The Butt-End

Have you ever been the butt-end of a joke? I'm sure we all have, and I particularly hate it. I have a friend, well sort of a friend. He's been drastically downgraded after this incident. It was his doing. I was in the shower, letting the warm water run all of the dirt off my shell, when I heard a scream. I jumped up at the sound, I thought it was my mother. I thought she was in danger so I didn't bother wasting time by putting on my robe, so I ran out...wearing nothing. I ran down the hall that lead to the living room where the noise came from. The only positive thing that came out of this was that I beat my previous hall-running record by 8 seconds. I reached the end of the hall and stopped dead in my tracks to see four blue herons beginning to circle me. I backed up slowly, not wanting to make them strike. I was too young to get swallowed whole by a flamboyant bird. Suddenly, the bird farthest on the left lunged at me, nearly snapping my nose off! My heart beat was going faster than it never had before. Just as I was about to run away back down the hall and hide under my bed forever, a familiar face popped up behind the long legs of the birds. Stupid Jimmy. He chuckled behind the birds (a really high, squeaky sound) and began to stroll casually towards me. There I was, standing in the middle of my living room, naked, and scared half to death. You could probably imagine my face:

 I was so furious, I couldn't even hear myself hate Jimmy. And that was the end of that.

Save the Best for Last

I walked down a dimly lit, narrow hall, each wall lined with windows. I looked through the window to my left to try and see something to give me a clue of where I was but I could see nothing. Just tall, haunting pines stood against a pitch black sky, not one star to illuminate it. There was one door at the end of the hall, cracked slightly, just enough for a bit of light to shine into the hall. I ran toward the door, expecting a way out, at least a way to get some answers. I grabbed the knob on the door and pulled it slowly. I craned my neck to look through the door. Inside sat a dark red room, warmer than the hall, filled with furniture. I opened the door all the way and walked cautiously in. A small lamp flickered yellow light in the corner, giving the room an odd feeling, a comforting feeling. I began to become drowsy, my eyelids became heavy. I stumbled clumsily to a couch that stood a few feet in front of me. I sat down and the couch squeaked. I closed my eyes only for a moment and my mind was completely at ease, I felt no worry. I opened them up one last time, and realized that all around me, lay dozens of bodies of those who came before me.

En Route

On my monotonous walk to where I wait every morning, someone would see a slowly inclining hill, lined with houses a moderate distance apart. They'd see perpetual icicles hanging like soldiers from the faulty gutters. At the top of the hill, they'd see a dim, naked forest, skeletal giants standing pin-straight against the navy sky. Down they'd go now, leaning back just a bit to keep themselves steady. Just straight from there.

25 Below?

So yeah, thanks Rochester. I hope all you locals out there are prepared for the extremely crazy freezing temperatures tomorrow. I think we're all hoping that there will be no school tomorrow. If there is not, I plan to spend my day alone, doing all of my favorite activities. These include:
Painting
Playing house in my shell (I like to be the dog)
Drinking spice teas (anything from pumpkin to mosquito)
Reading
Huddling
Timing myself as I walk down the hall
Pretending I am the chosen turtle selected out of many to possess witchy powers
Watching Netflix
Sleeping

Those are mine, what are your favorites? I know I'll be wearing my pajamas inside out tonight. Flushing those ice cubes down the toilet. Everyone do the same. Please. For my sake. I need to know that I am the chosen one. Godspeed.

I've already started huddling:

Defect: A Short Story

To keep my teachers happy at the School for Amphibians and Friends I must post some of my lengthier writing works from time to time. So, here is a story of a girl and her family, trying to get away....

My mother grasped my hand tightly as we walked briskly to our gate, our suitcases dragging behind us. My father walked stiffly, nose up, at the same pace. I stumbled to keep up until we came to an abrupt stop, causing me to slam my nose into my father’s back. He did not move and continued to face forward. We then began to walk again, my father periodically looking over his shoulder. We shuffled through our gate and down into the grey, bright tunnel that led us to the plane.

            We were quickly seated on the plane, wasting no time, and without saying a word. I didn’t know where we were going, and I didn’t want to ask. We left so quickly, with no explanation. It was very late last night when I was shaken awake and was told we had to go. That was it. Nothing else. We were escorted from our penthouse in Manhattan by men dressed in all black suits and driven to the airport in silence. And now we were leaving.

My father sat in the aisle seat and my mother sat in the middle of us. Both just stared at their feet with a grim expression on their face. I didn’t know what to think…but the longer we sat in silence, the more fearful I grew.

I got up on my knees and turned around to look at the fellow passengers to distract myself, and I looked behind me to see a man, and his cold, dark eyes staring directly back at me. I immediately whirled back around and sat down solemnly, back straight, eyes staring at the back of the dark blue seat in front of me.

            We took flight and all of my fear melted away like snow on an early spring day. I loved it, seeing the changing sky and all of the reds, oranges, pinks and yellows of the sunrise against the vast body of water beneath us. My ears popped lightly, making me feel weightless. I turned to look at my mother, softly snoring in her sleep. I leaned forward to look at my father who, with the slightest nervousness, glanced back and forth down the aisle. He held his carry-on tight in his hand against his necktie. He hadn’t let it go since we boarded the plane. What was it?

            “Daddy?” I called quietly, trying to not wake my mother. “What’s in your---“         

‘BOOM’

My back was forced against the back of my seat. Shards of glass rained down from all directions. Gusts of winds swarmed the inside of the plane. My seat belt suffocated my waist as the winds changed directions sporadically. My long hair whipped around my head as the winds took it. I heard screams and cries as unknown masses flew with great speed across the seats. I forced myself up to face the source of the wind, being a gaping hole in the side of the plane. The man who stared at me earlier was gone, his seat descending towards the earth, along with the side of the plane he took with it. Large pieces of debris flew through it, taking many things with them: luggage, carry-ons...people. A sharp piece of metal ripped free from the side of the plane and collided with my petrified mother, knocking her out and forcing her to slump forward.

            “Mommy!” I cried. I was drowned out by all of the other chilling screams.  I unbuckled my seatbelt and crouched to the floor, crawling clumsily to my mother. My father, still holding his bag, grabbed my mother’s shoulders and shook her, trying to wake her up. After only moments of trying, he turned away from her, grasping his carry-on even harder than before, turning his knuckles white.

I reached out to grab her skirt and pulled myself up, using all of my strength. I grabbed on to her waist and looked at my mother to see a large gash on her throat that drenched it in blood. Tears were unable to well in my eyes but I was crying. A mournful cry escaped my mouth as others did the same.

‘BOOM’, another explosion. Suddenly, my weight shifted, my body rose and then slammed into the ceiling. Hot pain pierced through my back and neck as they hit. The plane spiraled downward. I strained my neck to look out a broken window, and saw the dark ocean growing larger and larger, until it engulfed the plane completely.

                                                               END

Bad Day

Today was a bad day. I got up and felt something, something a little different. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was so I thought and thought and thought and thought and then it struck me. I thought I was special. I thought I could fly.

True Artist

For a while, I have been trying to learn to paint. I really do enjoy it, but some have said that my skills are less than sub-par. I really do not know what they are talking about. I always thought that my paintings were great, and I don't mean to toot my own horn but quite a few people have said I've got some talent. See, I believe I'm a true artist, in some way, shape, or form. We all are though. Here is a video of me working on one of my favorites:

Turtle's First Review

I have recently read Age of Miracles, by Karen Thompson Walker. It was a very good book. From the very beginning of the book her specific sentence structures pull you in like a fish on a hook. It is a bildungsroman, a coming of age story, so throughout the novel, you get to witness a young girl named Julia learn to deal with problems of all sorts... some worse than others. The earth's rotation is slowing rapidly, affecting more than anyone could have imagined. It affects her friends, family, the gravity, and the environment. Now I know that if the earth's rotation really does slow, I can say goodbye to meal time, no life will be able to survive.
Here is the cover:

A Foreword from Clyde the Turtle

Hello, welcome to my blog. I attend the School of the Arts: Academy for Amphibians and Friends. I am currently in 9th grade and take part in multiple creative writing courses. I thoroughly enjoy reading, and being a mixture of both a fantasist and a realist, I have read a great variety and all knowledge is stored into my walnut-sized brain.