"How to Bake French Macarons" by Kayla G.

Likely, people do not know what French macarons are. Many identify them as the “pretty patty” desserts. Well, I would like to clear up all of the confusion. Macarons are French cookies made out of almonds and meringue. They are not called “macaroons”. Macaroons are coconut cookies. French macarons are simply made out of egg whites, sugar, powdered sugar, and almonds.

            For many people, macarons are difficult to bake (ex. Kristine Estrada). They take a lot of patience and effort to make. To be honest, the first time baking macarons will result in a flaw in some way. Macaron recipes online and in baking books are helpful, but most of the time, they do not address common mistakes with baking macarons. With my guidance, hopefully you will be able to bake them without a problem on your first time. (:

If you are actually considering using this guide for baking macarons, then please watch this video. You will find it beneficial because it gives you a visual on how to perform some of the needed tasks.      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2L1zbAOQ3EI

Things You’ll Need:

Electric Mixer (hand mixers are fine as well)

2 large bowls (either metal, glass, or pyrex)

Food Processor or blender

Fine Sieve

Parchment Paper

Cookie sheets or any flat baking pan

Piping bag (Disposable or reusable) (No Ziplocs)

Ingredients:

Please be precise with your measurements. Every detail in the recipe is crucial! I had to learn the hard way.

2/3 cups almond meal or fine almond flour (Have no worries. I will teach you how to prepare them)

1 ½ cups powdered sugar

3 large egg whites

5 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Food coloring or Gel food coloring

-Gel food coloring can be found at Michael’s or Walmart at the cake section where Wilton products are found

Total Time Duration: Approximately 2 hours (for first timers, likely 3)

Directions:

For dry ingredients:

1. Sift 2/3 cups of almonds. To sift almonds, it would be easiest to use a food processor or blender to break down the almonds. If you want to avoid the brown outer shell of them, then you may use almond slivers, but it doesn’t make a difference in the recipe. Pour the grinded almonds into a fine sieve, and use and spoon to separate the almond flour from the almond chunks into the large bowl that is going to be used only for dry ingredients. When you’re done sifting, pour the fine almonds into a large bowl.
2. Sift 1 ½ cups of powdered sugar into the same bowl that the fine almonds are in. To sift powdered sugar, put the sugar into the cleaned out fine sieve, and let the sugar sprinkle its way into the bowl.
3. Gently mix the two ingredients. Do not press onto them, and do not mix quickly.

Beating the Egg Whites: Here, you will learn how to beat your egg whites until stiff with a mixer. Stiff egg whites are egg whites that look shiny and fluffy. They become larger in size when beaten because the mixer creates air in the egg whites.

1. In another large bowl, separate your egg whites from the yolk, and only leave the egg whites in the bowl. It is imperative that your egg whites do not have any bits of egg yolk or eggshells. If there are any bits, then start over and separate more eggs into another large bowl. The bowl has to be either glass, pyrex, or metal because any other type of bowl will not allow your egg whites to become stiff for the next step. If you use plastic or any other type of bowl, you are risking the chance of failed stiffened egg whites. Plastic bowls are known to attract grease and fats. Grease and fats prevent egg whites to become stiff.
2. With only 3 egg whites in the bowl, beat them with a mixer. As you are mixing the egg whites, you will notice them becoming foamy. At this point, gradually add the 5 tablespoons of granulated sugar as you are mixing the egg whites. Soon, you will notice your egg whites growing in size and creating peaks. They are meant to look fluffy and bigger than before. Stop mixing when the egg whites are stiff. To tell if they are stiff, do the bowl test. Flip your bowl upside down, and check if nothing moves at all. If nothing moves at all, then they are considered “stiff”. If they are still moving, then continue mixing and do the bowl test again. This is my favorite part of baking macarons! (:
3. Next, you can color your egg whites. If you are using food coloring, then only use a maximum of 3 drops.
   Warning: Food coloring does not provide the best color for macarons. It is better to use food gel.
   If you are using food gel, then only put a drop or two of it. Too many drops of food coloring or gel will ruin your macarons. This is because coloring is not part of the original recipe of French macarons. Typically, macarons get their colors from the ingredients used, such as the color green for green tea macarons. Do not worry about putting too little of coloring for the macarons because a little comes a long way!

Mixing the ingredients:

1. Now that you have two separate bowls of dry ingredients and wet ingredients, it is time to combine that two. Pour about 1/3 of the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients bowl. Use the folding technique to mix the ingredients. Always be gentle with the ingredients. For help on the folding technique, go straight to 2:37 on the YouTube video link shown at the top of the guide.
2. When done mixing 1/3 of the dry ingredients with the wet ingredients, repeat the process by first pouring another 1/3 of the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients.
3. Repeat the process with the remaining dry ingredients.

Baking the Macarons:

1. Align parchment paper on your cookie sheet or baking pan. Sadly, wax paper cannot do the job. I have learned from experience. You need parchment paper. If you have multiple cookie sheets or baking pans, then use them! Baking macarons take a while, so it would be best to fit as many sheets as possible in the oven to save your self some time. Do not forget to align all of the sheets or pans with parchment paper.
2. In a piping bag (a.k.a. pastry bag), disposable or reusable, twist the tip and place the bag into a cup that can stand strong. Using this method will help you at pouring your macaron batter into the piping bag. Do not use Ziploc bags because they for me are hard to work with. Using gallons bags are acceptable, but their shapes are not like real piping bags. It becomes messy and difficult to work with them.

   

   
   

   Macaron Batter

   WAIT for 30 minutes!

3. Pour the macaron batter into your bag.
4. Twist the open end of the bag, and untwist the tip. Make sure the bag has approximately a .4-inch tip.
5. Pipe out 1in. diameter sized macarons onto the parchment paper. It will take some practice getting used to piping out the batter. Make sure no cookies touch! If they do, then with your best ability remove them from the sheet.
6. After piping out the batter, grab the sheet or pan, and carefully bang it against the kitchen counter. Hitting the sheet on the counter will get the air bubbles out of the cookies.
7. To get rid of the peaks on the cookies, you can dip your finger in water, and gently tap the tips down. Do not put a lot of water on your finger. The water can ruin the macarons.
8. Leave the macarons out untouched for 30 minutes.
9. Preheat the oven to 280°F.
10. After 30 minutes, place the sheets into the oven. The macarons will remain in the oven for 15-18 minutes.
11. After the first three minutes on being in the oven, open the oven slightly for a few seconds to let the air out. This will allow excess humidity to exit the oven. Make sure you have a timer to keep track of time.
12. After 15 minutes of being in the oven, take the macarons out. Give them time to cool down.
13. Once they’re cool, gently remove the cookies from the parchment paper. They should not be difficult to remove. If they are still sticking to the sheet, then place them back in the oven for another 3-5 minutes.
14. When they’re removed from the paper, pair the cookies with those that fit well with each other in size.
15. For the filling, I find it easiest to use Nutella. It’s tasty, easy to use, and I am always too tired at this point of baking macarons to make my own filling. You can use any filling that you wish! There are many websites that show you how to make your own flavored fillings for macarons; however, that cannot be found here.

Thank you for reading this very long and descriptive guide on how to bake French macarons. I hope that this was very helpful, informative, and not boring for your interests!(:

Do not let this picture fool you! The colors are pretty, but only because they are filtered! Credit: @kisforkani This is what failure looks like! I put too much food coloring in this batch  These were supposed to be orange, but food coloring is not very strong. Instead, these ended up light brown. I decided to change it up, and I used blue butter cream frosting as the filling. You can fill your macarons with anything you like!(:

"A Story About Nothing" by Kyra Y.

The ghoulish vibe of that Halloween night filled the crisp autumn wind. She banded with her associates to do mischievous activities, all while gathering gobs of sweets. None of them fully knew what the night would entail, but they ventured into the darkness either way.

Midway through that fateful night, her group had doubled in numbers. Creatures in masks became people with demented souls all grasping candy. She befriended one person in particular who decided to tag along for the mission. He didn’t dress up and when she asked for his name he claimed it was “Nothing”. Nothing had a polite demeanor and to her, Nothing’s features were in flawless alignment as if he was too complete, too symmetrical, too perfect to be out on this night with her. However, She enjoyed getting to know Nothing but as the night continued, She felt a nagging sense of foreboding grabbing at her ankles. She couldn’t shake it but, Nothing made her feel better.

Nothing liked her almost instantly and didn’t want anything else to bother her so he made sure she had a safe and lovely night. Nothing held her hand through the mazes; Nothing clung by her side all night and Nothing offered to walk her home. As the cold fall fog set in, Nothing walked her to the top of her block. The dim yellow street lamps solely accompanied the pair. She didn’t want to leave, and Nothing had her in a trance. Nothing leaned in for a hug and pulled her in close to himself. She gazed up and Nothing kissed her.  She gasped and fell to the ground as blood oozed out her back. Nothing looked at his blood stained hand and then looked at his last casualty, right before vanishing from this world.

As word got out, people couldn’t identify her body. The people who were with her that night saw the story and thought “How sad”, but no one remembered her. It was as if She was Nothing too, as if they both didn’t exist, as if both their souls had been carried away, erased and forgotten. Almost like they were dead before that crisp autumn night even began.

"C.Y.O.P.-Carve Your Own Pumpkin" by Melissa N.

It began as a parody to an otherwise well known B.Y.O. (Bring Your Own). But rather than Bring Your Own Bananas, I and a couple of my friends decided to be festive for the month of October, B.Y.O.P- Bring Your Own Pumpkin! Now none of us have ever carved a pumpkin before, but I will now proceed to share with you what I believe the steps are to carve your own pumpkin.
Step One: The Chosen One
Variety is both the ally and the enemy, the "frenemy." Now, if you're a lot like me, choices are not your best friend. When it comes to choosing your pumpkin, well I hate to break it to you, but you don't. It chooses you. You can go about rubbing and tapping and loving many different pumpkins, however you might just be wasting your time. The chosen one will reveal himself when almost all hope is lost. When you spot him, you just know that's the pumpkin, it was meant to be.
Step Two: Purchase It
That's a given; nothing is free now, c'mon!
Step Three: Family Photoshoot (optional)
This pumpkin is now officially yours. You even have documentation of ownership also known as your receipt! So why not show it off to the world?! Take outrageous photos with it to show that you love it enough to be seen with it. Have someone who has actually taken family photos before position you in a family pose so you can avoid those awkward “selfies.”

Consider poses such as: 

Avoid:

         
Step Four: Tracing
If you're more advanced than most people, you can skip this step. However, if you're as new to this as I am, you might want to consider this step. By now I assume you know what sort of image you want to create on the pumpkin. If not I'll give you this time to think. I'll wait.

Alright so now that you have this mental image of what you want to make, I want you to scrap it. Scrap that perfect image you have of your pumpkin completely out of your mind! Your pumpkin is not going to look like what you want it to be, trust me. You may think you want to create this intricate and detailed skull in honor of Dia de Los Muertos, but I'm telling you now, it's not going to look anything like that, especially in daylight. So consider starting small! The Mona Lisa is a good place to start!

Step Five: Gut It!
You may need parental supervision for this step. I'm no knife connoisseur, but I recommend not using a meat cleaver or a butter knife to get to the inside of the pumpkin. Try a medium sized knife. Cut a circle around the stem that is large enough for your hand to fit inside and yank the stem off. Next, grab a metal serving spoon and scrape off the flesh and seeds inside of the pumpkin. You may save the seeds as you please.
Step Six: Becoming Butcher Bob
With a smaller knife, preferably a paring knife, begin cutting it up! You are the creator, go nuts! Just be careful, you do have a knife in hand!
Step Seven: Admiration
Congratulations! You did it! Drop that knife and pat yourself on the back!
Step Eight: Light ‘em Up Up Up, Light ‘em Up Up Up!
Grab a tea candle of some sort, and stick it inside! Replace the cut off stem and you're good to place this outside your front door!

          

One should plan accordingly when it comes to carving the pumpkin. People tend to forget that the pumpkin is not a preservative, it will rot in time. Therefore, do not carve it too early! One should aim for about a week before Halloween. Also, beware those pesky teenagers! They may be inclined to destroy it! Other than that, have fun and get creative!

     

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"I Wish I Were Dead" by Yamen M.

Ever since that day, my life has been great! No tears, no goodbyes, but many "hellos were the norm for the past 30 years. As a kid, my microbiological engineer mother kept on telling me how advanced we had gotten with technology and how, as a result, we no longer need to fear death. I never really understood that but I just went with it. I ended up working for the CIA, despite the risks. I made many friends and enemies but lost countless of both. When I retired at the age of 50, I thought that the past would stay in the past. It did not…

"Johnny, I'm home!" No reply.

"Johnny?!" I yelled, but from the numerous horror movies I've watched, it was a given. the sound of glass breaking echoed through the house and, of course, my five year old son’s shriek followed. Knowing how it usually played out in the movies, I ran for the shotgun for protection only to find it
in the hands of a former enemy spy.

"This was never between us. This was always between our governments and a little child has nothing to do with it. Now please, let him go. I never held anyth..." he fired the weapon leaving my five year old with an empty hole in the center of his body and a smell of burnt flesh and blood in the atmosphere. The shock crashed into me like a ghost crying out for help with a horrendous screech. Knowing that I was next, I took no time thinking and dashed at him. Within seconds, he had no more control over any part of his body.

            I had done it. I have avenged my son’s murder. All I wanted to do was rest and pretend none of this happened. As I heard the police sirens, I eased into a very long nap.

            As I opened my eyes, I saw a glass of water on the table next to me. Johnny ran towards me to give me a hug. Was I just dreaming? Surely I am hallucinating. I saw him lying dead just a couple of feet away from me several days ago and now… now he is back? This did not make sense.

            “I love you daddy.” Upon hearing those words, nothing mattered anymore. I spent 30 years with nothing mattering. Johnny never grew older, and I did not age either; something did not add up…

            I spent several weeks looking at old newspapers and searching news online and there it was; the solution to my confusion, but also, the cause of my new misery. I finally understood what happened. My mother was working on a drug with the CIA that would manipulate the mind into stimulating a happy lifetime after death. With some tweaking, a person could use that drug to force another to live forever in their mind without a way out almost as a way of torture. I have been dead for the past 30 years…

"A Zombie Friday" by Laurin R.

My Friday was progressing strangely; my favorite math teacher was aloof, the normally friendly cafeteria ladies were expressionless, and I was last to get lunch, which happened to be leftover “mystery meat.”  As I walked toward my best friend, to eat lunch with, an eerie feeling crept up my spine.  I grimaced as a scent of death seeped into my nostrils. I looked around the school courtyard only to find everyone, including my best friend, gazing at me with crazed expressions.  My eyes grew large, and “AHHHH!”  I screamed as I threw my food in the air and ran. 

I dashed into the nearest classroom, barricaded the door, and hid under a desk.  I knew I needed a plan, and looked out the window to get the whereabouts on the Zombies.  As I peered out the window I saw my best friend, in human form, covered in my lunch and hiding in a trashcan.  I realized that my lunch, the “mystery meat”, was as an antidote for the Zombies. 

Now, I had a plan. I gathered a hose, a mannequin, a rope, a meter stick, and all the “mystery meat” I could find.  I lured most of the Zombies into the courtyard with the mannequin and any astray were met with my meter stick and rope.  Then the disgusting meat was hosed on every undead creature.  As my plot succeeded, I saw teachers and students rise from the heaps of meat.  I smirked in disbelief and made a mental note to stash some of the cafeteria “mystery meat” for any future Zombie infestations.

"Regarding Charlie" by Katherine C.

On June 1, 1944, a man in uniform read a note:

“You have been notified that Lieutenant Charles Redwood has been officially reported as missing since the 6th of March, 1944, and there appears to be conclusive proof that he is dead. For official purposes, he is presumed to have died on or since the above mentioned date...”

The woman screamed.

She fell on her knees.

Her only son-her only child was gone.

Charlie told her that he would finally come home this year before the holiday season. From a young age, he wanted to become a pilot; he was fascinated with the possibility of flight. So every Christmas, she bought him an airplane model kit and even as he grew older, she continued to do so for tradition’s sake. There were three kits covered in gift wrap.

She crawled inside her house and awaited her husband’s arrival from work . . .

Hours passed.

As she looked up from a crouched position on the floor, she saw a portrait of Charlie. The combination of freckles and a winning smile deemed him handsome, but a still frame could never exude his boisterous laugh, his noble integrity, or his sweet disposition.

Paralyzed with shock, she blankly stared ahead. She contemplated the fact that she could never see, hear, or hug him again.

Five days trudged along.

President Roosevelt asked the nation to join him in prayer prior to the D-Day operation.

She fervently prayed knowing many men would die: fathers, brothers, and sons alike. She had so eagerly waited for Charlie to come home, but now, she didn’t have to.

"My Hogwarts Acceptance Letter" by Alexandra A.

It was the night of July 25, 2007. I was eating dinner with my family when all of sudden there was a knock at the door. Thinking little of it, my parents didn’t answer and went back to enjoying our meal. About a minute had gone by when we heard another loud thump, so I got up to answer the door but no one was there. Just as I began to close the door, a small brown envelope on the ground caught my eye. Picking it up I noticed a waxy, dark red seal on the back and written in perfect cursive on the front was my name. I quickly tore open the mysterious letter. It read:

Dear Ms. Aguilar,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

            My heart pounded as I raced back in the house to show my parents this incredible piece of mail. “What is this?!” My mother exclaimed. “It’s my Hogwarts acceptance letter, I can’t believe it!” I cried. Suddenly, a great gust of wind blew open the front door and there stood Rubeus Hagrid himself! “Hello there Alexandra,” the giant man bellowed, “I’ve come to assist you on your trip to Hogwarts.” After saying goodbye to my family, Hagrid and I left and off I was to the school of my dreams.

            When we arrived at Hogwarts I was taken aback by the marvelous castle. Although school did not start for another week, a student orientation was being held throughout the day. All of the staff was there, teaching the first years the basics of using their magical abilities to prepare for school. Obviously there had been a mistake, for they did not realize that I was not born with such supernatural gifts. As the day progressed, the professors tried to teach me simple spells thinking I’d be able to do something with them like the other kids had. At first it was easy blending in, but soon most of the other students had shown some sign of their magical talents while I was still unable to perform any of these minor tasks. I willed myself to do something—anything—although in the back of my mind I knew I would never be able to. Struggling with a new spell, I decided to take a break and sit down. A few moments had passed when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. “It’s alright, don’t give up,” chimed a young boy. He was lean with shaggy dark hair, round glasses, and a peculiar scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. “My name is Harry Potter,” he said, “what’s yours?” “I’m Alexandra,” I replied. And just like that I made a new friend.

"The Things We Do" by Analinda O.

Ahhhhh. A sigh of content escaped my upturned lips. I was strolling down a beaten old path in my favorite park, the sun was shining, and my day couldn’t get any better. As I continued walking, my glance fell upon another person enjoying the park’s wonders. Our eyes met, and I smiled at the cute guy strumming his guitar under the shade of the oak tree. Seeing a smile in reply, I conjured up the courage to walk over to say hi. We talked, connected, and well, you can imagine what happened next. (This is a love story of sorts after all).

            Flash forward a few years. “Hey hun, need some help with those boxes?” Being a rather stubborn individual, I of course batted my fiancé away, saying “What am I, impaired? I got this!” Laughing, he ruffled my hair and headed outside to grab the next set of items to unpack. As I unwrapped photo frames and lovingly dusted them off, I thought back to the day we’d met. We’d hit it off so instantly, it still amazed me. What followed that destined meeting was what all girls dream of, and what all guys secretly long for. We went on dates, met the parents, celebrated anniversaries, and even adopted a “joint-custody” dog together. We were happy, and meant to be. Soon after our third anniversary, the inevitable happened: we got engaged and decided to officially move in together.  Today was our first day moving in, and we were so excited to finally have a place of our own. I smiled as I surveyed our small, but elegant apartment; it was perfect. My smile abruptly froze in place as I heard the most horrible screeching of brakes from outside.

Time seemed to slow down as I ran out through the front door, my heart convulsing with fear. My crazed eyes focused on the slumped, broken body of my love sprawled across the road in front of a badly dented car with the driver stumbling out of the door, and as I rushed over I knew without a doubt that he was gone. A sob erupted from me, and I crumbled to the ground next to the body. Staring at the body that was no longer the man I had fallen in love with through tear-filled eyes, one thought repeated over and over in my mind. I would give up ANYTHING to revive him, anything. I closed my eyes, and the thought seemed to get louder, bigger, filling my head until I felt like I was going to explode. There was a searing flash of pain, like something was being ripped away from me, followed by blissful silence.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

I opened my eyes, and shook off the strangest feeling of wistfulness, like I had forgotten something important. Shrugging it off, I continued walking, my glance falling upon another person enjoying the park’s wonders. Our eyes met. I smiled at the cute guy strumming his guitar under the shade of the oak tree, and kept walking.

"Comedy" by Alan M.

I recently went to an E.P.I.C. performance, it was called CLUB 799, the acting club played a series of improve games, played by two different teams. I sat through an hour and a half trying to keep my bladder form exploding. The performers repeatedly made joke after joke with such ease. I sat through the performance, thinking to myself: “If I was up there, would I have come up with something that funny?” My mind began to run, trying to beat the performers to the punch line. My punch lines did not seem to be funny in my head so I gave up. I then asked myself: “What makes people comedic?” I believe I found the answer. I compared the performers and myself, noticing a few differences between ourselves. The first difference I noticed was their energy that they projected. The performers walked out onto the stage and immediately caught everyone’s attention. It was nearly impossible to ignore them; they captured the audience and me simply with their presence. I reflected on my life, realizing that I did not have that stage presence.  The second difference that caught my attention is that the performers did not seem to care what others thought of them. Most people analyze what they are about to say, but not comedians. They flat out speak their mind, if it sounds ridiculous they continue on with their thought.  This difference was not the solution to the problem, but it was very significant in making funny people.  The spontaneity that came out of their mouths seemed to work most of the time. The third thing I notice was that the performers constantly smiled and laughed when they spoke. Like they say, “laughter is contagious” it spread throughout the audience.  Even though their comment did not amuse many at first, they began to smile and chuckle. The crowd then responded by imitating the laughter that the performers presented. Comedic people seemed to not care about other’s opinions, have an amazing stage performance, and obtain an ability to spread laughter. The aspect of comedy continues to baffle me, but I got some insight into how to be funny. I will put these abilities into my life to help and make my life more interesting. Another thing I noticed from the E.P.I.C. performers is that they appeared to be happy with their life because they could relieve their stresses by simply making a joke of whatever they pleased. Attempting to become funny or comedic will not be an easy task due to the fact that most of us are not and may never be comfortable stepping out of their comfort zone and embrace new ways of living. Those who can get up in front of an audience are very courageous and have my respect, since I am not one to be able to perform in front of people, especially comedy. The secret to becoming funny is unknown to me, but I am now a step closer to achieving a goal.

"Soldier" by Araybia B.

“Hi! Welcome to Jessie’s! My name is Lily and I’ll be your waitress for the night, can I start you off with something… uhhh hello?” Lily stopped mid-sentence because she noticed her customer wasn’t really paying too much attention to her.

As he snapped out of his daze, she was taken aback by the beauty of the man in front of her yet she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness when she looked into his hazel eyes and noticed the sadness that monopolized his expression. “Hey what’s wrong? You’re looking a little sad.” She inquired.

As he looked up, he too, admired the face of the girl who stared back at him with a care in her eyes that he hadn’t felt from anyone in a while, “Actually, I’m not feeling too great but I’ll be fine. Wouldn’t want to keep you from work anyway.”

“I’m off in 20 minutes. You wouldn’t be bothering me at all. That is if you want to though?” she offered again hesitantly.

“Ok,” he said as a hint of smile graced his face, “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

After her shift was over, Lily and the boy walked down to the light house and talked for hours. The boy’s name was Jake and he told Lily how he was shipping out to Afghanistan the next morning. Before the night was over, he asked if he could write her while he was on deployment because he had no one else to write to.

They wrote back and forth for a few months and they found themselves growing fairly fond of each other; he would tell her how hard things could get and then she would assure him that it would get better; she would tell him about her stresses and he would tell her how strong she was. They helped each other get through trying times. But after about 6 months, Jake stopped replying to Lily’s letters and although she stopped receiving them, Lily continued to send one letter every week.

August turned to September which turned to October and she still got no reply. One night at the local high school’s football game, Lily sat in the stands and listened to the announcer as the choir finished singing the National Anthem, “Would everyone please bow their heads in a moment of silence for a fallen soldier.” Everyone in the stands respectfully bowed their heads in silence yet nobody shed a tear but that didn’t really matter Lily alone cried enough for everyone.

"My Mom" by Eli C

 Well I am going to tell you about my mom. Me and my mom were really close .So what I am going to tell you was very hard on me. But first I am going to tell you a little bit about her first.

  First when me and my mom went to amusement parks like knotts and Disneyland . She would make me sit next to her on the rides mostly rollercoaster’s. I  never actually knew why but she always did. But I always did  I guess  she wanted me because like I said we were close and she was scared. I think she just liked me the best and don’t tell my brother I said that because he would get mad at me. She would always make me go on the rides I didn’t want to go on. All those rides she made me go on I think are fun and now I have to ride them when I go to the amusement park.
 
  Second my mom would always try to baby me. When we would go to school she would say bye be careful. She wouldn’t let us ride our bikes to school. Sometimes she wouldn’t let us go outside to play football or anything. She said it was to dangerous because we lived In a apartment and it was a bad neighborhood. So she wouldn’t  let us go anywhere without her. Our dad would say she is to protective of us.

  Then one day our mom got sick. She said she was getting dizzy. So she would lay down. She was sick for a while. Then on the other hand she was sad because our sister was in the air force. Then our sisters would get mad at each other and my mom hated it when they would fight. Also she was sad because she couldn’t see her for two years. She could barely talk to her because she was stationed in south Korea. That was when north Korea was fighting with south Korea so my mom was worried. So i think our mom was depressed about our sister. Then our other sister wouldn’t come over to see us very much. Then our dad would either go to work or go golfing. So he would come home late. Then our mom said she wasn’t feeling good so she layed down. Our dad said he was going to take her to the hospital but she didn’t want to go. Then one night we were watching a movie and we would check up on her. Then we checked on her and we thought she was sleeping so me and my dad tried to wake her up and my dad told me to check her pulse. I didn’t fell anything so my dad called 911 and they told him to do cpr. So me my dad and my brother took her of the bed and layed her on the floor. that’s when my dad started to do cpr. The ambulance got there and  they took her to the hospital. They said they were surprised she started breathing again because she wasn’t breathing for 20 minutes. They said she had a slim chance of making it. But if she did make it she would not remember us at all. They said because she didn’t have air to her brain for a long time. Then we were waiting for hours and they said we could see her one last time and they told us she wasn’t going to make it. So they pronounced her dead December 15 2013  at 1:35 in the morning. So I was very sad for a couple of weeks but I had to go to school even though I didn’t want to.

  So know from this experience we all became close. Now we see our dad mostly every day so we all miss her very much. But what came from a bad experience became a whole new one.

"Remote Control" by Sabriah J.

If I had the choice to choose between a rewind button or a pause button. I would choose the rewind button. Because when I was younger I did’nt get a chance to spend a lot of time with my grandfather. He was always bouncing between hospital to hospital. I was never able to have a relationship with him, or able to visit him. I was always to little. I got to visit him a few times,  not as much as I wish. I wish He was here now to see how much I’ve grown. He passed away when I was nine years old. I will never forget the day He passed. I just wish I could go back in time to see him again. If I could’ve just saw him one more time, I would be happier. I miss not having him around anymore.

R.I.P  Grandaddy  10/23/09.

"Plane Crash" by Josh B.

“All men dream. But not equally. Those who dream by night, in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes to make it possible. This I did.”                                                                                                           

                                                                                   -T.E. Lawrence

                                                                                   “Lawrence of Arabia”

            My name is Nathan Drake. Occupation: Treasure Hunter, I’ve been looking for the Atlantis of the Sands in the Rub’ Al Khali Desert. Along the way, my mentor, Victor Sullivan, has been kidnapped by an underground society trying to find the same land as me. Apparently, he had some falling out with them. I had to go after them. Luckily, I got on one of their cargo planes. Unfortunately, I got through from the landing gear. So I’m a little cramped.

            I got a little sleep and now I’m ready. I crawled through the ventilation system. I see the sun from the holes above me. All of the sudden, I felt someone grab me. A 7-foot giant got me and threw me up against the wall. He punched me really hard. I could barely see, but I saw him looking for something. He pulled a switch right next to me and the back of the plane opened. This scared me to death. I felt the hot, dry air of the desert trying to suck me out. The giant threw me out the back. I soared through the air but I barely grabbed the edge of the door.

            I climbed up and was welcomed to a barrage of punches. I pushed him off and kicked him. He was on his knees and I punched the guy as hard as I could. But that was not enough. He picked me up by my neck. I couldn’t breathe. My body was dangling. I was yelling and punching but he wouldn’t let go. I backhanded him and he let go. I was catching my breath. I kneed him in the torso area. He finally collapsed. But I knew he wouldn’t stay down. I headed back in the plane to see if I could find something to finish the giant off. He was starting to get up. I noticed that most of the cargo has parachutes. Just in case if the plane crashed. The giant got up and started walking towards me. I pulled the parachute handles as hard as I could. The parachute finally open and the boxes flew out. Knocking out the giant. “Thanks for flying with us.” I chuckled.

            I turned around and barely dodged a box that went passed my head. All the cargo came at me all at once. Trucks, weapons, and supplies in crates came at me. They all pushed me out. I was pushed out and soared. I grabbed one of the trucks that are connected to the back of the plane with a bungee rope. Just my luck, more guys came out with guns. I climbed up the truck while getting shot at. I got one of the guys and threw him off the plane. I grabbed his gun and started shooting at them. I downed a couple guys but more came out. I saw a couple propane tanks and shot at it. Wrong move. There was a giant explosion happened. A giant hole was in the side of the plane.

            All the cargo and men was sucked out. The hole was sucking up everything that I could see. One second I was trying to run away the hole, to flying out it. I was flying through the air. While the air, I saw the plane, covered in flames, crashing down towards the desert. I was shocked. Then I saw a crate with an unopened parachute. I adjusted my body so I could reach the box. I squeezed the box so I didn’t fall. Then I grabbed the handle and starting to pull it. After a few minutes, the parachute opened. I was safely glided to the ground. As I descended, I saw the plane hit the sand with a fiery explosion. Sand, plane parts, and debris went everywhere. “Whoa!” I said. I crashed on the floor. I got up and saw a pile of guns laying there, covered in broken wood. “Just what I need.” I said.

            I walked towards the wreckage to see if there were any supplies. Nothing at all. It was all burned up. Stupid me. I walked about 2 miles out. Sun blasting in my face, sand blown towards men, and my feet are burning. I got to a sand dune. I walked up and turned around. I saw a plane crash that I caused. “I did this.” I said. Then I turned around towards the desert. “Here we go.” I sighed. I walked out. Here’s to me finding the Atlantis of the Sands and Victor.

"The Abandoned City" by Natalie A.

Once upon a time there was an abandoned city with no one and nothing there. It looked all old, cracked and torn apart. It’s like no one had lived there for centuries. One day these sailors came by on their ship looking for lost treasure someone had told them about. It was foggy, they couldn’t see anything not even know where they were going. . . . Until they made a big thump! They had bumped into something hard, they tried moving the ship but they couldn’t. It’s like if they have landed on an island, but they couldn’t tell because of all the fog in the sky. So they decided to set foot and walk to go and explore on what mystery they had bumped into.

           As the sailors moved closer and deeper the fog was going away little by little. It took the sailors a few/couple of days to finally realize after they’ve been through every part they looked at each other and said, “WERE ON AN ISLAND!!” Suddenly they got quite. . . . One of the sailors looked like something was on his mind! The sailor ran quickly to the ship and looked at the map. Carefully he plotted their points on where they had landed and where the treasure was hidden. Then within a few minutes he looked up, while the other sailors anxiously waiting for what he was going to say. . . . . . “WERE HERE, WERE HERE THIS IS THE ISLAND WHERE THE TREASURE IS!!” Immediately the sailors formed into groups and got supplies from the ship and headed out all in different directions in search of the lost treasure.

          On their way one of the groups came across of what it looks like an abandon city. Not much of a city was left; everything was torn, spider-webs everywhere it’s just a mess. So the sailors kept on going. It was about a few hours that had passed when another group of sailors had found this mysterious little lagoon with two long palm trees crossing each other forming an X. it was not later than but they had realized but as one of the sailors said, “THE TREASURE!! THIS MUST BE WERE THE TREASURE IS!!” Quickly everyone started digging and looking through patches, everywhere.

     After all their hard work they’ve had found it. “THE TREASURE! IT’S REALLY HERE WERE GOING TO BE RICH!!” they all said. They were filled with joy and excitement they decided to have a feast and celebrate. There celebration lasted up for two whole days. Somehow the word got out, “THESE SAILORS HAD FOUND THE LOST TREASURE FILLED WITH GOLD, RUBIES, EMERALDS AND MUCH MORE”

           In a few days thousands of people came to the island. They all rejoiced with happiness. Then pretty soon the sailors decided “Why don’t we stay here?” So the sailors went back to the old abandon city, and eventually years pasted and the sailors were able to reconstruct and build many new things were the old abandon city once laid. Throughout the years thousands of people came to visit and some stayed, the sailors had turned and old abandon city into something where people can enjoy themselves. The sailors once again rejoiced and rejoiced of what a journey they’ve had made. But they knew that deep down they knew it was, after all a pirate city.

"Farewell, But Not Forgotten" by Ashleigh P.

Grandmas play an important role in our lives, leaving us with wonderful memories that usually

Start at a very early age.  My grandma spoiled me with love, attention, and always giving me compliments.  I will always remember feeling happy when I was with her.  I will also never forget her cooking.  Grandma was Italian!  Most Italians are good cooks!  Although she is gone from earth, she is always in my heart making me smile with all my memories of us together.

  It is Easter Sunday, the year 2004.  It is a warm day and the air is still.  I’m at least five years old and at grandma’s house in Covina, Ca. for an Easter egg hunt with my cousins.  As I walked in the backyard I can see that the dark green grass was taller than usual, and on top lyed colorful eggs.  Just like an egg lying in the nest.  Tons of colorful eggs were on the grass.  Inside the eggs were candy and money just waiting for us to pick them up.

  Since I was the youngest of the grandchildren, my cousins made sure my basket was filled with more eggs than theirs.

  I remember wearing a pink dress with white sandals and  white stockings.  My grandma loved the way I dressed, and from then on, I was called her pink, beautiful, pirate girl.  My grandma always made me feel good with her compliments.

  There was always one egg left to find.  It was “The Golden Egg.”  Grandma always hid this egg good.  I wanted to find it! Where could it be?  What was inside of it?  Grandma came up to me, picked me up and said “Ash my little pink pirate, the Golden Egg is behind the statue.”  I never ran so fast before.  There it was!  A yellow egg.  I screamed “I found it!”  My hands were shaking as I opened the egg.  Inside the egg was a folded up $20.00 bill.  I ran to my grandma shouting with excitement “Thank you! Now I can buy us an ice cream when the ice cream truck drives by.”

  Going over my grandma’s house also meant watching our movie together.  It was “Pirates of the Caribbean.”  I always sat on her lap while we watched the movie together.  This was our special time together.  We had so many laughs.

  Even though we watched that movie well over twenty times, we never got tired of it.  Probably because it meant a lot to both of us just being together.

  I will never forget her cooking either.  Grandma was born in Italy and most of her relatives were professional cooks.  That day she made us a great ham with mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and fresh baked rolls.  She always went out of her way to cook us a wonderful, delicious feast.

  Grandma knew my favorite.  It was a soup called Pastina.  Very simple to make, and I loved it.

She had a bowl ready for me.  Only for me!  I always felt special!

  It is now about four years later and I’m nine years old.  I got very sad when I learned my grandma was very, very sick.  I do remember talking to her over the phone before she went to the hospital.  She said “Ashleigh, be a good girl and never, ever give up.  Always try your hardest.  I love you.”

  I didn’t know that would be the last conversation we would have.  If I did, I would have said more to her.  Would have let her know how special she was to me.  How I enjoyed watching our movie together.

  Hospitals have rules.  I was too young to go in the room.  I remember waiting in a room with my relatives, while everyone else was taking turns going in to see her.  It still didn’t make sense to me.  She was my grandma.  I needed to see her again.

  A few hours later, I got news of her passing.  I remember thinking “Who is going to watch “Pirates of The Caribbean” with me?”  I will never hear “My pink, beautiful pirate girl.”

  In conclusion, I have learned to live life to the fullest with family. Spend lots of time with them and don’t be afraid to tell or show your love to them.  Life is too short!

"Timmy" by Jose M.

This is the story of Timmy, Timmy Baylorfield. Well, this is sort of, more of a autobiography rather than a story, but I guess it wouldn't be autobiography since Timmy didn't write this. So in a way it's kind of like a biography, except it's fiction so... Let's just call this a fictional biography. Once again, this is the fictional biography of Timmy Baylorfield. As a kid Timmy was really strange compared to other children of his age. Timmy was different. Timmy was an orphan, unloved by both of his biological parents. Although he knew he was adopted and that his real parents never loved him, he was never sad. He didn't look at it that way, he looked at it as, since he was so cool his parents felt bad about them not being worthy of raising a child as cool as Timmy, so they sent him were his parents were actually cool and worthy of his raising. As you can see Timmy looked at the better things of a situation. Unfortunately for him, he was always in bad situations, which he always got through, except for the death of his adoptive father, due to a drunk driver running him over. Timmy loved him, but not just as a father, also as a great human being. His father, Tommy Baylorfield, was an outstanding man, who was very wealthy, young, and caring. Tommy's childhood was very rough, but through out that whole experience he never looked down, always held his head up. He was able to treat his wife, Tammy, and son, Timmy to the life he felt they deserved.

When Tommy died, both Tammy and Timmy became billionaires, but neither of them cared about that. Both Timmy and Tammy were devastated, Timmy was able to look on the bright side and pull through that sadness, his mother however, could not pull through. Instead getting through it and remaking her life, Tammy fell into a deep and spiraling depression. Timmy, unfortunately was not able to look on the bright side of this situation, because well there was none. After a couple of years Tammy became a drug addict and soon met her death at age 46. Timmy was devastated, he was heart broken. Timmy was in college at the time with 3 minutes left of class to becoming a doctor and getting his PHD, before the police called him and told him his mom was found dead in her living room, and the cause for death was overdose. Instead of his mom celebration Timmy's life long dream at his graduation, she was celebrating her reunion with Tommy in heaven. Timmy had no words, he had graduated out of a college with PHD in medical science, but with no one to celebrate it with. Timmy's life changed completely in that moment. All his life Timmy had been optimistic and cheerful, until that day. After two weeks of his mother's death Timmy decided to go on with his life and not dwell on sad times. Timmy became a doctor, became even wealthier and soon fell in love. Of course he had a baby boy and it was obvious what his name was going to be, Frank, they apparently loved the name. They lived an amazing life, but not because of the money, because of the family. Timmy, who although went through great devastations in his life, always tried being optimistic, and because of that optimism, he lived happily ever after.

"Paper Thin" by Chelsea G.

I slept comfortably on my bed; suddenly I hear the alarm clock go off. What seemed weird is that it was much louder than usual. I open my eyes and I see everything bigger than me! I think to myself “What’s happening why is everything so big”. I stood up desperately from my bed in search for my mom, that’s when I realized that the distance of my bed and the floor was like a 10 story building. How do I get off? I looked at my blanket and under it there were sheets; I grabbed them and started climbing down once I was low enough I jumped off the bed like in the movies until I finally reached the floor. I was so desperate to get off I just jumped I didn’t pay attention to the height. I ran from my bed to the door what used to be a couple inches now felt like a yard. I got to the door I was small enough that I could crawl under the door ; once I was out of my room I realized I had to go down the stairs to get to the kitchen where I could hear my mom cooking. I felt it was impossible to climb down those stairs I was almost halfway down when I heard footsteps. My brother was on his way down to his room down stairs I tried getting his attention but he didn’t see or hear me. I saw that he was going downstairs so I hopped on his shoe. I was in the kitchen now and I could see what my mom always yelled at me about, the kitchen floor was filthy. Thank god we had Chinese food a week ago there was still peas on the from it. I decided to try to get my mom’s attention by kicking the peas near her so she can see something move and see me. I didn’t get to move the peas because she had already lifted me off the ground and puts me in her purse!!?? I’m in her purse during the car ride (confused, screaming hoping she’ll hear and it’s dark).After spending about an hour in silence, I hear the sound of a zipper opening to find myself blinded by a celestial ray of light. I could only see a peach blob coming at me at full speed and then I felt an asphyxiating pinch. As my vision cleared she carried me through the air and I found myself in someone else’s palm. Soon enough I was once again being dragged across the air, but this time I caught a glimpse of her name tag. Courtney. She then stuffed me in a metallic prison. “cha-ching” I then realized what that sound meant. IM A DOLLAR!?!?!?! AHHHHHHHHHH .

"Do You Draw?" by Raven F.

Dear Diary,

I love sitting under that tree just thinking about what to do next. Watching all the other kids just walking around is a good way to help me think of something new to draw. I really get into my drawings when I’m alone not being disturbed. One time I even skipped lunch just to draw the entire lunch room, including the kid’s .But I’ve never actually shown my drawings to anyone before. I mean you don’t just show people your drawing as if you’re some kind of famous artist like Picasso or whatever, this thing takes time. But, I’ve decided that I’m going to enter into the Merlaine Middle School Draw-Athon this afternoon at my school. The winner gets the new SkullCandy earphones that just went on the market two weeks ago. I’ve been dying to have them. All I have to do is put this new drawing that I’ve been working on for weeks into the blog so people can vote, and choose their winner. I’m kind of scared though. I don’t know if the kinds of things I draw are what normal kids like. I draw things that are kind of abstract and weird looking, Bu...But don’t get me wrong, they really do look good. Oh my goodness, I just described Picasso’s work.

             Well…I did it; I put my new piece in. My confidence is really low though. I overheard Nyla Droops  say that she had her uncle give her special pointers on her drawing (Her uncle is like some big artist that graduated high school early, and went on to go to school to the art institute ). I mean how I am supposed to compete with that. And on top of that, Dove Cortez was showing everyone in class her journal of drawings that she apparently has been drawing in since she was nine years old. I have absolutely no chance of winning. And if it’s not one of those two who win, it’ll be some other kid with the amazing talent to draw.

Next Week…

The results are in!!! , and guess who won…Me!!! I can’t believe people actually liked my drawing. It’s okay to have a different style than others. Sometimes different can be the new interesting thing around. Everyone’s drawing was so good, but I guess people don’t always like the usual. I’m so glad I entered into the Draw-Athon. Now I’m listening through my new fresh earphones feeling pretty proud of myself right now.