Sorry I haven’t posted in awhile! We have had guests and more, so I have not been able to post! I also haven’t been looking on blogs a whole bunch-I am following so many! I still like your blogs, but if you don’t notice much activity from me it’s just because I’m busy


Rutvi: Contest

This is a sad story, really. 😦 😦 😦

Prompt: Imaginary Friend

Team: Gazelle

Stay Young

The dreaded words were near: Happy Birthday. Everyone in the N.S.I.F. (Not So Imaginary Friends) told stories of that horrible age: 8. When we were truly gone. Retired, really imaginary, forgotten. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.   I scrolled through memories on my computer, my large green hands leaving a sticky residue on the keys.  I was the ideal I. F. for a boy: Snake tail, slimy, booger green, bear-like hands, everything. But soon I would be nothing more then, well, nothing.  Every I.F. tried to stop time, so that we wouldn’t fade away. But it was the same every time, it never worked. One by one everyone disappeared. And soon I would join them.

I cried myself to sleep each night, and on my boy’s birthday I got a feeling. I saw my hands disappear, then my tail.

“No!” I cried. But it was too late. I was gone.


Rutvi: Writing contest…Again!!!

Hey! My entry…again. Sorry for almost 0 details!

Prompt: Eyeglasses Forever

Team: Gazelle

How had I forgotten? I had worn eyeglasses forever-ever since I had remembered. I would automatically reach for them each morning.

As I banged into a wall I once again chided myself for forgetting. How had I forgotten? I had put them right on the kitchen counter for cleaning. And forgotten to put them back on.

“Where are your glasses, Libbie?” A voice, which I could tell only by its high pitch that it was my BFF, Emily.

“I forgot them,” I replied, finding a chair and slumping down into it.

“Ha, very funny,”

“No, really, Emily, I forgot them when I set them out for cleaning,”

“Oh,” Emily said, sobering.

“I would be very grateful if you could tell the teacher,” I said, trying to find out where she was, so I could ‘look’ at her. Because all I was seeing was fuzz.

“Sure, Libbie,” Emily said, and I heard her walk away.

Then I saw stars. Then a tiny face. A fairy, with golden hair, and delicate wings, bursting with color.

“Come, chosen one,” said the fairy, her voice bell-like.

“Chosen? What do you mean, chosen?”

“You have been chosen by the most high one.  Now come, we have a journey,” she said.

I did. And then saw I wasn’t in the hallway. I was somewhere completely different. I was in a tree.  It was bursting with life. I spotted the fairy I had spoken to, and went up to her. I was strangely the same size as her.

“No time for questions, right now,” the fairy said, which made my mouth close.  “Come, we must go, and I will tell you of your journey.





Rutvi: Writing contest

Sorry I haven’t given much info on this contest-I am just participating. To see more visit sosugarsweet.

Prompt: Countdown beginner

Team: Gazelle

The Rising Racer


The race had begun. And just as quickly as the gates went down so did my chances of winning. I wouldn’t win at this rate. I wondered my father always made me ride this horse. This horse was still very young. No matter how hard I trained I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t win.

We were in dead last, and the favorite was in the favorite spot: right on the rail.   horse racing was hard. I whipped my horse, it didn’t hurt him, it just told him to go faster. Nyquist, my horse, didn’t go faster. The bell rang and the race was over. The half mile hadn’t taken so long, but the day did.

As always, I was reprimanded by my parents. I told them I’d tried, but they didn’t believe me. No one did. At my eleven years who did?


I mounted. Nyquist, now a large horse, whinnied. He had gotten much better since my previous races.  He was even the favorite. For the Kentucky Derby. Yep, we hadn’t lost. We were undefeated, and had gone so far since my hometown races.

I waited in anticipation for the gunshot. Then it came, and the gates were gone. And so were Nyquist’s feet-well, at least it seemed like that. I opened my mouth to cheer…and got a mouthful of dirt and dust. We were in the favorite spot, and the other horses were eating our dust. We passed the half mile mark, and we were well ahead. We were winning.

My mother and father looked silly in the big hats, as they congratulated me. I had won. And best of all: I was believed in.



Here is my entry for Rutvi’s contest! Go team Gazelle!

The roses were burnt, the wedding forgotten. The queen was nothing, the king’s heart was rotten.

This little rhyme I read each night. I thought it was a fairytale. Until I saw a tower. Her hair hung down low, golden with a few streak of gray, just like the prince-but his hair had no gray.  The tower, tall and made of stone, was a prison. I had known something wasn’t right- the magic had felt different. Yes, the magic. Our town is full of it. Trolls, unicorns, everything.  But my mother says one day the magic went wrong.

The tower was impossible to climb. And falling from it meant certain death. But did it mean we had no queen? No, she was there. I saw her. I heard her voice, like honey. And the magic told me.

Kait’s AG Crafts contest!

Start a story with the words “the end”

That was the challenge. Here is my entry:

The End. Those were the words I heard every night. My brother always was the one to say them. That was before he left for college. He died before I ever heard those words again.  They all said it was from a car crash, but I’m not so sure.

I am Angelina, but everyone calls me Anne. My brother was named Andrew, and his picture hangs in the hall. Mother never talks about him, and neither does my father. That’s what makes me so suspicious.  We live in a German town, right among the ones who have ruined my life: the Nazi. Now I walk to school afraid to talk to anyone.

“Angelina, should we be doing this?” My friend, Lizzy asked.

“What else should we do? If mother isn’t letting us move why not?,” I answered. Lizzy was my best and only friend. Both our mothers lived in our German town, and we went to the same school. Now we were spying-on Nazi soldiers. We were both suspicious about my brothers death. Was he really killed in a car crash?

“We have to find out how my brother was killed,” I whispered, and Lizzy quieted down.

And I was happy she did, because at that moment we heard a voice, speaking German. I translated for Lizzy, who, unlike me, didn’t know any German.

“We must keep it a secret, this town not good for out plans, people are too nosy,” A tall soldier said.

“The general commanded for us to tell him!” Said another stocky soldier.

“If he finds we took someone-,” the tall man began.

“He won’t, as long as you keep a secret,” the stocky man said as their voices faded away.

I was baffled. Who had they taken? And why would they want to keep it a secret? Lizzy nudged me, and I was brought out of my thoughts.

“We better get going,” she said, and I nodded.

“We learned a lot,” I said as we walked towards home.

“But what to make of it? I don’t understand what the secret is,” Lizzy said.

“So that’s what we’re going to find out,” I said, sounding much more confidant then I felt.