I am the hunter today. I am alone only because of my skill. The elders trust me – and expect me – to complete this task with ease, even though on average it takes about ten villagers. But today, there is only me. And I am confident.
I have my bow and arrows. Crafted by the oldest of the elders. I have about one hundred arrows. This will be child’s play. I should be finished by noon.
It takes me about an hour, give or take, to take down about eighty of them. But then something catches my eye. One of them differs from the rest. The way it’s red eyes gleam. The way it runs – faster and sleeker from the rest of them. This creature is about double the size of the rest. And it’s demeanour nearly frightens me. It looks like it was just given a lovely surprise. I fire one arrow at it. Not only does the arrow not stop the beast, but it does not even slow it down. So I fire another. It has the same effect on the creature. It barely notices the arrow lodged in it’s arm.
The sweat forms on my forehead. I have few options. It’s stamina is unstoppable, it seems. So I decide to go with the only option I really have – fire the rest of my arrows.
I pull back the sling, and release the arrow. It pierces the eye of the beast, but it doesn’t even care. Seeing it tower over the rest of them, and be about ten times as fast makes me breathe hard.
I fire the rest of my arrows. It still doesn’t even slow down. I look at how many arrows I have left. None. I gasp.
It nearly reaches the village. I wonder what will happen. I watch as it speeds up, and leaps over the barrier. A tear forms in my eye. The creature has reached the village, unscathed. It is ten times as powerful as any other beast. It will rip, tear, and consume hundreds of the villagers. And that’s not even the worst thing.
It’s all. My. Fault.
I am the hunter today. I am alone only because of my skill. The elders trust me – and expect me – to complete this task with ease, even though on average it takes about ten villagers. But today, there is only me. And I am confident.
I have my bow and arrows. Crafted by the oldest of the elders. I have about one hundred arrows. This will be child’s play. I should be finished by noon.
It takes me about an hour, give or take, to take down about eighty of them. But then something catches my eye. One of them differs from the rest. The way it’s red eyes gleam. The way it runs – faster and sleeker from the rest of them. This creature is about double the size of the rest. And it’s demeanour nearly frightens me. It looks like it was just given a lovely surprise. I fire one arrow at it. Not only does the arrow not stop the beast, but it does not even slow it down. So I fire another. It has the same effect on the creature. It barely notices the arrow lodged in it’s arm.
The sweat forms on my forehead. I have few options. It’s stamina is unstoppable, it seems. So I decide to go with the only option I really have – fire the rest of my arrows.
I pull back the sling, and release the arrow. It pierces the eye of the beast, but it doesn’t even care. Seeing it tower over the rest of them, and be about ten times as fast makes me breathe hard.
I fire the rest of my arrows. It still doesn’t even slow down. I look at how many arrows I have left. None. I gasp.
It nearly reaches the village. I wonder what will happen. I watch as it speeds up, and leaps over the barrier. A tear forms in my eye. The creature has reached the village, unscathed. It is ten times as powerful as any other beast. It will rip, tear, and consume hundreds of the villagers. And that’s not even the worst thing.
This is Carter. My newest edition to my animal family. Now I have 4 cats; Baby, Fabian, Gracie, and Carter. Fabian and Gracie arrived in my house in August, and Carter on January 22nd.
Carter is snow white, except for his ears and partially his tail and feet. He is 10 months old, and terribly cute. He loves to play, and the other cats don’t. Most of the time his play victims are Baby and Fabian. It also took him a long time to use the litter box, unfortunately, but that’s another story you probably don’t want to hear about.
Carter is most compatible with Gracie, and least compatible with Baby, I think. Him and Gracie like to lick faces and smell each other, but him and Baby like to keep their distance. When he walks into Baby’s personal space, usually an attack happens, and Baby is usually the victor.
On to the other cats, Fabian and Carter are male, and Baby and Gracie are female. Fabian and Gracie are brother and sister, and are seal point Siamese. They are striped black and grey, with intense blue eyes. Baby is jet black with lovely green eyes, and Carter (like I just said) is snow white with ice blue eyes. Their birthdays are; Carter on March 22, Fabian and Gracie on July 27, and Baby on August 24. Baby is the oldest being five, Fabian and Gracie are the second-oldest because they’re two, and Carter is the youngest being not even a year old yet.
The two cats that are friendliest with each other are Fabian and Gracie. They’re always together, almost never apart. The least compatible pair is Gracie and Baby. They’re always fighting, so we keep a spray bottle near. All three cats hate Carter. He’s just trying to fit in, poor thing. Then again, not really anyone likes Baby, either, but she’s more accepted than Carter.
When a human kills a wild animal it’s no big deal. But when a human kills a human, it’s big. It’s huge. But why are animals considered less than humans? Is it because of our intelligence? That’s ridiculous! If something is more intelligent than something else, they should have more of a right of survival than the other? It’s unfair, and unjust. I mean, if you think about it, humans should be less than animals, not more or equal to. We pollute, destroy, kill, pollute, destroy, kill, pollute, destroy, KILL! A human should not be allowed to kill an animal no matter what circumstance is what I think. Humans don’t even need meat; it’s only a luxury. Humans treat animals like objects, and it’s so sad to pause and think of how many species we have wiped out in the blink in the eye because of one reason; greed.
Here is a few pages from The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
pg. 232 – pg. 236
I grin and move in the direction of the bird. Another just a short distance ahead, picks up on the handful of notes. Rue has been singing to them, and recently. Otherwise thy’d have taken up some other song. My eyes lift up into the trees, searching for a sign of her. I swallow and sing softly back, hoping she’ll know it’s safe to join me. And that’s when I hear the scream.
It’s a girl’s scream, a young girl’s scream, there’s no one in the arena capable of making that sound except for Rue. And now I’m running, knowing this may be a trap, knowing the three Careers may be poised to attack me, but I can’t help myself. There’s another high-pitched cry, this time my name.
“Katniss! Katniss!”
“Rue!” I shout back, so she knows I’m near. So they know I’m near, and hopefully the girl who has attacked them with tracker jackers and gotten an eleven they still can’t explain will be enough to pull their attention away from her.
When I pull into the clearing, she’s on the ground, hopelessly entangled in a net. She just has time to reach her hand through the mesh and say my name before the spear enters her body
The boy from District 1 dies before he can pull out his spear. My arrow drives deeply into the center of his neck. He falls to his knees and halves the brief remaining time of his life by yanking out the arrow and drowning in his own blood. I’m reloaded, shifting my aim from side to side, while I shout at Rue, “Are there more? Are there more?”
She has to say no several times before I hear it.
Rue has rolled to her side, her body curved in and around the spear. I shove the boy away from her and pull out my knife, freeing her from the net. One look at the wound I know it’s far beyond my capacity to heal. Beyond anyone’s probably. The spearhead is buried up to the shaft in her stomach. I crouch before her, staring helplessly at the embedded weapon. There’s no point in comforting words, in telling her she’ll be alright. She’s no fool. Her hand reaches out and I clutch it like a lifeline. As if it’s me who’s dying instead of Rue.
“You blew up the food?” she whispers.
“Every last bit,” I say.
“You have to win,” she says.
“I’m going to. Going to win for both of us now,” I promise. I hear a cannon and look up. It must be for the boy from District 1.
“Don’t go.” Rue tightens her grip on my hand.
“Course not. Staying right here,” I say. I move in closer to her, pulling her head onto my lap. I gently brush the dark, thick hair back behind her ear.
“Sing,” she says, but I barely catch the word. Sing? I think. Sing what? I do know a few songs. Believe it or not, there was once music in my house, too. Music I helped make. My father pulled me in with that remarkable voice —- but I haven’t sung much since he died. Except when Prim is very sick. Then I sing her the same songs she liked as a baby.
Sing. My throat is tight with tears, hoarse from the smoke and fatigue. But if this is Prim’s, I mean, Rue’s last request, I have to at least try. The song that comes to me is a simple lullaby, one we sing fretful, hungry babies to sleep with. It’s old, very old I think. Made up long ago in our hills. What my music teacher calls a mountain air. But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece of time we call today.
I give a small cough, swallow hard, and begin:
Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise
Here it’s safe, here it’s warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings
them true
Here is the place where I love you.
Rue’s eyes have fluttered shut. Her chest moves but only slightly. My throat releases the tears and they slide down my cheeks. But I have to finish the song for her.
Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it’s morning, they’ll wash away.
Here it’s safe, here it’s warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings
them true
Here is the place where I love you.
Everything’s still and quiet. Then, almost eerily, the mockingjays take up my song.
For a moment, I sit there, watching my tears drip down on her face. Rue’s cannon fires. I lean forward and press my lips against her temple. Slowly, as if not to wake her, I lay her head back on the ground and release her hand.
They’ll want me to clear out now. So they can collect the bodies. And there’s nothing to stay for.
Hello readers! I’m going back to school on September 7 and I’m starting Grade 7. This year I have Ms. DeLuca as a teacher. I’m looking forward to this year!
Lisa Scinta is a Youtube celebrity. She is a cover artist for various popular music artists such as Ke$ha, Jason DeRulo, Beyoncé, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, and B.o.B ft. Bruno Mars. She, in my opinion, has a beautiful voice and sometimes has a better voice than the artist themselves. She is an amazing singer and I know you, reader, would love her music.
My favourite cover so far by her is her Katy Perry – Thinking of You cover. I would absolutely love it if you would visit her channel using the links above, perhaps leave her a comment but most importantly see the masterpieces she has painted with her music. Here is her Katy Perry – Thinking of You cover.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present this song & unofficial video performed by Lady Gaga!
Lyrics below the video.
Silicon, saline, poison inject me
Baby, I’m a free bit
I’m a free bit
Some girls won’t dance to the beat of the track
She won’t walk away
But she won’t look back
She looks good
But her boyfriend says she’s a mess
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
Now the girl is stressed
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
She’s a mess
Baby loves to dance in the dark
‘Cuz when he’s lookin’
She falls apart
Baby loves to dance in the dark
Run run
Her kiss is a vampire grin
The moon lights her way while she’s howlin’ at him
She looks good
But her boyfriend says she’s a tramp
She’s a tramp
She’s a vamp
But she still does her dance
She’s a tramp
She’s a vamp
But she still kills the dance
Baby loves to dance in the dark
‘Cuz when he’s lookin’
She falls apart
Baby loves to dance in the dark
In the dark
She loves to dance in the dark
In the dark
She loves, she loves to dance in the dark
Marilyn
Judy
Sylvia
Tellem’ how you feel girls!
Work your blonde (Jean) Benet Ramsey
We’ll haunt like liberace
Find your freedom in the music
Find your jesus
Find your kubrick
You will never fall apart
[Princess] Diana, you’re still in our hearts
Never let you fall apart
Together we’ll dance in the dark
Baby loves to dance in the dark
‘Cuz when he’s lookin’
She falls apart
Baby loves to dance in the dark
Hi my name is Eric and this is my blog! It had the name "Eric's Blog" and then I changed it to "The Book Reviewer", and then I finally settled on "The Writer's Journal". I hope you enjoy my poetry, essays, journal entries, and book reviews.
