Halloween

Author's Note: In this piece, I wanted to be more scary than happy. Halloween is coming around the corner so I wanted to do a writing piece about a scary time on Halloween. This writing piece is supposed to be creative writing. This is a piece I wanted to proofread more. I usually don't spend as much time looking over my writing as I should, so it would come out of conventions. (This has not happened in real life)

As you drive through my neighborhood, you can practically smell the Halloween! There are pumpkins and spiders and fake ghosts everywhere. Although, tonight is the worst night of all. It is actually Halloween. Children are running from house to house, seeing who can get the most candy. The housewives of the neighborhood see who can decorate the house the best.  Where my family, as simple as can be, just have one pumpkin (not even carved) and an orange light bulb in our lamp post. Although, it isn't my family that doesn’t like Halloween, it's me.

It happened a long time ago. I was just a little girl, wearing my Cinderella costume. Since I was only five, I could not search the streets for fallen candy by myself, so I was sitting in the wagon with my mom and older sister pulling me along. I had to walk up each driveway in the cold, seeing teenage boys egging and toilet papering the houses. As I walked up one specific driveway far away from any other house, I rang the doorbell. As the lady of the house opened the door, it wasn't me who was saying trick-or-treat.

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The lady pulled me into her house as I screamed for my mom. Of course, my mother didn't hear me; it was just like a scary movie.  She put dark gray duck tape over my mouth and hands, and shoved me into a closet. It was pitch black, just like the night sky. I stood up and turned on the light somehow. As I stared around the room, I realized that I wasn't alone. Inside, there were my neighbors that I recognized, young and old.

We all realized that something bad was going to happen, like this lady was going to kill us or make us into stew like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. And then I thought of something. Last year when I was four, I was sitting on the couch watching TV when a beeping came on. It was a week after Halloween, so everyone thought it was a prank or something. As the women's picture came up, she looked old and wrinkled with a grin on her face and a big wart on her nose, just like a witch. As the beeping stopped a voice said "Look out for Alana Friday. Stole kids on October 31, moved houses, if seen call the number...

Alana Friday was the person that trapped us in her house.

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Over the time being, more and more kids came into the closet. Pretty soon it was full of kids and the door had to be kept open. We didn't hear mothers and fathers and police officers outside asking what was going on in there. Everyone was able to get the duck tape off of their mouths and hands so they could breathe. Young children were crying for their parents while the older ones were trying to comfort them. Finally, all of the lights in the house turned off. The digital clock in the living room said it was midnight. We finally came up with a plan to escape.

The little kids travelled out the door first. With the older ones staying in the closet making sure that the lady wouldn't come back. Finally everyone got out of the house safely. One of the older girls called 9-1-1 on their cell phones when all of a sudden, the garage door opened. Everyone hid behind bushes when the lady yelled "Where did you go. You can run but you can't hide."

Finally, sirens sounded and all of the kids jumped out of the bushes and ran. The police cars surrounded the house and the lady ran around the back of the house into the woods behind her. She was soon captured by the officers and taken to prison for violence of children.

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When I tell people that story, they think that I'm making it up or it is supposed to be one of those ghost stories that you tell camping. If they say that, I just smile and say "Ya, I made it all up. You caught me."

It was one of the scariest days of my life, even though I was only five and barely knew what was going on. That is why I hate the witches, goblins, and all of the other monsters that Halloween is based upon, because I have truly met one. 

Sarah's Key

Author's Note: This piece is a literary analysis about the book "Sarah's Key". I was trying to work on my idea development and content, also. When you read it, you can tell that for the literary analysis, I was trying to have it based on the mode of literature that this story takes place in.

Years and years ago, there was a massive killing of millions of Jews in Europe. Adolf Hitler thought that he could control the German surroundings by ridding all of the Jewish population.  Some people did in fact survive this terrible time.  People escaped, where some did die of hunger and disease. The book "Sarah's Key" was a masterpiece that explained one of the biggest tragedy's that this world has ever heard of.

"Sarah's Key" was a book that explained what life would be like as a little girl that was a Jew. She had some troubles here and there but she survived through most of that time. Tragedy happens to be one of the most popular modes of literature. It starts off with world in conflict. For this book, world in conflict is when Jews had to wear yellow stars. The yellow stars signified that they were not allowed to do certain activities, such as going to school or living in real homes. That is what poor little Sarah had to live through.

Even though the Jews were living with terrible food, water, and clothes; that wasn't even the start of it. The Vel d' Hiv round-up was one of the biggest Jewish takings that has taken place.  Unfortunately, that was the round-up that Sarah had to be put through. Her and her family, plus millions of other people, were taken on cattle trains to different concentration camps in Europe. Yes, families were split up and children were left alone. Heads were shaved and tattoos were added to bodies. For rise to power, Hitler made Jews go against their will to be killed in different gas chambers and labored activities. Although, Sarah didn't have to go through any of that.

People's lives were in fact ruined, and those people weren't even Jewish. Sarah and her friend finally escaped the concentration camp. Although, they faced some tough times on the way. They ran through woods and down streets, trying not to get caught by the French or German police. Every house on their way back to Paris would deny them because of who they were, except for one. These two people took the two girls in and gave them food, clothes, and medicine. The flaw of this is that the police found out that the two girls were staying at that house. If you lived in the time of the Holocaust and were hiding a Jew, you both would end up going to a concentration camp and to face your death. Actually, the two people were kept clear. Just Sarah's friend was taken.

Although Sarah was on her own, the two people taking care of her were always so helpful. They got her past officers when they were on their way to Paris. They also helped her out when they found her brother. Yes, Sarah did indeed have a brother. When the officers came to their apartment that one night, she locked her little brother in a secret cupboard saying that she will one day come home. She kept the key. As the three of them came back to the apartment, opened the cupboard, he was their; dead. That is one of the reasons that this book is a tragedy. The tragic fall is when she finds him and holds him in her arms one last time.

The last mode of tragedy is death or death symbolism. Yes, there was already someone who died in the book, but that wasn't the only one.  Years after the tragic accident, Sarah moved out of Paris and to the United States. Many Jewish people actually did over the course of those years immigrate to the States because of what was going on. Sarah just thought that is was the best thing to do. Something that I haven't mentioned is that there was another girl. Her name was Julia and she happened to be researching Sarah and the Vel d' Hiv round-up. As she researched for years, she finally found Sarah's son. Sarah's son told Julia that Sarah killed herself by crashing her car.

 As you can see, "Sarah's Key" was an outstanding book that explained one of the biggest tragedy's of Europe. Also, you can understand how the mode tragedy was placed well with it. Every section of the mode and book fit well together. From the round-up in the 1940's to the death of Sarah. It also made you think about how serious this time was and how horrible people must felt about it. Imagine yourself being a Jew in Europe at this time. You would've been killed. People tried to survive this time because they wanted people to remember, remember something that should never happen again.

Soccer

Author's Note: This piece, I wanted to share my experience of a soccer player. I have playing since I was just a little girl, so I wanted to share my thoughts about what the game really meant. In this piece, I wanted my voice to expand over the writing. Also, I wanted to try hard not to have any spelling errors.

You are in your position on the field. You are staring st the player across from you, getting ready to run for the ball. The whistle blows, as the ball makes its way up the field. You race in and out of people calling for the small black in white sphere. Then there's a pass, as you race for it, knocking down people in your way. I receive it and then you dribble and it's just me and the goalie. One on one as I make a move. My teammate shows up on my left and I make a pass, and them she shoots. We have a goal!

Soccer has been in my life since I was three years old. I actually played for the YMCA until I moved clubs over to Pewaukee. When I was younger, I used to be afraid of the round figure on the field. Yes the ball. My goal was to be farthest away from it on the field and never even get a touch on it. If I was passed to, I would look at it and most likely score in the other teams goal. I had a rough few years playing recreational soccer.

As I grew older, I used to get more into the game. When I went in third grade, instead of being co-ed, it went to being all girls and all boys on a team. My dad was my coach, and he would always motivate me to get ready to try-out for select soccer. Although, at the time I didn't want to even touch the ball. My dad played me all over the field. As offense, defense, and even a little bit of goalie. I started play well in the game. I would score an average of one goal a game. Actually, my team never lost a game.

When I went into the fifth grade, I tried out for the soccer team. There was around 30 girls at the try-out, and all of them knew what they were doing. Once the try-outs were done, I felt like the stress lift off my shoulders. As the try-outs were soon posted, I saw that I made a team. I was happy that I made the team, and I stayed on the team for the next four years.

Throughout my soccer playing career, I have learned that I am not the best player. Evey game and practice that I have attended I have gotten better. I have played every position and scored goals, but I also learned an important lesson. I learned that you can always get better with what you do. So you should never give up.