It was a cold night at the campsite and the wind made it hard to hear. But Bib could hear the front flaps whipping against each other. Bib got up and walked across the pitch black hut and outside into the night. He was attacked by the forceful wind and was almost knocked over. Slowly, Bib made his way to the fire and sat on a log, the wind at his back. Bib recognized the chief’s quiet but deep voice conversing with another man.
Bib sometimes felt that he was invisible. He would be with his tribe and no one would talk to him but Bib would stand around silently listening. In this way he found out useful information.
So there he was warming himself up, unintentionally eavesdropping on the chief and a man that Bib deducted to be the head hunter, Meham.
“The animals have been disturbed by the Otahaff’s seasonal hunting trip that has just finished. So the surviving animals have migrated up towards the mountain.”
“So you are suggesting a hunting trip?”
“Yes I am, I hear from the oracle that this winter will be long and harsh. So before the animals go into hibernation, we should stock up on meat.”
“I agree. I will gather the best hunters of the tribe and prepare them for a hunting trip.”
This hunting trip was just another reminder to Bib about how he was a failure. The hunters were admired and praised for providing food. Bib knew he would never be a hunter for he could not see. He felt left out and disconnected from the rest of the tribe. He wasn’t allowed to do anything on his own.
On the day before the trip, the hunters prepared their bow and arrows and packed for a week in the wild. Bib sat near the hunters and helped out with random preparations. He was once asked to sharpen an arrow. Bib took the arrow in his hands and felt it. He imagined the feeling of this arrow piercing his heart. He heard the cheers of the hunters and the moaning of the animals. Bib felt angry. He hated the idea of hunting it made him jealous and weak at the same time.
The next morning, Bib followed the hunters into the woods. He wasn’t sure what the reason was for this but it made him feel good listening to the hunters whispering and be able to feel the excitement. Bib followed a good amount behind the hunters but he could easily hear where they were going. The paths seem to be well traveled and all Bib had to do was be quiet. Bib planned on following the hunters the whole time he would sleep near them and at night take some left over food.
Bib woke up in the middle of the night and silently made his way to the fire. He felt around for the basket of food. When he found it he reached in to see what he could find. After eating the leftovers, Bib quietly followed the warm air to the dying embers of the fire he sat there thinking. Why had he come on the trip he thought? What was he going to do? All Bib wanted was to fit in. So later when Bib was making his was back to the hiding spot to wait for morning, he stepped on a piece of wood which Bib realized was a bow. He found an arrow nearby. Bib held these two things in his hands and sat down. After a few minutes of imagining himself shooting the arrow into an animal and being cheered on by the hunters he heard a noise. He jumped over a nearby rock and squatted there, bow and arrow in hand. He heard rustling of leaves and thumping on the ground. Bib suddenly was worried when he realized that he had left the food basket open. The whole forest of animals could probably smell the food. Then Bib heard the Indians waking up and realizing what danger they were in. Bib came out of his hiding spot- he had to help. Once in the view of the Indians, now angered with Bib as well as fearing the bear, Bib heard a load growl to the left of him. Then he heard feet pounding closer and closer to him. The thumps were shaking the ground and Bib could almost see where bear was. As he turned towards the bear he placed the image of the bear right in front of him and pulled back the string on the bow and much as he could then with a steady hand, released the arrow. Bib heard the arrow piercing the skin of the bear and felt a huge thump as the bear fell with a struggle.
Now his tribe was cheering as a few Indians surrounded the bear to finish killing the beast. No one seemed to notice the food basket being open for the tribe honored Bib and appreciated him for his services. From that day on Bib was included in all of the hunting trips and designated as the look out boy and the boy who could sense the presence of animals.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Bib
so this is probably the worst story i have ever written. I just can't be creative right now. i try---but i just can't. so i will make it really good for next draft but for now- this is all i have. oh and the names are really uncreative and stupid- i will fix that. don't judge me.
It was a cold night at the campsite and the wind made it hard to hear. But Bib could hear the front flaps whipping against each other. Bib got up and walked across the pitch black hut and outside into the night. He was attacked by the forceful wind and was almost knocked over. Slowly, Bib made his way to the fire and sat on a log, the wind at his back. Bib recognized the chief’s quiet but deep voice conversing with another man.
Bib sometimes felt that he was invisible. He would be with his tribe and no one would talk to him but Bib would stand around silently listening. In this way he found out useful information.
So there he was warming himself up, unintentionally eavesdropping on the chief and a man that Bib deducted to be the head hunter, Meham.
“The animals have been disturbed by the Otahaff’s seasonal hunting trip that has just finished. So the surviving animals have migrated up towards the mountain.”
“So you are suggesting a hunting trip?”
“Yes I am, I hear from Gofeni that this winter will be long and harsh. So before the animals go into hibernation, we should stock up on meat.”
“I agree. I will gather the best hunters of the tribe and prepare them for a hunting trip.”
This hunting trip was just another reminder to Bib about how he was a failure. The hunters were admired and praised for providing food. Bib knew he would never be a hunter for he could not see. He felt left out and disconnected from the rest of the tribe. He wasn’t allowed to do anything on his own.
On the day before the trip, the hunters prepared their bow and arrows and packed for a week in the wild. Bib sat near the hunters and helped out with random preparations. He was once asked to sharpen an arrow. Bib took the arrow in his hands and felt it. He imagined the feeling of this bow piercing his heart. He heard the cheers of the hunters and the moaning of the animals. Bib felt angry. He hated the idea of hunting it made him jealous and weak at the same time.
The next morning, Bib followed the hunters into the woods. He wasn’t sure what the reason was for this but it made him feel good listening to the hunters whispering and be able to feel the excitement. Bib followed a good amount behind the hunters but he could easily hear where they were going. The paths seem to be well traveled and all Bib had to do was be quiet. Bib planned on following the hunters the whole time he would sleep near them and at night take some left over food.
The first night he fell asleep about 20 yards away from the campsite of the hunters. He thought he would wake up and hear the hunters. Bib woke up and stretched out he felt good after a long sleep. He felt the midday sun warming but he was still cold. When he realized where he was he was nervous. Where were the hunters? Had they left already? Bib was filled with dread. He slowly crept towards where he thought the campsite was but he didn’t hear anything. When Bib felt around all he felt was the dusty ground and some hot ashes from the fire. Bib felt insecure all alone in the wild.
Bib was calmed by the thought of the surrounding animals that seemed so innocent. He felt like an animal that had been betrayed by his species and left all alone. Bib got up and started pacing wondering how he would get back. All of a sudden Bib heard a whining. He spinned around and reached forward. He let his hands guide him to a heap of messy fur. Bib pet it like a cat. Then he heard something disturbing the woods around him. He heard heavy breathing and felt the ground thump. All of a sudden he felt a claw on his back ripping through his skinned. Bib whimpered and tried to scoot away from the attacker presumably the mother bear. Bib should have known the bear would defend her young. Bib was curled up on the dirt his head tucked in between his knees. Then the most unusual thing happened. The bear was licking him. Licking the wounds. Which bear it was, he had no idea. But he felt loved and cared for. The bears felt sorry for them. Bib was actually sad when the licking stopped and the bears thumped away.
But later that day, Bib heard the thumping again and hoped it was the bears. He followed the thumping across the campsite and down near a river. At the bank of the river Bib lay down on the moss and curled up. He was getting cold and he could tell the night was approaching. He heard the bears walk around near him for a while before e fell asleep. When Bib woke up the next morning he reached out his arms and felt the same messy fur he had felt the day before. And for once Bib felt relieved and loved.
It was a cold night at the campsite and the wind made it hard to hear. But Bib could hear the front flaps whipping against each other. Bib got up and walked across the pitch black hut and outside into the night. He was attacked by the forceful wind and was almost knocked over. Slowly, Bib made his way to the fire and sat on a log, the wind at his back. Bib recognized the chief’s quiet but deep voice conversing with another man.
Bib sometimes felt that he was invisible. He would be with his tribe and no one would talk to him but Bib would stand around silently listening. In this way he found out useful information.
So there he was warming himself up, unintentionally eavesdropping on the chief and a man that Bib deducted to be the head hunter, Meham.
“The animals have been disturbed by the Otahaff’s seasonal hunting trip that has just finished. So the surviving animals have migrated up towards the mountain.”
“So you are suggesting a hunting trip?”
“Yes I am, I hear from Gofeni that this winter will be long and harsh. So before the animals go into hibernation, we should stock up on meat.”
“I agree. I will gather the best hunters of the tribe and prepare them for a hunting trip.”
This hunting trip was just another reminder to Bib about how he was a failure. The hunters were admired and praised for providing food. Bib knew he would never be a hunter for he could not see. He felt left out and disconnected from the rest of the tribe. He wasn’t allowed to do anything on his own.
On the day before the trip, the hunters prepared their bow and arrows and packed for a week in the wild. Bib sat near the hunters and helped out with random preparations. He was once asked to sharpen an arrow. Bib took the arrow in his hands and felt it. He imagined the feeling of this bow piercing his heart. He heard the cheers of the hunters and the moaning of the animals. Bib felt angry. He hated the idea of hunting it made him jealous and weak at the same time.
The next morning, Bib followed the hunters into the woods. He wasn’t sure what the reason was for this but it made him feel good listening to the hunters whispering and be able to feel the excitement. Bib followed a good amount behind the hunters but he could easily hear where they were going. The paths seem to be well traveled and all Bib had to do was be quiet. Bib planned on following the hunters the whole time he would sleep near them and at night take some left over food.
The first night he fell asleep about 20 yards away from the campsite of the hunters. He thought he would wake up and hear the hunters. Bib woke up and stretched out he felt good after a long sleep. He felt the midday sun warming but he was still cold. When he realized where he was he was nervous. Where were the hunters? Had they left already? Bib was filled with dread. He slowly crept towards where he thought the campsite was but he didn’t hear anything. When Bib felt around all he felt was the dusty ground and some hot ashes from the fire. Bib felt insecure all alone in the wild.
Bib was calmed by the thought of the surrounding animals that seemed so innocent. He felt like an animal that had been betrayed by his species and left all alone. Bib got up and started pacing wondering how he would get back. All of a sudden Bib heard a whining. He spinned around and reached forward. He let his hands guide him to a heap of messy fur. Bib pet it like a cat. Then he heard something disturbing the woods around him. He heard heavy breathing and felt the ground thump. All of a sudden he felt a claw on his back ripping through his skinned. Bib whimpered and tried to scoot away from the attacker presumably the mother bear. Bib should have known the bear would defend her young. Bib was curled up on the dirt his head tucked in between his knees. Then the most unusual thing happened. The bear was licking him. Licking the wounds. Which bear it was, he had no idea. But he felt loved and cared for. The bears felt sorry for them. Bib was actually sad when the licking stopped and the bears thumped away.
But later that day, Bib heard the thumping again and hoped it was the bears. He followed the thumping across the campsite and down near a river. At the bank of the river Bib lay down on the moss and curled up. He was getting cold and he could tell the night was approaching. He heard the bears walk around near him for a while before e fell asleep. When Bib woke up the next morning he reached out his arms and felt the same messy fur he had felt the day before. And for once Bib felt relieved and loved.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
King of The Island- Final Draft
It was just another hot summer in Georgia. Bobby, a ten-year-old boy spent every day of that summer at Lily Lake. There was one thing Bobby really wanted to do: swim to the island in the middle of the lake. The island seemed miles away from a scrawny kid. Still, he was determined to reach the island.
His intense inspiration and motivation to accomplish his goal originated from when his class went on a school trip to Lily Lake. His friend had bet him that he couldn’t swim to the island located in the middle of the lake. Bobby, not ever one to refuse a challenge, immediately splashed through the shallow waters and plunged into the coldness when the lake was too deep to continue walking.
Bobby began to swim; he swung his arms violently and came up for deep refreshing breaths. With each breath he was determined by the picturesque island and his friend’s dare to make it to the island. The island wasn’t getting closer just more distant. The lack of oxygen in the little boy’s body made his head spin and lungs ache. He turned around and looked back at his friend joined by several spectators eager to watch Bobby accomplish the amazing feat.
“No, I can’t give up” Bobby thought, “That would be too embarrassing.” So he turned back around and started swimming again. The water was getting colder and he was getting worried. “What if I can’t even make it back?” Bobby turned to look at the beach again, at his classmates who had noticed his ambiguity and started to look bored and doubtful. Already sensing defeat he decided to swim back to the beach, back to the warm waters, to the shallow waters where he was able to slowly and shamefully walk back up to the beach to face his friends.
“Well, what happened Bobby?” His friend inquired.
Bobby, hating to admit defeat shrugged it off and said “Nothing, I’ll do it another time.” He collapsed on his towel laid out on the hot sand. The deep breaths of warm air cleared his vision and relaxed his body. But the feeling of failure still resided in him.
He was positive he wasn’t going to give up on the challenge so he practiced all summer and perfected his swimming techniques and stamina. He was preparing for the back to school lakeside barbeque where all his classmates would be there and he would be ready to impress.
On the day before 6th grade started, in the afternoon was the barbeque and Bobby was nervous, he wasn’t sure about being able to reach the island. When his mother called him to go to the lake, his heart pounded and he swallowed hard. Driving to Lily Lake, he was absolutely silent. “Something wrong, honey” Bobby’s mother sweetly asked, expecting her chipper son to be excited to see his friends after the long summer. “No mom” he replied coldly.
When they arrived at the lake, Bobby looked out and saw all of his friends and was really excited to join in the game of water volleyball. He ran out of the car and rushed to say “hi” to his friends. After about half an hour of handstand contests, building sandcastles and playing tag, Bobby was in the best of moods and was ready for a big burger.
“Hey Bobby, remember when you couldn’t make it to the island?” His friend asked.
Bobby’s smile disappeared and he began to think. He was ready for the long swim, he was confident and sick of his friend’s superior attitude. “Yes I do” He replied. “I can make it to the island now, I just wasn’t feeling well that day.”
“Okay, go” The boy said disbelieving Bobby’s excuse.
“Okay” Bobby agreed no longer worried but excited to prove to his friends. He looked at the group of classmates gathering round to watch his second attempt. He was ready and he smiled.
He turned on his toes, and walked towards the water with confidence rather than a wish to complete a crazy dare. Once again he walked through the shallow and dove in when the water reached his waist. With stronger arms he smoothly executed his swimming strokes and glided through the water. Bobby, completely ecstatic with his perfect swimming techniques, swam even faster; there was no doubt in his mind now. With each look up he was getting closer and closer to the island, to reaching his destination and to proving himself to his friends. The water was shallowing out gain and he walked through the water feeling strong and superior. He stood up straight, lungs drawing in deep breaths and he turned around and looked at his friends across the water. He heard them cheering and saw them jumping for him. After about 20 seconds of celebration, rest and feeling proud, he splashed back through the water, adrenaline speeding up his stroke and pushing him to his homeland as if to announce that he had claimed the island.
Back at the island Bobby lay down on the sand and this time felt relieved and happy. His friends came over to congratulate him; he even received a few “Wow”s and “Good job”s from the parents and older siblings. Bobby felt exhilarated; he was the king of the island.
His intense inspiration and motivation to accomplish his goal originated from when his class went on a school trip to Lily Lake. His friend had bet him that he couldn’t swim to the island located in the middle of the lake. Bobby, not ever one to refuse a challenge, immediately splashed through the shallow waters and plunged into the coldness when the lake was too deep to continue walking.
Bobby began to swim; he swung his arms violently and came up for deep refreshing breaths. With each breath he was determined by the picturesque island and his friend’s dare to make it to the island. The island wasn’t getting closer just more distant. The lack of oxygen in the little boy’s body made his head spin and lungs ache. He turned around and looked back at his friend joined by several spectators eager to watch Bobby accomplish the amazing feat.
“No, I can’t give up” Bobby thought, “That would be too embarrassing.” So he turned back around and started swimming again. The water was getting colder and he was getting worried. “What if I can’t even make it back?” Bobby turned to look at the beach again, at his classmates who had noticed his ambiguity and started to look bored and doubtful. Already sensing defeat he decided to swim back to the beach, back to the warm waters, to the shallow waters where he was able to slowly and shamefully walk back up to the beach to face his friends.
“Well, what happened Bobby?” His friend inquired.
Bobby, hating to admit defeat shrugged it off and said “Nothing, I’ll do it another time.” He collapsed on his towel laid out on the hot sand. The deep breaths of warm air cleared his vision and relaxed his body. But the feeling of failure still resided in him.
He was positive he wasn’t going to give up on the challenge so he practiced all summer and perfected his swimming techniques and stamina. He was preparing for the back to school lakeside barbeque where all his classmates would be there and he would be ready to impress.
On the day before 6th grade started, in the afternoon was the barbeque and Bobby was nervous, he wasn’t sure about being able to reach the island. When his mother called him to go to the lake, his heart pounded and he swallowed hard. Driving to Lily Lake, he was absolutely silent. “Something wrong, honey” Bobby’s mother sweetly asked, expecting her chipper son to be excited to see his friends after the long summer. “No mom” he replied coldly.
When they arrived at the lake, Bobby looked out and saw all of his friends and was really excited to join in the game of water volleyball. He ran out of the car and rushed to say “hi” to his friends. After about half an hour of handstand contests, building sandcastles and playing tag, Bobby was in the best of moods and was ready for a big burger.
“Hey Bobby, remember when you couldn’t make it to the island?” His friend asked.
Bobby’s smile disappeared and he began to think. He was ready for the long swim, he was confident and sick of his friend’s superior attitude. “Yes I do” He replied. “I can make it to the island now, I just wasn’t feeling well that day.”
“Okay, go” The boy said disbelieving Bobby’s excuse.
“Okay” Bobby agreed no longer worried but excited to prove to his friends. He looked at the group of classmates gathering round to watch his second attempt. He was ready and he smiled.
He turned on his toes, and walked towards the water with confidence rather than a wish to complete a crazy dare. Once again he walked through the shallow and dove in when the water reached his waist. With stronger arms he smoothly executed his swimming strokes and glided through the water. Bobby, completely ecstatic with his perfect swimming techniques, swam even faster; there was no doubt in his mind now. With each look up he was getting closer and closer to the island, to reaching his destination and to proving himself to his friends. The water was shallowing out gain and he walked through the water feeling strong and superior. He stood up straight, lungs drawing in deep breaths and he turned around and looked at his friends across the water. He heard them cheering and saw them jumping for him. After about 20 seconds of celebration, rest and feeling proud, he splashed back through the water, adrenaline speeding up his stroke and pushing him to his homeland as if to announce that he had claimed the island.
Back at the island Bobby lay down on the sand and this time felt relieved and happy. His friends came over to congratulate him; he even received a few “Wow”s and “Good job”s from the parents and older siblings. Bobby felt exhilarated; he was the king of the island.
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