Condolence Letter for The Guardian by Nicholas Sparks

Dear Julie,
     It's been four years now, and it's definately been hard for you. I don't know what to do with you sometimes. But, you know that Henry and Emma and Mike and I are always here for you. The dog that Jim got you is huge now. He seems to be the only thing that keeps you going. That, and your work. I know you miss Jim, but they can't bring him back. You will have to start living again, dear. You know that as well as I do. And so does Mike. I know he's got eyes for you! Let's go out to lunch sometime and talk. We need some girl time!

Love,

Mabel

Extra Blog: Julie's point of view

He's nice.
He's sweet.
He's fun.
He's my date.
He's handsome.
He's cool.
He's amazing.
He's my best friend.
What is wrong with me?
I have to choose between two guys.
But everyone already knows that Mike is the one.
Mike is always there for me, no matter what.
Mike, do you hear me?
I love you, Mike.
I'm sorry, Jim.
It's what you would've wanted, right?
I hope so...

From The Guardian by Nicholas Sparks

     In this book, the main character, Julie, is forced to face oncoming feelings towards a man that was her dead husbands' best friend. She finds herself, four years after her husbands' death, dating other men and trying to find the perfect man again. All she is trying to do is make herself and the ones around her happy.

This is a diary entry from her friend Mike's point of view.

Dear Diary,
     Well, Richard and Julie were at the Clipper tonight. They stopped by our table and chatted with Henry, Emma, and I. I suppose that Richard is a nice enough guy, but Julie could do much better than him. He puts off a bad vibe, but it seems like the others haven't noticed anything different in the atmosphere. I, myself, don't particularly like Richard at all. Maybe I'm just jealous, but I only want what's best for her.
     She looked so beautiful tonight. I just wish she would realize that I'm the one for her. Sure I'm Jim's best friend, but it's what he would've wanted, right? Someone close to her and nice... Someone that can always make her smile... Someone that Jim would've been able to count on to keep her safe. She did look happy tonight with Richard, but still... I love her and I know deep down that he is going to break her heart.

Sincerely,

Mike Harris

    

Extra Credit: Gene's Perspective

It was all just purpose.
He seemed to have everything.
Me, I have my books, and that's It.
But I'm not even sure I have those anymore.
He is ruining my life.

We stood on the limb pertruding over the water.
Everything seems beautiful from this view.
The golden glow of the sun sinking behind the horizon, leaving a small glow of light on everything.
Including Finny.
*sigh*
His movie-star tan, his perfect golden body, accented by the leftover sparkling glow bouncing off the water.
I get a thought suddenly.
A horrible one at that, and then Finny is lying crippled on the ground.
The next few days blur by.
I find out his sports career is over.
That I ruined it.
For good.
Sorry Finny, it was all my fault.
But, you ruined me first.

Extra Credit Blog: Weirdest Place I've Fallen Asleep

I was about four or five. At the time we lived up the East Boulder. Our house was pretty big, white with red shudders. Our landlords were very nice people. I always ventured over towards their horses. Horses fascinated me and still do.

Anyways, connected to the house were these stone steps. I believe they led underneath the house to a basement, but I don't ever remember going all the way down them. I would always play on the stone steps with my dog, Ginger, and here puppies. I would bring blankets and my little folding chair and play on the hard stone.

One day I brought my things outside and played with my dog, Ginger. I must have been tired because I curled up with my blankets, layed down on the little chair for it was folded up flat on the top step, and I cuddled with my dog, Ginger and her puppies and fell asleep. My mom or dad even took a picture of me like that, and I still have the picture somewhere at home today.

Extra Credit Blog: Do You Remember When...

Dear Brother,

     We were both little. I guess you could say we were always in trouble; we liked to argue a lot. We were mean to each other, but then we had some good times, too. We were always ourside, never really inside much. I remember we would go back behind the house where the gardens and trees were or down by the creek beyond our property lind. Sometimes we would even go across the road into the bird sanctuary.
     Do you remember when we went across the road with our dog, Tank? We climbed the hills to the trail we always walked up and went to the Nye farm. It was old and rundown. We picked the apples from the trees up there; they were extremely delicious and sweet like honey. We looked in the windows of all the buildings and went back for more apples. Then, in the big, yellow shop, we heard voices. We didn't think we were supposed to be up there. Running fast, we hid behind some bushes and watched carefully. Nobody came out, but we were still scared, hearts pumping hard, loud in our ears. We snuck around the building quietly towards the trail. We ran so fast and heard, until we were out of sight of the building, not sure if anyone was following us. We were so scared we would get caught. We didn't tell anyone about that event, it was our secret, and we didn't go back up there for a couple days. Now, we don't even care. We love going up ther and exploring. Something we will always love to do, no matter how old we get. Miss you lots, little brother! Stay  healthy and be good!

Love,

Your sister

Shout! By Addie Miller (Civil Rights)

Shout!
We. Are a people.
And We. Have dreams, too.
We want equal rights.
Because of our race, our color, We. Are discriminated against.
We. Are the same as Everyone else in these rooms, these streets, the corners that we walk around.
We. Are separated.
But We. Are equal.
We realize that We. Are different in a way.
That. Does not make us criminals.
We. Are a people.
And We. Have dreams, too.
We want equal rights.
We. Just want to belong.
To be accepted among You.
Please. Hear us out.
Hear our voices.
Hear us SHOUT!
We. Just want to belong.

My Jolly Rancher Poem

My Dream, My Secret Is You
By: Addie Miller

I have a secret
And maybe you can guess it.
Do you need a hint, my darling?
It's a dream, a goal, one thing I want in life.
Maybe I will tell you what it is.
But, I want you to guess first...
Please, love?
Okay, I will tell you for I can't hold back anymore.
My love, my life, a wonderful person so contrite.
You, my dear, are my secret.
The one thing I want in life.
My dream, my goal, is to marry you and
Love only you.
Do you want me, too?
I would hope so, although
This Is much to ask.
But, dear sweet one,
I love you and,
I know you love me, too.

A Typical Day of Ralph

Waking up, I go to my clothes chest and open the drawers, looking for a clean uniform. Once I'm done dressing, I walk down to the first floor of our house (we have three floors) where my breakfast of eggs, toast, and orange juice is waiting for me. I shovel down my breakfast fast for my father is waiting at the door for me. I grab my books and out the door we go, down five steps to the street below. My father walks with me to the corner, and then we go our separate ways until 8:00 at night, and even then we don't always see each other until morning comes.
Anyways, I walk to the school to the big wooden doors. The school used to be a small castle-like structure, and also, was once used as a little church. It has bee re-modeled a little to look more modern, but it still has it's deep and dark scariness to it, with sconces that still hang along the long corridors. I walk through the halls, alone and in my own little world, to each of my classes as the bells ring. The mornings always go by slow, and then lunch, with the afternoon classes flying by fast like eagles. The final bell rings at 3:30 p.m., signaling the end of the school day. I go out the big wooden doors, walking slowly around the corner to my house. I walk through the iron gates, up the steps, and through the front door. I drop my books on the bench and wait for my father to call me so I know when he will be home this evening.
Just another typical day for me.

My Fear by Addie Miller

My Fear

Walking alone.
The blackness engulfs me.
There are no stars, no moon.

The trees' branches look like long, spindly fingers trying to grab me.
Footsteps approach me.
I push myself up against the nearest tree, hoping they don't see me.

They walk, slowly stopping in front of me.
All I see are small orange embers, and the smoke that floats away from his dry mouth.
Does he see me?

My heart beats fast, like hummingbirds' wings.
Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, he moves away.
I slowly come out of the shadows, but still the night engulfs me.

Wishing you were here beside me to save me from this godforsaken fear of mine.
I am still, sadly, scared of the blackness that once again engulfs me, spirit and soul, and the things in it.

A Letter to Whoever...

Dear...

We've been on this island for awhile now, but still nobody listens to me. It makes me sad and mad because they think I'm just a fat, dumb person. They are all losing order and not thinking things through. They should have made shelters first... But no. They had to act like a bunch of wild kids and run up the mountain to start a fire.

The island is big, and it's hard to keep track of everyone. We have already lost one little 'un. No one knows where he is and if he will ever come back.

It's always hot here, and so far, we are only eating fruit. Jack hasn't killed a pig at all yet. I don't know if he will or not, though. I don't like Jack. He always yells at me and tells me to be quiet when I have something important to say. They have all forgotten what the conch means it seems. I just want to get off this dreadful island; back to my auntie. It's hard with my asthma, and there aren't many clean clothes left to wipe my glasses on.

If someone finds this, please come help us...before more of us disappear or we turn savage on each other.

Sincerely,

Piggy

Dear Diary...

1-28-94

Dear Diary,

It's been two days since I've gone to school last. There is a big 12 year old boy with orange hair and freckles all over his face that likes to pick on me. He always steals my lunch and makes fun of me and makes me drop my books all over the place. He makes me really sad and not want to go to school anymore. It's hard to not be seen by him, for he's always following me around, waiting for the right moment when everyone is watching. I tell my parents what he does to me, but they don't listen. It's like I'm speaking in a foreign language or something.

Sincerely,

The Picked-on Girl

1-29-94

Dear Diary,

I went to school today. It was the same old stuff and the orange-haired boy wasn't there today. I was happy he was gone, but I was worried about when he would come back. Maybe he moved away and I won't have to deal with him anymore.

Sincerely,

The Happy Girl

1-30-94

Dear Diary,

The orange-haired boy wasn't at school again. I found out later today that he was dead. He had killed himself because he felt so bad about picking on me. I don't understand why we would even pick on me in the first place then... Goodbye orange-haired boy.

Sincerely,

The Sad Girl