Mrs. Neville

Creative Writing

January 2013

Toree Hafen

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

1/23/13

Alexander Leviticus Power

“The name is Power, Alex Power.” he stated, sticking out his hand waiting for a handshake. I

laughed, meeting him in the middle with my own hand.

“Hafen, Toree Hafen.” I said with a smile. He smiled back, paused for a second or two and then

moved on to the next person. Our first meeting was awkward and classy, exactly like Alex himself.

I only spent a week with Alex, but he was the type of kid you could never forget. He carried

happiness in his pocket, ready to share it with anyone who wanted or needed some. He laughed at

everything, even himself. He was always making jokes, always smiling, always being Alex.

His name was important to him, he made sure everyone knew he was a Power, or in his words

that he “had the Power”. He always introduced himself with his last name, like Bond, James Bond,

thinking that had a better effect than just Alex Power.

Alexander Leviticus Power, with a name like that he could turn into a super villain with the name

of All Power, but he chooses not to. He chooses to use his power for good, to make people happy, not

for evil.

Ahriya Stucki

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

1/19/13

ABC Story: Power is Weakness

A long time ago, there once was a King in a far away kingdom called

Bargona, which was located in the country of Rome. Everyone in the King’s

land loved, adored, and respected him and every rule he made.

Cyrenius was his name, known throughout the villages of Rome for his

Deep kindness, humility, and goodness. The people could count on him for

Everything they desired. In the frigid winter, during a time of hunger and

starvation, he managed to

Feed all of his people from the Castle’s underground food storage. King

Cyrenius was

Great and wise, indeed, but he soon came to realize that his years were coming

to an end, and he was growing old and weak.

His worry began to set in about who would run the Kingdom when he was gone,

for he had no sons. There had been talk that

Ibycus, the King’s nephew, would become King when Cyrenius passed away.

Cyrenius wanted to make sure his Kingdom was well-off and taken care of,

Just as it has always been. However, Ibycus was known throughout the

Kingdom as lazy, spoiled, and rude. This troubled Cyrenius deeply, so he

approached Ibycus and told him that he had a strict plan for the Kingdom, so

the villagers could all be happy. Ibycus agreed to follow the plan, but of course

he was

Lying. The day came when King Cyrenius died. Ibycus was now king and he

was exhilarated by his new ranking in the Kingdom.

Much of the village suffered because he bought riches for himself, instead of

food rations for his people. Soon, the village became starved and the disease

rate was rising.

Now people despised Ibycus because of the many unwise choices he made.

He would always drink to temporarily take his problems away, he treated the

people of the village terribly, and he made intelligent people his slaves.

One day, he called for every woman in the village to go to him at once. He

Put each woman through several tests and trials to see who was equipped to be

both his wife, and the

Queen. He picked a sweet, beautiful girl named Valerie for marriage. Valerie

was timid and gentle on the outside, but aggressive and fearless on the inside.

The King told Valerie that he would soon over-rule the kingdom and

Rob them of their riches, making them peasants. Valerie was also the main

victim of his controlling ways. Every

Time she wanted to leave the castle, he made a guard named Xavier go with

her everywhere she went. This was so she would not tell her friends about his

cunning plan. The King

Unknowingly paired them together. What he did not know, was Xavier and

Valerie were trusting childhood friends.

Valerie told him everything about the King and his

Wicked plans for the Kingdom. They decided that they would need to make it

known to the village, so

Xavier called for a secret town meeting. They discussed what they would do to

defeat the king. While in the meeting, Xavier noticed that Valerie was missing

and he heard a loud

Yell outside. They ran outside and found that the King Ibycus ordered his guards

to threaten Valerie’s life with swords and weapons. He was furious with her for

telling the village about him. Yet, Valerie was extremely

Zealous, and wanted the best for the Kingdom. Right as King Ibycus went in to

stab her, Xavier took his weapon and struck the wicked king dead. And the

village lived happily ever after, thanks to Valerie and Xavier.

The Man in the Mirror

In America, the people have the power to change their communities and their country.

However, the only time we seem to act proactive is when a tragedy takes place. The only time

there is a call to unite is when a cause never thought about becomes a problem.

We are so powerful ourselves, this country is founded on the idea of a government for the

people, and by the people, yet we don’t usually have the drive to use our power until change is

needed.

For instance, a stoplight may not be put up until a devastating accident claims the life of a

mother, a child, a friend, or a sibling.

The devastation in Connecticut will spark a change in the way society is prepared to

defend their children and their rights, and the power we have as citizens of the United States to

change our country and communities will come to the forefront of our minds as we battle to

protect ourselves and our children. The debates about whether the government has the authority

to ban guns or exercise control over our right to carry guns, have become ubiquitous. Debates

and arguments are heard on the radio, seen on TV, and are nearly impossible to escape.

We are powerful beyond measure, and even if our efforts seem to go unnoticed, the effort

we make counts. The change we are seeking may not happen while we are here to see it, but we

can spark a change in the future. For example, Martin Luther King Jr. died before he could see

the change in civil rights and racial injustice he caused. He didn’t live long enough to see his

dream come to pass, yet his efforts changed not only the lives of African Americans but the

country of America as well. America became a country where truly all men are created equal, no

matter their race or gender.

We as the people of America need to make change on our own. We cannot wait for

tragedy to befall or the government to step in. It is our country, and it is governed for us and by

us. It is our responsibility to make the changes necessary whether it is changing injustice or

being more prepared to defend our children. It is our responsibility to stand up and take action.

No matter the consequence.

Cori Davis

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

January 23, 2013

My Guardian Angel

It bothers me that my parents think I cannot hear what they say about me.

They talk behind my back, but it’s when everyone else is around and can hear them.

He thinks everything is fine—that the words don’t prick and that the pain doesn’t run deep.…but it

does.

Most days I just want to sit and cry and fade from this world.

Nothing makes sense—my life is in the hands of a control addict….

Nothing will ever satisfy the expectation’s hungry belly;

Always a reminder of sin, never a reason to be praised.

I sit here and wonder what life would be like if I wasn’t here….and then I remember that he controls

whether I live or die.

Even if I wanted to, my existence couldn’t end.

My fate will always be decided by the power-hungry hands, never by my hands.…

Yet, there’s that one person who says I can be free; I can’t give up, the key to escape is almost in reach;

just wait a little longer.…

A little longer? That seems too long….

No, my angel says, a little is never too long. Hold on for one more day.

At the end of that one day I asked again, can I go now?

No, hold on for one more day.

Day after day that’s all he said to me,

But day after day I slowly grew to wait for it.

I yearned to hear it, to feel the comfort that came from it….the love….

I began to see the strength in me growing.

I didn’t have to be afraid anymore; I didn’t have to be my father’s prisoner.

I took back what’s mine. His lustful hands never to touch my life again….

See, my angel said, it wasn’t too long. One more day was all you needed.

He believed in me. That tiny ounce of faith brought me back into this world.

Forever will I thank my guardian angel.

He saved me from something worse than death.

He taught me how to find strength even when the world says you have none.

He instilled in me a desire to live, not just a reason.

My freedom is here.

I’m no longer in shackles.

All I needed was a push in the right direction.

Forrest Ebell

Creative writing 5B

one\many

1\10\13

I Have the Power

I have the power

To choose, whatever I wish

So why don’t I do what I wish?

Because with power, great or small

Comes the consequences, none or all

If I choose to steal, take what I want

Then I choose guilt, on the other

I can choose to help, if so

Then I choose to be proud?

No, I choose the greater good

For me or another it would not matter

I have the power, and I choose not to use it.

Aubree Lindsay

January 18, 2013

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

The Power of a Mother

In my family we always crack jokes about how any boy, or date we girls bring home,

should be scared of our father. Like most daughters, we envision our dates coming into a home

where our dad is lounging on the couch cleaning his gun. Many people say you should be scared

of a girl’s father, while this may be true, what boys really should be afraid of is the power of a

mother.

The happiness of a family sits upon the shoulders of a mother. She will raise the tides

when she gets angry, or calm the sea when she is happy. When her happiness wavers, the rest of

the family feels like they’re walking on a tight rope. One wrong word said or unsaid will raise

the winds and cause you to tumble down into a war that you will never win. But, mothers are

strong. They will stop at nothing to give the highest quality protection to their child. Mothers

stand against evil; they stand as a shield. A mom will bring down destruction upon any who dare

to even touch their child in the wrong way. A mother brings warmth into the coldest days. My

mom is the strongest influence in my life and she shows me every day the kind of woman I

should look up to and strive to be.

But, like in all wars, not all shields go unscathed, and not all hearts go unbroken. Every

mother goes through betrayal and heartbreak, pain incomparable to any other. Betrayal is a

lingering pain that occurs when someone has done something so completely wrong, they have

somehow betrayed the beliefs you once shared and decided to go the opposite way. Heartbreak is

the feeling of losing a child to death or just losing them from your life, both are equally painful.

Both of these can weigh down a heart with grief. To lose one’s child to death is a hard concept to

grasp, especially when they are so young, but something that could feel even worse is losing a

child who is still alive. To have one of your own children lose sight and remembrance of

someone they once loved and cherished can add to an already sunken heart.

So now you may ask yourself, how then does a mother not crumble into a bubbling

concoction of pain, betrayal and fear and turn into someone who is happy again? The answer:

love. A mother’s love can overpower any pain that might linger.

A mother’s love not only shatters, but can also rebuild her own heart, for love fills her

with happiness and pride, along with so many other feelings, that can drown out the bad. A

mother can do anything with the love for her children. Never underestimate the power of a

mother, or the power of a mother’s heart.

Parker Roe

Creative writing 5B

One/Many

1/23/13

Freedom is Power

Seeing that I am writing a short paper on the subject of power, I think it is best that I explain the

definition of power. “The ability to do something or act in a particular way, as a faculty or quality.” I find

it very interesting that a definition so simple can define a word with such strength behind it. When I

think of power, famous world leaders come to mind. Why? Because they demonstrate great leadership

and power, guiding their people and armies to expansion whether it is a positive or negative movement.

When I read the definition of power, the first word that came to mind was freedom, because it is the

ability to do something or act in a particular way. I also think that it is interesting that power can give or

take freedom.

We live in the great country of America, where you can just about do whatever you want where

you want to do it. That sounds like the ultimate freedom to me. People immigrated here, to this land

from distant places, to live the American dream and escape a life that was ruled by a vicious power.

Between 1815 and 1915, 33 million people migrated to the America due to uprooting caused by some

type of power. Germans were pushed out from a war and Irish were swept away from the British taking

their land. These are just two examples of many ethnicities that sought refuge in America.

America was the ideal place for people in that time. Anyone could start fresh and build a life for

themselves or their family. It was the time in which you could turn your life completely around. That

sounds like power to me. The difference between someone that radiates power and someone who

doesn’t, is their willingness to work. A quote that I love pertains to this, “Nothing worth gaining was ever

easy.” I love this quote because it makes me want to push myself harder in everything I do to become a

more experienced and knowledgeable individual. All the hard work pays off in the end anyways! Take

doctors for example, every time someone even considers becoming any type of doctor they immediately

become intimidated by the amount of effort they will have to exert. There are years and years invested

in schooling for doctors. This is a good thing though. It’s a weeding out process; the ones willing to work

are the only ones that I would trust operating on myself, or anyone for that matter. It would be a

tremendous responsibility to have a person’s life in your hands. A surgeon deals with this stress each

and every time a critical patient comes through the door. But they have put in the hard work, they have

been taught all of those long years in medical school just what to do to save a persons life. And that is

one of the greatest powers I think there is.

As I mentioned earlier a good leader has their own way of expressing their power. Famous

dictators like Joseph Stalin and Adolf Hitler chose to rule using violence, aggression, and killings of

countless people. This method of ruling worked for a time, but eventually failed them. There was no

trust between these leaders and their people, and they were in time driven out or killed. A great leader

such as George Washington was one of the most important men in early American history. He led

Americans to victory in the Revolutionary War, and became our first president. When asked if he

wanted to be president for the rest of his life; he left to go back and live on his farm. Washington served

as an example to all other presidents that preceded him. What I’m trying to get at here is Everyone has

power, what makes a great individual is how you choose to use it.

Braxton Adams

Creative writing 5b

One/many

1/23/13

POWER How did it all change so fast, one day I’m at the top of the empire then the next my kingdom

came crumbling down.

There sat a young man, couldn’t be more then 27 years of age, looking out the window

of his office, staring 80 floors down to the sidewalk. As he looked out the window his life

flashed before his eyes.

He was nothing but a boy six years old at the most when his mother died. He never

knew his father, who left as soon as the child was born. He had nothing: no family to look after

him, no food to fill his stomach, and no power. He tried to get help, but in New York no one had

time to stop and help a child, no matter what the need. Everyone hustling and bustling, it’s

amazing the boy hadn’t been trampled to death.

He had been on his own for two weeks eating any scraps he could find, covering himself

with trash just to keep warm at night, when a older gentlemen found him. Just a poor helpless

soul sleeping in a gutter was all the man saw. He picked up the child and took him to his home.

When the child woke up in the man’s house, he was alone. He couldn’t hear or see

anyone else in the house. His first instinct was to take as must food as he could, so he did. He

stuffed his pockets full and ate as much as he could stomach. While he was clearing out the

pantry he heard footsteps behind him. It was the man, who had been just outside working in

the garden.

“Take all you want”, said the man,” I have plenty to go around.”

The boy had no idea what to do, so he just sat there eating the man’s food on the

pantry floor.

“I have to go get cleaned up, I expect you’ll still be here.” When the old man returned he

found the child exploring the house looking at all the pictures on the walls. The old man told

stories to the child about every picture for the rest of the day. It was getting late, so the man

showed the child to the guest room.

The child ended up staying with the old man for weeks and they grew close. The old

man eventually adopted the child and treated him like he was his own son.

Years passed and the little child was now 17 years old. The old man was very ill and the

doctor told him he only had a few days left. The boy never left his “father’s” bedside.

“Look boy, everything here is going to be yours in a little bit, the house, everything

inside and all the money. Promise me you will remember who you are, better your education,

better yourself, I love you…”

The old man died hand in hand with the boy. The boy then thought of when his mom

died, how helpless and powerless and alone he was. Once again he had no one. He packed his

bags and left for school, like the old man wanted.

Years passed and he quickly made his way to the top of his class. He was a very smart

kid but he was driven by his need for power. He graduated at 20 years old, accomplishing what

takes some 6 to 7 years in 3. He returned to New York and started his new business with the

money he got from his father. The kid was so smart with investing and money that his business

quickly grew. Within three years he had the biggest business in all New York. He also got

married to the most beautiful woman he had ever met. They loved each other more than

anything in the world. All his employees loved him, because he was so fair to them. Society

loved him because he donated so much to schools, churches, and hospitals. He had all the

power in the world and he used it to better himself and the world.

Three years later his wife was diagnosed with cancer and she had to get surgery. The

doctors told the man that it was a simple surgery and everything would be fine. Unfortunately

that’s not what happened, none of the doctors weren’t exactly sure what happened, but she

passed away before anyone could help her. The young man was hit hard by the news. He had

the funeral a week later.

He went to work the day after the funeral. Many coworkers had tried to discourage him

from going in, and to just take some time off. He didn’t want to hear it and fired 3 people just

for caring about him. That day someone brought him his lunch, like they usually did but they

got the order wrong so he fired the one who brought it and all the cooks. He lost all his

investments and half of his staff and either been fired or quit because of how he was treating

them. The business no longer had enough employees or money to keep it running. The business

eventually had to file for bankruptcy. The schools, and hospitals weren’t receiving their normal

donations and had to raise their prices in order to keep themselves running and now hardly

anyone could receive an education or any medical attention they may have needed.

And now here was this young man staring out at what was once his kingdom. He exited

his building and headed to his old house, where he hasn’t been since his father died. He walked

for a long time until he finally reached the house. When he entered it was exactly the same. He

found a picture of him and the old man and remembered the old man’s final words and he

cried for ten minutes or so. He apologized to the old man and his wife for what he had done,

and promised he would better himself and do what’s right. He thought about when he was

young, when he had no power or money and realized that’s the only time he had freedom and

all he wanted was that freedom back, but he went the wrong way of trying to gain it back. He

then heard a loud pounding on the door. He wondered who it might be, because no one knew

he would be there. He answered the door and it was his old personal assistant, whom he had

fired.” James”, said the young man,” I’m so sorry for what happened. I really lost control of my

life.”

“ Yeah I’ll say”, replied James, “but being sorry isn’t gonna pay my family’s bills.” Then

James pulled a gun on his old boss and pulled the trigger. As the man fell to the ground, James

ran away. No help came for the man; no one cared after what he had done to their city. And

that was when the young man left his desire for power and gained freedom.

Federica Casamassima

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

1/23/13

POWER

During this same time of the year last year, I decided to start my exchange program to come to

the USA for a whole school year. I had to convince my parents, explain what I was going to do to my

entire family and to my friends, fill out a hundred papers for the organization, get a visa from the US

Ambassador, do an interview with a psychiatrist, pass some English tests and get really good grades at

school.

In Italy we can pick our school. They are specialized and focused on different subjects and

students can choose the one they like better. I decided to go to the Classic High School where, besides

Math, Sciences, History, English and Art you can write a lot and focus more on the Italian literature and

study Latin and Greek. We study the ancient Romans and Greeks, their culture, their habits and their

language. In fact we translate from Latin and Greek to Italian. This can be really cool and an excellent

way to practice for your brain or a horrible nightmare. Without knowing it I picked one of the hardest

Classic schools in Rome. I had a really hard time studying those two subjects and I started hating them,

not because they were useless and boring, but because my teacher wanted us to know maniacally every

little particular of the language and translate every single day. I had to translate Latin and Greek and

study all the other subjects everyday for four or more hours, without having anytime for myself. But it

was fine. I knew that was really going to help me once in the university and I liked the other subjects a

lot. I was always curious and ready to learn more. I had great grades besides in the Latin written tests,

but I always caught up with the oral tests that are really easy for me since I talk a lot and I was

interested in what we were studying. When I started my exchange program I had to show my grades to

my organization and get the signatures of my teachers. As soon as I asked my Latin teacher to sign it, she

totally changed her personality. She started giving me really hard written tests that I couldn’t even

understand and even if I did great on the oral tests, she graded me really bad without giving me the

possibility to catch up. Everything happened in front of my classmates who told me they noticed how

unfair it was. My teacher told me she thought that going on an exchange year during high school was

stupid and that I didn’t need to and I could go during the university. She didn’t want me to leave, she

didn’t have any reason and any right feel that way, but she did. Sadly she had the power to ruin my

chances.

My parents and I were really angry about it, we felt weak in front of the power of the school and

we couldn’t do anything. Going on my exchange experience was my dream and I wanted to leave really

bad. I thought that she didn’t want me to go because she was worried about my education, so I started

to study harder and harder. I knew everything she assigned us and I paid for private Latin lessons to

learn how to translate better. But nothing changed and I realized that it wasn’t my fault but hers. It was

too late to change schools, the principal didn’t help us to face the problem, and we had already paid a

lot of money to the exchange organization that we could lose if I couldn’t go. My Latin teacher told me

that she wanted me to study the entire summer and come back at the end of August to do a Latin exam

to prove that I was able to study by myself. That meant that I was going to leave three weeks later that

the other exchange students and that I had to start at the American school two weeks later. I had to call

my coordinator, the lady who takes care of me during my program and she had to call the principal of

the American school and ask if I could arrive late.

I was really lucky, they allowed me to come late, so I studied during the summer. I did my Latin

exam (getting a great grade) and with all the stress on earth, I left three days later.

This was my experience with power: I felt weak, angry, stupid and sad, but at the end I was able

to face it and do what I really wanted to.

Miah Saunders

Creative Writing

Place

January 18, 2013

Power; noun

1. ability to do or act; capability of doing or accomplishing something. 3. great or

marked ability to do or act; strength; might; force.

I was a car, my feet were the wheels keeping me on the ground and moving forward,

my leg muscles was the engine extending and flexing to keep my feet moving, and I was sitting

in the driver’s seat using my motivational thoughts to press on the gas pedal. It was mile 25

and I could see the crowds of people along the sidewalks shape shifting from ants into child

sized people. Cries of victory could be heard echoing down the streets. The wind became the car

radio and I was following the notes straight to the finish line. I felt like a small child back in

elementary school playing follow the leader as each person followed the next through the finish

line.

I could see the people singing words of encouragement as I creeped closer and closer

to the bright yellow banner hanging over the street, but all I could hear was the drummer in

my chest and winds pushing me forward. I looked up, lifted my arms in pride, closed my eyes

and shouted for joy as I leaped over the yellow line. I had won my inner battle to complete

my goal and nothing could bring me down from my castle in the sky. 26 miles and 385 yards,

42.195 kilometers. I built up my strength and used all the power my body could hold and ran a

marathon, step by step, body power by will power.

4. the possession of control or command over others; authority; ascendancy: power over

men’s minds.

She was a cloth doll, her hair was made of yarn, her arms, legs, face, and trunk were

drawn on with permanent marker, nothing could erase the scars. He held her arms with hands

that felt like lobster claws. Flames of red grew hotter and hotter in his deep blue eyes as he

threw her at the wall. Her mouth was a sprinkler head, staining the carpet red. Black tears

of horror fell and mingled among the colors of red. She was helpless, lost in her love for a

man with no control. Her legs were ripped out from under her and she was dead weight being

dragged down the hallway. Piercing sounds of pain shot up and down her spinal cord as her body

went into shock. The sound of her skull cracking the tile resembled a bowling ball crashing into

its target.

He knew his ‘twin’ was gone when his fits relaxed and he realized what had been done.

The water turned pink and soap stung her eyes. He picked her up and wrapped her in a towel

with the touch of an angel. Her lifeless body was laid soft on the bed and he held her close as

salty drops of water prickled her head. The power of one differs from another. Let the powerful

control and you lose yourself. His wife was dead and his other personality misused its power,

but there was only one body to be blamed.

Conner Mitchell

Creative Writing 5B

Power

As a kid all I had to do was put on my Superman muscles, tie my cape on, and in that

moment, I was the most powerful person on planet Earth. I felt like I could do anything and

nobody could stop me. I could eat whatever snacks I wanted to; play with my G.I. Joe action

figures when I wanted to, and bedtime? This was just a time for my superpowers to charge again

for the next day’s adventures.

One day I was minding my own business just battling the evils of the world in my

costume, when all of a sudden the neighbor’s evil dog burst from the fence it was trapped in and

gave chase to me. Immediately I panicked and began to run for my life, this dog was like my

kryptonite and I was completely powerless against him. But not to worry, because I had an

escape, the fence! I ran as fast as I could and jumped up the fence and just as I thought I had

gotten away clean, the dog grabbed my cape in his mouth and was trying to pull me down!

Quickly, I untied my cape and rolled over the top of the fence and fell to what I thought was my

inevitable death.

What felt like hours later, I opened my eyes and looked down, what I saw caught me off

guard and caused me to scream out in surprise. Superman was bleeding! Not only was I bleeding,

but there was something covered in blood poking out through my arm. Not knowing what it was

I did the one thing every superhero would do. I ran to my mom. When I showed her what had

happened she began to freak out and said that my arm was broken. I had no clue what that meant,

all I knew is that my arm felt like it was going to explode from the pain.

We went to the hospital to take care of my arm. After we had returned from the hospital

and my arm had been put into a cast, I realized something, I wasn’t Superman, I didn’t have

super powers, and that dog had gotten the best of me.

The weeks following were completely miserable for me. My powers were taken from me

by some evil Godzilla dog that I feared more than anything. But four long weeks later, I was

back at it. Only this time I knew what I had to do. It was time to face my fear and beat the dog. I

put on my suit again, retied my cape, and went to the neighbor’s fence. I hopped in and the dog

made eye contact almost immediately. We stared each other down for what seemed like hours. I

decided to make the first move and took a step forward. The split second I did this the dog began

sprinting towards me; I knew I had to stand my ground. When the dog was almost upon me, he

stopped. I couldn’t believe it. I had stood my ground against this evil.

After this encounter I realized that the dog wasn’t really evil, and was actually very nice.

I played with him almost every day until I moved. I also knew that my power was never really

gone, I had just lost my way as many superheroes do in their journey of becoming the greatest

superhero ever, and that is exactly what I consider myself to be.

Devan Webb

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

1/23/13

POwEr

There are a lot of keys in life; some which open doors that lead to other directions,

some that are used more than others. One of the biggest keys in life is power; power is just as

important as any other key in life. Power is the reason why people are successful, power is the

reason why you listen to your parents and teachers. Power is the reason why you tug and pull

in relationships, trying to maintain and keep it rather than giving it away.

Ask yourself how much power you have. Are you a teenager who gives away your power

to others instantly just to make friends? Are you a parent who’s constantly struggling with the

battle of power with your kid? Some of us have more power than others, and some of us are

okay without having any power at all. Every person has a different set amount of power in them

made from confidence, intelligence, fame or fortune.

My favorite part of watching people give away all of their power is in the attempt to find

a boyfriend or girlfriend. Trying to see if someone likes you by giving away power is more

common than a dog chasing a cat. It’s funny how someone can think they like someone or have

a crush, when all they know about the person is what the person wants the other to know, or

what the other person looks like.

Put yourself in a situation where you’re trying to be in a relationship with someone you

want. You start off texting them, seeing how long it takes for them to text back, trying not to be

too careless of what you’re saying. You can sit there for minutes trying to figure out the perfect

thing to say, trying to figure out if they’re just as interested as you are. At some point your

patience runs out and you have to know the answer, you have to know if there’s going to be a

chance at love. So you give, you give away your power hoping that they’re not some heart-

smasher. You tell them how you feel, you let everything out. That feeling you get when you tell

them everything all mixed up with fear, regret, shame, doubt. Yeah that’s what giving away all

your power feels like.

It’s the same basic process in any type of relationship. There’s power in friendship,

relationships with girls or boys, relationship with teammates, the list goes on. I believe the key

to power is trust, meaning you should never give any power to someone you don’t trust,

because once you give someone to much, they can destroy you with it. Which is mostly why

trust takes a long time to develop.

Kennedy Eagan

Creative Writing 1B

One/ Many

1/20/13

“Joel Sandoval was caught again disguised as a perfect suburban husband and fooled

another family in California out of fifteen million dollars. His addiction to selling and using

heroin just keeps on climbing. Police have yet to find this man so be on the lookout for a tall,

dark, blue eyed man who last went by the name of Derrick. This is channel two news recording

live on the Joel Sandoval case we will be back right after these messages.”

I turned the television off and called my friend Shiela.

“I just left the house, I am on my way now,” said Jenny.

“Okay I will see you at Wingers in a few,” Shiela replied

They hung up the phone and met at Café 440 on Rodeo Dr. When they got seated Jenny

couldn’t help but tell Shiela about how she missed her ex boyfriend and it made her feel very

lonely since her boyfriend broke up with her a year before and that she wanted a boyfriend. She

considered opening an EHarmony account, she had recently seen a commercial for it and was

very interested. Shiela thought that was a great idea so finished up there lunch and headed back

to her house and they opened an account. Within minutes they had a hit! His name was Kason

they went to his profile to check him out. Jenny was impressed with him and thought she should

message him, but Shiela figured she could do better but she did it anyways. Shiela got onto the

account and started following a bunch of random, hot, single guys in the area and she found

someone that looked perfect, his name was Brandon.

The next day Kason responded, he wanted to meet up with Jenny. She agreed so they

planned a date to meet at Starbucks the next day. She told Shiela and the next morning she drove

to Jenny’s house to help get her ready for her first online meeting. They went to Starbucks and

on the way over Jenny was ecstatic because she wanted to see if she really liked this guy, Shiela

on the other hand was not paying attention because she was so excited to show Jenny this new

guy Brandon. After coffee Jenny got back in the car and Shiela told her that she had found a new

guy and that she had already set up a date for that night at eight. She needed to meet him at

White, because it was the nicest restaurant in town. Jenny was so excited and couldn’t wait to go

out that night.

Seven o’clock rolled around and Jenny’s best friend showed up to help her get ready.

They talked about how excited she was but also how scared she was to go out with another

stranger because she remembered the story she had seen a couple days before on channel two

news. Shiela calmed her down and said everything would be fine and that she was almost late

and needed to be on her way. By seven thirty she was ready to go and getting more anxious to

leave. She hopped into her black Bentley and dashed off to White.

She had a blast at dinner; Brandon was so much fun and so perfect for her. That night he

called her to ask her if she was okay and if she was home safe. She thought it was so sweet, they

got talking and made plans to meet up the next day because they had so much fun together. For

the rest of that week they spent as much time as they could together, he always seemed so

concerned about everything and where she was going. Jenny thought it was cute that he cared so

much and that he was the perfect man. At the end of the week she was getting so busy from

missing so much work and had to go back. Brandon called her that day and asked if they could

go out to the club that night, she explained to him that she wished she could but she was so busy

with work and that she would have to catch him another time. Brandon got so mad and started

yelling at her asking if she even liked him and he started throwing a fit because he thought she

was lying to him. He started yelling at her calling her names, she could hear him throwing things

getting really upset, and he then hung up on her. He got out his heroin and shot some up, he was

aggravated and stormed to her office to see if her car was really parked there or if she was lying

to him. He waited for her to get into her car and followed her to make sure she really did go

home that night, and that she was alone.

That night he called her up and was acting very strange. She asked him if everything was

alright, but since he was on drugs of course he wasn’t, he was acting delusional and saying really

aggressive things and threatened to kill himself so she rushed to his house just so he didn’t

commit suicide. When she got there, he answered the door but wouldn’t open it all the way. She

had to slip into his house and he slammed it behind her. She was getting really worried and

started to panic. He told her to have a seat, she glanced at the couch and it was a mess, stains and

dirt all over it, but she didn’t want to be rude so she sat anyways. He offered her a drink and she

accepted.

“Water please,” Jenny replied.

He waltzed into the kitchen and got her water, while he was gone she looked around the

house and saw a bunch of needles and other things. When he came back, she asked him if he

took any substances he shouldn’t be taking, he got really angry and pinned her to the couch and

said, “Don’t you ever accuse me of doing drugs ever again.” She didn’t notice but at that time he

slipped his hand into her purse and took out her wallet. The door bell rang and someone yelled

out the name Joel. He jumped off of her, tossed the wallet under a pillow and looked out the

window to see who it was. He went into the kitchen, got a baggy of something, opened the door

and handed it to him while also taking something from him. No words were exchanged. He

closed the door and turned to face Jenny. She had a terrified look on her face and didn’t say a

word. He told her that she needed to go and Jenny dashed out of his apartment and ran to her car.

On the way home she called her best friend Shiela and explained to her what she had seen

about how she thinks that he was a drug addict and a dealer and they were both freaking out

because they thought he was the perfect guy. Jenny told Shiela she was on her way to her house

and to come over. They both pulled up to the house at the same time they ran inside and locked

the doors freaking out that he might have followed her home. Jenny reached into her bag to get

her cell phone and realized her wallet was missing. Shiela googled Brandon and nothing came up

and while she was doing that Jenny pulled up her bank accounts to make sure everything was

still there. In the last twenty minutes, all of her accounts were cleared out and everything was

gone. While she was staring, stunned at the computer screen, Shiela turned the tv on and on the

screen was Brandon, only they said his name was Joel Sandoval. Everything all started coming

back to Jenny and she realized the person she had been seeing was really a crook.

She hurried and called the police and was hysterical, she explained to them everything

that had happened about how she met the guy and about the drugs she had seen and that all her

bank account were cleared out. She hung up the phone and in about five minutes an officer was

knocking at her door to make sure her and her friend were okay. Another cop car drove to Joel’s

place and arrested him on the spot. He is now serving life in prison and will not have the power

to control another woman ever again.

Sam Christensen

Creative Writing 5B

1/18/13

One/Many

Victor’s Power

Power: great or marked ability to do or act; strength; might; force. Who knew that something so

intangible as power could have such an effect on how some people get to live their lives? People with

power control those who are underneath them and those who get in the way of such power sometimes

end up hurt very badly or even worse, killed. The amount of power someone can possess is determined

by multiple things that range from tangible to intangible. “There is power in numbers,” is a true

statement that illustrates how people want more power.

In the big city of Los Angeles, California lived a man by the name of Victor Gallanari. Victor was a

notorious thug that had much of Los Angeles’s drug and gang related population under his power. Victor

was a respected man because of how and where came from. Victor worked hard every day from the

young age of twelve when he was introduced to the gang life. Victor had no fear and always kept his end

of the deal, no matter how big or small the task, he got it done. He slowly but surely started to gain

more power within the gang and it fueled his fire.

Victor was a power hungry mad man and worked did whatever it took to get recognized, even if

it involved taking the life of an innocent person. Soon Victor was in charge of blocks then communities,

then districts, and then finally when he saw his chance for the top, he took it. Victor had done it; he had

become the greatest and most feared thug in the Los Angeles area. Because he was at the top he gained

many followers and many workers underneath him, which gave him a lot of power. Victor made

countless amounts of money and had the girl of his dreams right beside him in their mansion

overlooking the Los Angeles area.

After 30 years at the top Victor became old and the effects of his smoking and drinking lifestyle

made his body age faster than his mind. Victor soon started to see changes in the way his gang was

being run and he didn’t like it one bit. Some new blood had worked its way up the chain and threatened

the position Victor was in. Victor was too old to battle this young fresh thug, and was slowly starting to

lose his power. The loyalty of his fellow members started to decrease which meant his numbers were

going down. Numbers don’t lie and when the new thug had more followers than Victor it was only a

matter of time before Victor was either killed or had to move into hiding. With a decrease in power,

Victor also saw a decrease in the things he loved most, like his wife who eventually left him completely

because he wasn’t a big shot anymore.

After realizing what had happened to his life Victor gave up all power and worked

underneath his old position. Victor had lost everything he knew and loved. His power, wealth, family,

and security were gone. Once Victor lost his power, he lost everything, which is exactly the kind of force

power has. Power: great or marked ability to do or act; strength; might; force.

Noel Grantham

Creative Writing

01-18-13

5B

Dear Brother of Mine

When someone asks me, “How many brothers and sisters do you have?” I normally respond

with saying that I have two younger sisters. What I normally don’t bring up is that I have a half brother

somewhere in the Unites States of America.

I met him when I was only about four of five years old at my great-grandma’s house in

California. I don’t remember him at all whatsoever. I really don’t like the fact that I don’t remember my

own brother.

About two yers ago I was on Facebook, looking around for fun. Then all of a sudden my Dad’s

former girlfriend came up on my friends list. I suddenly had th urge to look for my brother, Nathan, on

Facebook. I had found him and sent him a friend request. So many things were going through my head;

will he remember me? Will he even accept my friend request? I didn’t know but I was excited and scared

at the same time.

I would constantly check Facebook to see if he had accepted it yet, and he didn’t. It hurt

because I would see him updating his status, commenting on my families stuff, and just being online. I

let the whole thing go and eventually forgot about it.

About two months later, I had gotten out my last period class and started heading to the gym

locker for basketball practice. I was getting changed when my phone rang. I knew it was an email by the

sound of the ringtone. After getting changed, I looked at the email and it was an email from Facebook

with an unread notification. I opened the email and it was from my brother. He had accepted my friend

request and wrote on my wall. I was scared , nervous, and excited all at the same time because of the

post he had written on my wall. I was almost in tears when I read it. He had wrote “Hi. I don’t really

know how to go about this, but you’re my sister and I’m your brother. I know we’ve met a couple of

times and you probably don’t remember, but I do. I really want to get to know you and our other sisters.

I love you.”

I was in shock. I messaged him and we talked for a while. We talked about how he was going

into the National Guard and he asked about my plans for the future. One day I had found out that my

Grandma, my Dad’s mom, weas coming out to visit us. Nathan had beein living with my Grandma and I

wondered if he was coming down too. I messaged him on Facebook and we talked like we always did

and then I asked if he was coming down to see us and his Dad. He never messaged me back, and ever

since then we haven’t spoken.

I knew the familt history with Nathan, considering he’s my dad’s son and I had asked about him

when I was told about him. From my Dad’s side of the story is that Lisa had gotten pregnant at a young

age. Lisa’s mom was incredibley angry at the fact that this happened. So mad that Lisa’s mom refused to

let my Dad see Lisa.

Even though my dad was becoming a father at such a young age, he knew he loved Lisa. My Dad

asked Lisa to marry him and Lisa refused. Ever since then their relationsuopship went downhill. My dad

moved on and found my mom and they had moved to California, leaving Lisa in Texas. Lisa eventually

found out that my dad had met another woman and then all of a sudden Lisa wanted to get married to

my Dad, now.

My dad didn’t want anything to do with Lisa until Nathan was born. Lisa ended up keeping

Nathan from my Dad because my Dad refused to marry her. She never wanted to get back with my Dad,

she just wanted child support. Lisa told Nathan that our family wanted nothing to do with him, which

wasn’t true. As Nathan grew older he had gotten into some trouble and from the last I have heard he

was trying to get his life together.

The moral of the story is that Lisa, as a mother, had so much power over Nathan that she

completely brainwashed him into thinking that he wasn’t loved by anyone but him mom. Now I’m trying

to get back in touch with him over Facebook, because that’s the only way I can get a hold of him. I wish I

had more power as his sister.

Mothers have a ton of power over their children. If mothers raise their children right, everyone

will be happy and the kids will turn out to be wonderful people in life. In this case, Lisa had brought up

Nathan without a father figure and told him things that weren’t true. This all lead Nathan to get into

drugs and alcohol and make terrible decisions in life. He went to rehab for his addictions and he is now

going to school to be a Vet Tech.

Ryleigh Bakker

Creative Writing 5B

One/Many

January 18, 2013

Powerless

Sitting on her bed with headphones in her ears,

To anyone else, it would be normal,

To her, it was escape

It was feeling.

It didn’t seem like that long ago she was smiling,

She was genuine and kind,

But time,

Is a funny thing.

Her life was ruled by monotony,

Sleep, wake up, survive,

Repeat,

Repeat.

It wasn’t going to change, at least not soon,

And for that,

She laid her head back

as the tears fell.

Sarah Ball

Power can be wanted by many people

Some will do everything to get power

Everything to the point of the steeple

Or to the very top of the bell tower

Sometimes power can be misunderstood

When you’re in the dark you can use power

But power can also be used for good

A leader with power can empower

Some people use power in a bad way

Men with power can be very sour

Women with men that have power can’t stay

Leaders with power control the hour

So, if you get anything out of this,

Use power for good and you won’t be missed

Shae Jolley

The Boss

Sitting in a small cubical, with papers flying over my head. Trying to concentrate on my work in

front of me thinking that if I don’t get this article written I will be fired. When through the chaos of the

reporting world of I hear the deep, steady, even footsteps that sound so haunting of the editor coming

down the hall. My heart quickens as my fingers move faster.

“Do you have that article done?” comes the frightening voice that I was dreading.

“Almost sir, just a few more things than I will have it ready to go.” I say trying to sound more

confident than I am.

“I was expecting that paper on my desk two hours ago. Now I was being nice and letting it slide,

because of what happened to your family, but this is unacceptable. If I don’t have it in my hands in ten

minutes you are fired.” Turning away from the cubical he storms down the hallway while everyone

slides off to the side trying not to turn into the next victim of the rage.

Ten minutes, that all I have? There is no way that I can be done with this article in ten minutes.

As I take in deep breathes trying to calm myself my eyes catch the picture hanging up of my family.

Could it already have been a year? Not aware of the time passing I look at the clock to see how much

time I have, when I hear those familiar footsteps coming back my way.

“I don’t have the article, and I am sorry to say that I need you to clear out your office.” I hear the

deep voice say to me in a sympathetic but angry voice.

I pack up the few things that I had in my office in a small box. The drive home was a shorter one

than I remember wondering how I am going to keep up the rent on the apartment that I am living in.

Copeland Larsen

Period 5(B)

Creative Writing

One theme/Many writers

The Power of Choice

When most people think about power, thoughts of the large mega corporation stepping on

a small business could come to mind, or possibly thoughts of an abusive lover or family member

destroying the innocence of world. When I think about power the first subject that appears in my

mind is the power of choice. From that I look into the consequences that come from a choice, if

the amount of choice we have and if that is too much, and the illusion of choice in modern

society. Living in the United States we are almost always surrounded by choice. From the color

of car we want, to the religion we choose to believe in, our choices reflect who we are as people,

who we are culturally, and who we are as a species. What are the effects of our actions?

When I was a child, my mother would scold me when I did wrong. Yet when I continued

to make trouble my mom would just let me go free, until I got hurt, then she would pick me up,

give me a kiss, and tell me, “Now you know not to do that.” Since I was little I have always

known that there would be consequences to my actions. Yet there where many times were I

would still rush into something blindly, never considering the outcome. These choices never

ended up without regrets. But, when I thought about the consequences of my actions, the choice

became clear. Many people today don’t look ahead to the consequences of their actions, if our

most recent recession is any evidence. When a person walks across a street does he not look for

signals of safety first? Said person could be hit by a car if they were not careful. If we as humans

thought about the consequences to our actions more often, than many of the problems plaguing

us today would be non-existent. But in an ever changing world, is the amount of choice we have

to varied?

Anytime I take a trip to Las Vegas, someone always suggests that we go to one of the

shopping malls Vegas are known for. These mega-monstrosities hold every type of store

imaginable, from Hawaiian clothing stores to rare book collectors; the mall is the modern version

of a merchant’s market. There are so many choices to fit my fancy that I never get around to

finding something that I need. Herein lies the problem; with so much choice around us, how do

we know that our choices are really going to satisfy us? We live in a world where choice is in our

face 24/7; every single miniscule decision is advertised so much that our minds, bombarded with

endless information, turn to mush. Choice brings the key to our worldly vices, and therefore

choice should be held to the same standard of moderation that we hold the rest of our daily lives,

right?

Choice, like any subject, is endless in bounds, yet we as a society make a big fuss about

choice. Everything we do in life is seemingly recorded so as to put the full front of our emotion

in each decision. Yet whenever I have made a decision about most anything, I feel that since I

made the decision that said product or service should meet my high expectations. I am usually

somewhat disappointed or regretful of my choices because of the responsibility I held in the

making of said decision. Should we as humans be responsible for so many choices, or should we

put our fate in the hands of a higher power?

Growing up in Utah I have learned quite a few different beliefs held by the Latter Day

Saint faith, one of these is the power of free agency, or the power to do what you want but that

your actions lead to the consequences that follow. Yet I find that many LDS people are very

restricted, living with an illusion of power that is not exactly there. I always hear stories from my

friends about how their parents or superiors are pushing them towards the same goal of being a

missionary, or how they can’t see the latest movie because it’s rated R. Now I didn’t exactly

grow up outside the church, but I have always felt that (at least in my experiences with the

church) that even though the church preaches enlightenment there is this sort of hive mind

cultivated into the culture of the church, that even though you are your own person, the thoughts

of one person matters more than your own. I, at times have come at odds with myself when it

comes to the subject of this illusion of freedom, but I felt that the point needed to be discussed

here more than anywhere else.

From all this thought I find myself at a crossroads, questions that stem from other

questions, although it’s probably human nature. Do the consequences of our choices really

matter? Are we, in some way more or less responsible for our choices with the amount available

to us? Is there only an illusion of choice propagated by our society? Or are the choices we make

truly and genuinely ours? In life the choices we make are so often scrutinized that we as people

must make a stand for ourselves by limiting ourselves, to take less time with the small stuff and

focus on the things that really matter in life, to do something that makes a real lasting impression

of usefulness on ourselves and the world around us.

Marchelle Lundquist

Creative Writing, 5B

One/Many

1/23/13

War

It is a complicated, complex thing.

I would know.

I came here from fear

of a white

feather

Given to cowards

And granted by those who have no idea

What it means to be

scared,

frightened

And powerless; after given power to kill.

We were told it was our duty.

We owed it to the country

Because it gave us all we had.

But when I dig my knees into the ground

And look at that battered

and disfigured flag,

I wonder:

Why are

those with the real power

not here

with their knees in the ground

Fighting

Their war?

Lynsee Loperena

Creative writing

One/many

1/20/13 My First Job

Getting your first job can be very scary and exciting at the same time. In October of 2012, I was

hired at a retail store making this my very first job. I showed up to work my first day unsure of what to

expect but really excited to be making my own money. The first day went well, I met the team members

and was introduced to what I would be doing daily. Everything seemed good, I mean it was a job, what

more could I expect. By the end of the week I knew my schedule and would be working about two times

a week for five hours each shift.

When I got to the second week I started working with different co- workers. They all seemed

pretty cool except for one in particular. When I was out on the floor working, I could tell she was always

watching me and it felt like she was always waiting for me to make a mistake. When I was told that she

would be training me, I wasn’t too happy because I could tell she already had something against me. She

liked having power over me and some of the other girls because she was older than most of us. As she

started monitoring me while I worked the cash register, it felt like I was being criticized for every little

thing I did. The last time I checked, I thought the people training you were supposed to be nice and

helpful but, no not her.

What kind of sucked was I found out I was the only one in high school, everyone else was

graduated or at least in college. Since I was the youngest, I think it was easier for some of the workers to

take advantage of me, especially the one training me. After about a month of this job I was done. I

dreaded going to work and it was starting to affect my grades because of the hours and getting home so

late. I finally called my boss and told her it wasn’t working out for me and that I would be putting my

two weeks in. A few days later I got a phone call during lunch. My boss had called to tell me they had

found someone to take my spot and that I wouldn’t need to come in again. I was so happy and relieved I

didn’t have to go back.

I’ve come to realize that this job has taught me a lesson. The lesson is that I will hopefully not

ever have to work at a retail store again and to make sure my hours will be able to work around my high

school schedule. But the main factor is that I went out on my own tried something new and didn’t like it.

I’m going to have other jobs in the future that I may not like, but I will just have to work through them.

My first job can help me understand that there are people that like to have power and control over

everyone else but you just have to learn how to handle them.

Bree Nyberg

January 14, 2013

Neville7B

Sonnet

The Curse Of Power

To have power is to have all control.

Power is a harmful state of mind.

Living this way can really take its toll.

When you have power, it’s hard to be kind.

Power is a negative way of life.

Families are often left in pieces.

The ones you love can’t help but be in strife;

You can’t stop and just go out to recess.

Sometimes people act like they are just fine;

They blow it off like it’s not a big deal.

But the truth is, they are sad all the time.

Try their best to hide how they really feel.

Power in moderation is okay;

A special person can know the right way.