. I always seem to end up doing the opposite of what the coach says. I f she says run, I walk when she looks away or turn her head.
      I'm probally the worst P.E. student you ever met, and probally the best P.E. slacker too. When we play soccer, it would be the only time you see me run, but it's not the kind of running the coach wants to see, because I'm running away from the ball. In basketball, I'm not running, I'm talking with Camilla (even if she's on the other team, which seems to get my teamates mad) while my teamates are yelling at me to get the ball or block someone.
       It's not that I'm lazy, I'm just really bad at sports and if you don't believe me, believe this story because it's true.
                         It was raining so we stayed inside to play ping pong. I was kind of excited because I thought i would be good at ping pong (boy was i wrong). Everyone kept trying to tell me that I was supposed to bounce it, so i did, on the ceiling. But that wasn't the worst, next, I bounced it on a guy's head (sorry Daniel). I gave up after that.

CONFESSIONS OF A TEENAGE P.E. SLACKER

Stereotyping

Stereotyping

Paola C. Rivera

I'm sitting on the bench of the park in my neighborhood watching boys playing football. I'm dying to play with them just wondering how to ask them. Just my luck two girls that I just met minutes before, came and sat about three yards away. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but in reality I did.

"I really want to go play," Said the first girl in spanish. 

I also noticed that they had a huge advantage over me, because they knew all the guys that were playing and I only knew one. So I went over to them and sat down. "Hey I heard you talking, I really want to play too." And then just like that, I was playing with all the boys. The two girls I guess got bored and left, so I was the only girl there.

The second we started to play I noticed that they didn't exactly treat me equally, just because I was a girl. I was really mad because I hate when people do that. So I taught them that, girls can play football. If there was one thing I know about football is that you should tackle anyone who has the ball and so I did.

                                                               -Paola C. Rivera :)

Short-fused, Tempered
girl.
I always seem to come to you.
Blowing up in your face,
for nothin you could do.
This year i hope to be a better daughter.

Saing good-bye to you,
every single day.
But it never seems like
i say hello.
Your eyes
Your face,
It says it all.

Sometimes-
 I ignore.
Sometimes-
I lie.
But when you think
I'm not looking.
I can see-
How much i hurt you.

Every night-
before i sleep,
I'm thinking of you.
I regret it.
I regret saing what i did
that day.

All the words-
I ever said,
that hurt you in some way.
All the words-
I ever yelled-
that broke your heart in three.