Kids With Pens, June 25-29
This terrific group of campers wrote about Berry Doodles, Cheesecake Tigers and Burger Pugs. Things got no less crazy as the week progressed, and I heard poems written from inside the center of the earth, inside a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and stuck inside Voldemort's stinky armpit.
Laughter was abundant every day. These kids have great senses of humor and boundless imaginations. I hope to read their work again soon!
By Alexa Borden
I am writing this from inside a Ninja Turtle.
It started with a ham sandwich.
The sandwich was underdone, the customer called to the chef of whom it came from.
The chef got mad and let out a loud yell, which alerted the dogs by the well.
The dogs ran by the man about to get in his car.
They startled him, he dropped his keys, they fell through the drain on the side of the road. The man would never know where they ended up to be.
But I do in fact.
They swam through the dirty water and clogged the drain.
They were now in Maine.
A woman got mad because her water pipes were plugged up, so she hit the sink.
The ground rumbled.
I was walking along when I felt the ground shake.
It rattled and shook even more.
It knocked out my tooth and the tooth got caught in the bracelet that I wore.
That night when the tooth fairy came she offered me a wish.
I wanted to visit my Aunt Murtle, but somehow I ended up in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
by Kai Cohagan
As I am exploring the neighborhood, I stumble across a pug billboard about 50 feet up. I climb up to the top and examine the pug. Somebody drew a moustache on the pug, and I am going to find out who. Suddenly I fall into the pug picture. The next thing I know, I am laying on a floor full of pugs. But as I look up, my face covered in pug fur, I noticed that the whole floor isn’t pugs. I am just standing on a 3x3 of pugs. I stand up, then make the mistake of looking down. All I see is an endless void. All of a sudden the pugs start moving or hovering towards what looks like a mainland of pugs. The hovering pugs must be their form of transformation, I realize. Then one of the pugs says, “We are taking you to the President of the Pugnation for conviction.” To be continued . . .
By Keira Collins
I woke up in the middle of the night to footsteps downstairs. I was confused, because my parents and my little brother Ledge’s rooms were upstairs. I suddenly realized that it might be my dog, Bentley. But no, he went to bed last night in Ledge’s room. Then I thought to myself, maybe I was hallucinating.
If Ledge was here, he would tell me, “Katie, you’re crazy.”
But then I heard it again. I hopped out of bed and opened my door. I peaked down the stairs, not seeing anything. Then I hear a voice downstairs say, “Ledge Soarman.”
I heard my brother’s door creak open. I ran into my room and hid. Suddenly, I saw my brother go down the stairs. I couldn’t just stand here. I had to go save Ledge. So I crept out of my hiding place and walked slowly out of my room. Ledge was at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ledge!” I whisper-shouted.
My brother just kept going. I slowly walked down the stairs after him. That’s when I saw it––a white figure with glowing red eyes and a scary smile. That’s when it put its white arms on my brother’s shoulders.
“You’re next, Katie,” said the ghost.
Then a gust of wind pushed me backwards, and I screamed. When I looked up the ghost and Ledge were gone. I huddled in a ball on the stairs and stayed that way until morning. When my parents found me like that the next morning, I kept shaking. I kept whispering, “He’s gone.”
When my parents found out that Ledge was gone, they called the police. But it was no use. Ledge was never coming back.
by Mackenzie Lopez
I’m writing this poem from inside a cottage, inside a bubble, inside the earth. It’s rather too bright in here. Too small, too hot, too sunny, too tot. Turn out the lights, shut the windows, shut the door. It’s rather too bright in here.
Inside the Lab
By Emily O’Brien
––inspired by the TV show Stranger Things
I am writing this from inside the strange lab in Hawkins.
I am not sure this place is real.
I am not sure if I’m dreaming.
I am certain the doctors gave medicine that did something rather strange.
This room is small.
This bed smells very odd.
There is nothing to look at except the blank white walls.
I am wearing a hospital gown, but I don’t think this is a hospital.
Suddenly I hear a crashing, smashing, roaring, soaring, rumbling, bumbling creak.
I am a little worried.
I have never heard that before.
I have heard a girl screaming.
I have heard a man moaning.
But never a crashing, smashing, roaring, soaring, rumbling, bumbling creak.
I am walking toward the door to see if I may catch a glimpse of the thing that made that dreadful sound.
I am looking out the door.
And guess the thing I see?
Go on, guess.
It’s a clashing, smashing, roaring, soaring, rumbling, bumbling, creaking
It seems it broke through the wall. I wonder how it’s done that.
It seems the scientists have gone.
I am a little worried.
I am a little worried
I am writing this from inside the lab.
But no, it is not the lab.
It is so much worse.
The lights are dim and green.
Strange plants are growing everywhere.
There are ashes in the air.
Oh why are there so many slugs?
I cannot hear a thing.
I fear I have gone deaf.
Maybe I am the only one here.
Maybe I am alone.
I speak a word, “Hello?”
The only response is a twisted echo, a terrible, horrible warped and twisted echo.
At least I am not deaf.
But I fear that I am dead.
But if I am truly gone,
Then why am I so afraid?
I cannot help but wonder where the awful monster’s gone.
I do not know what to feel.
I do not know what to think.
Ok, I’m a little worried.
by Kimberley Simmons
Hello. I’m inside of Voldemort’s stinky armpit writing a story to you. It smells like a cow died in here. Voldemort is out fighting a battle, which makes his armpits extra sweaty. It is too stinky to write, so don’t mind that there are tears for my eyes. Bye for now. I’m going to rinse my eyes off with a power hose and soap.