View all posts by baseho269:
Spring is so special
Soft sod sparkles in the sun
Springtime makes me smile
Peanut butter and jellyfish
Is my mile-long shark’s favorite dish
Well, it used to be, until
We put on the windowsill
The tank of Freddy, my goldfish
“Ugghhh,” said Abby, dragging her backpack into her classroom. “School.” She hung up her backpack and made her lunch choice. Then she sat down at her desk and waited for class to begin. As her teacher, Mr. Smalls, began lecturing them on their lousy grammar in the essay about biology yesterday, she sighed and reached into her pocket. A piece of paper fell out, and she read the one word on it out loud. “Giddyup!” A shiver went up her spine as her chair said “Sure thing, but for heaven’s sake, grab on or you’ll fall off!” She quickly turned around in her chair and grabbed onto it, ignoring her classmate’s funny looks. “Giddyup!” she shouted again. Her chair reared up, and began to charge at the closed door. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” she screamed as they crashed through the door with a ear-splitting BANG! And then, she was tearing down the hall, and the chair was screaming “Yee-haw!”
If I were in Brian’s position in the book “Hatchet”, then when I woke up, I would try to find food. Maybe go fishing, find nuts, or something like that. Maybe I could find some edible vegetation. Anyways, I would definitely look for food first.
I might also start looking for a place to sleep. If I couldn’t find one, I would make one. I would find materials for a fire, because that would keep me warm, cook food, keep away bugs, and maybe even help me be found. But, like I said, food first
Buzz! That is the only sound I ever hear. Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! The background music of my life. Wait, FOOD? Is that FOOD? It is! So MUCH food! Yummy, yummy.
Buzz! Hmmmm? I’m not flying, and my wings never sound that deep. I will follow it. GASP! He stealing my heart. Help, he is beautiful! The most handsome fly that I will ever see! Will you marry me? I feel my conciousness slipping away. Or, wait-K-K-K-K-K. Obviously, she doesn’t like me. Why else would she die on me. On thanksgiving, nonetheless. Oh, well. Buh-bye!
At first, I was nothing. At least, as far as I knew. But I could kind of feel myself developing. It is a very weird feeling, to know something even before you are you. Does this make sense? It makes sense to me. But now, as I’m telling the story, I’m not so sure.
Anyways, as I’m sure you’re wondering, who am I? What am I? I am a tree. You might be thinking, “Oh, sure. A whole chapter book about a tree? Yeah, right,”. Well, I totally get that perspective. For a human, it’s perfectly normal.
You are a human, right? That’s what I thought.
So anyways, I am a tree, but at the point we’re at right now, I don’t know that, because I do not yet exist. So I just sit here and listen to the hustle and bustle going on around me.
Soon I am developed enough to be curious. What are these noises? Where do they come from?
Ok, ok, I get it. If you know anything about plants, you know that they don’t hear. For that matter, they don’t normally write stories, either.
I get it. I get that if you are an adult or especially sciency kid, you probably don’t believe it. You’re probably thinking I’m a creepy old dude who thinks he’s a tree and is quite possibly a little insane.
But, seriously, in this world, what’s the fun without a little magic here and there? I know, people are brought up being told “Witches are bad” or “Magic isn’t real”.
Seriously? Is this what you believe? Or, more accurately, is this what you want to believe?
Or do you want to believe that there is magic,
that leaves can talk and hear and write, that unicorns are real and that forest fires are caused by dragons? (we’ll get to that later)
So, if I’m doing my job right, hopefully I’ve gotten you thinking.
If I’m not doing my job right, then I’m fairly sure that a certain woodcutter is going to cut me down because I’m boring and not making him any money.
Now, where was I?
Oh yes. I listened and listened to the sounds of the world. I got the feeling I was trapped, with all of these wonders happening without me. I got jittery. I feared that I would die without ever knowing the world.
Later on, I wished I had just stayed put.
But, I was scared. And fear can often make you do things you regret. This was one of those times.
I got more and more frightened, and the more frightened I got, the harder I pushed on the walls that were encasing me. I could sense that some of me was already out, but there was no light, no noise where that part was. I later found out that those were my roots.
But then one day, I saw light, and I was out! Everything was so. . . big! There were enormous green stalks everywhere!!!
I was nervous, but I was free! I couldn’t stop looking around. It was a bright, sunny day, though it had been so dark underground that I would’ve thought it was bright even in the darkest night. I stood there (because what else could I do?) and observed everything.
Suddenly, an enormous oval shape blotted out the sun.
“Hello,” it said. Was it talking to me? I was just a simple weed, as far as it could see.
“Yes, you. And I can tell a tree from a weed any day,” it said. I wanted to say “How are you speaking to me? Also, can you read my thoughts?” It said:
“First of all, yes, I can sort of read your thoughts. Even though you can’t think without a brain, and you don’t have a brain,” Even though it was true, I found it sort of offending.
“Second of all, I am not an it. I am a girl, and my name is Lulu,” it said. Suddenly, I realized that maybe I could talk. I spoke exactly what was on my mind, and it came out sounding kind of silly.
“What is a Lulu?” I asked.
Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want, but get it over with. I need to move on.
You done? Good.
The thing laughed and said
“I am a Lulu, and I am a human girl!”
So I said:
“What is a Hoomun Grul?”
Get. It. Over. With.
“I am a female homo sapien,”
For some reason, the sciency words gave me the message.
“Oh,” I said. “You’re not a Hoomun Grul. You’re a human girl. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
Seriously, all this laughter is making me feel like I’m writing a comedy. I’m not. I’m just writing the very serious story of my life.
So yeah, ha ha ha, very funny.
“Do you mind if I dig you up and plant you somewhere different? Right now you’re on the school playground, and that’s not exactly the safest place for a tree literally shorter than my pinky toe,”
Instead of answering her question I said,
“Did you just compare me to your toe?”
Which is admittedly very funny.
“Yes, but answer my question,” she said.
“Where will you put me?” I ask.
“In a large pot, until you’re big enough to be in my yard,” she says.
“OK,” I say.
And with that, she scooped my up and away from the place I had called home for all of my very short (so far) life.