Creations from Individual Minds

Comments for Jacob:
Hi, Jacob,
I loved reading your story! You have a really powerful voice in the story; it was full of humor and the confidence of your first football game. I especially love the imagery you used, such as, "I just needed to figure out how to get this little jersey over some really big pads." Your conclusion was a reminder of the underlying seriousness of the piece, and it almost had me in tears. It is beautifully written in an open and emotional way, and I look forward to reading more! Great job, Jacob!
Meghan

Hi, Jacob,
I loved reading your poem! I liked how you wrote about how you feel in different situations. I can relate to "cuddling of the couch during long winter days, with lots of blankets." Being inside with blankets and a hot chocolate is the absolute best way to spend a cold, winter day. I also think it is amazing that you work so hard at football that you are willing to get up at six every morning to work out. It is simply hard enough to wake up for school that I can't imagine having to work out before school. Amazing poem, Jacob!
Meghan

Summary:
In both Jacob's story and poem, his voice was incredible.  While I was reading his story, I actually forgot that his football jersey symbolized something deeper to Jacob, because of the amazing humor written in.  At the end of the story, the serious tone of tone of the piece took over when he explained how much and why his first football still means so much to him.  Jacob's poem also did a fantastic job of describing his personality.  He even went so far as to explain his emotions in certain situations.  I thought that was extremely creative.  Jacob has a personal and emotional way of writing that I find a joy to read.

Comments for Daniel:
Hi, Daniel,
When you talked about eating cookie dough out of the package before it actually went into the oven, I started laughing. My mom and I would eat half the package of cookie dough before she actually made them. I also loved how you talked about looking through books at Barnes and Noble. Couldn't you just spend forever in there? Your blog title is fantastic, by the way.
Meghan

Summary:
Daniel's poem was a glimpse of his personality.  It directly shows who he is and what he enjoys to do.  Daniel seems to be an extremely kind and open person, and this shines through in his writing.  I loved reading his poem, and being able to relate to him in different aspects of our lives.

Comments for Mariah:
Hi, Mariah,
Wait...so did the grandma actually go to that beautiful place? She was the young girl in the story? Your story is amazing, and wonderfully written! It left me wanting to know if Delilah would ever find that mystical place with the help of the little white flower. I also loved the imagery that you used in the story; I could picture the the boy deflecting the arrows, and the beautiful little cottages. I look forward to reading more of your writing! Fantastic job!
Meghan

Hi, Mariah,
I absolutely loved the imagery you used in your poem! It helped to depict who you really are, and bring about the creative side to you. I can relate to constantly quoting books, and knowing more about fantasy worlds than the actual world. I'm glad that I am not the only person who finds themselves constantly referencing books. I also loved your line about being a princess, but do not give up hope on your personal fairy tale! It is just a matter of looking in the right places. Thank you for sharing your poem, Mariah!
Meghan

Summary:
Mariah has an extremely creative mind.  In both her story and her poem, she used imagery like it was nothing.  During her story, I could clearly picture what it was that she was writing about, and in every detail.  Her story also left me wanting to know more about the grandma and the little white flower.  Would the granddaughter get to see the wonderful town that the grandma did when she was young, or did it truly exist?  Mariah's poem was also full of imagery that enhanced the poem in a great way.  Mariah's creative style was fascinating to read.

The Golden Rule

The Golden Rule

            “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  This is known as the Golden Rule, or the rule that took the privacy out of the world. 

My name is Heather Wilkins.  I am sixteen years old, and it is currently 2045.  I am writing in this battered notebook in hopes that someday, someone will see the things that I see, and understand.  Note that these words must be kept hidden from the blind followers of the science of the Revealers, and only shared to people who can see.  I see things, and not the normal things that people see.  My parents and my friends don’t understand.  They don’t understand what kind of world we live in.

After Hitler and the Nazis fooled the world with their convincing grins and breathtaking speeches in World War II, the world was in ruins.  Americans were flustered at the sight of the torture that the Jewish people were put through in concentration camps, and even more horrified that they had no knowledge of it.  The German people would have to recover from being at the top of the world with a ruthless tyrant, and would have to pay the price.  Every other country that fought in World War II was trying to recover from debt, damage, and an extreme death toll.  Despite the damage that the war inflicted, it brought about a great change in the minds of the leaders of each nation.  In a meeting now called the Assembly of Peace, the greatest minds and leaders from each country got together in the heart of Berlin, Germany to discuss how to prevent such an act of betrayal and violence, as Hitler’s, again.  This is when the America’s president at the time, Harry S. Truman, remarked that he could never tell what was a truth or a lie out of Hitler’s mouth.   

This is what gave scientists the idea to develop the “Revealers.”  The Revealers are contacts, specially designed to fit every eye.  A unique technology is placed inside of each contact lens that allows the wearer to read other people’s emotions.  They were designed to keep the peace; as long as every person knew the other’s emotions, there would be no misinterpretation of thought or action, and no more secrets.  As long as every person knew the other’s emotions without misunderstanding, they should treat them how they would like to be treated.

Lawmakers around the world quickly took to the idea of the Revealers, claiming that they wanted to prevent “such ghastly violence and revolting betrayal.”  It soon became required for all citizens in the United States over the age of 17 to get a surgery that fused the Revealers onto the corneas of the eyes.  Citizens 12 years and older would have reusable pairs of contacts with the emotion-detecting technology embedded in the lenses.  Before an entrance into any building, each person 12 years and older has their eyes scanned using a biometric eye scanner that specifically checks for the technology of the Revealers.  If a person is not wearing their specially designed contacts, the scanner will alert a 24-hour security team.  The person will have no time to run, because security will promptly show up to take them away in less than 20 seconds.  Out of all the people that are taken away, no one knows where they are taken.  At least, that is what the government wants you to believe.

There is a small amount of people who rebel against the system of the Revealers.  They have decided that being able to read people’s emotions leaves them no room for air, no privacy.  If everyone is analyzing each thought that goes into your head whilst in a public space, it is like you are stripped bare for all to see.  Candor has become the number one priority in society, but not by choice; it was by a law and a surgery forged out of fear. 

Each person rebels differently depending on their age.  Sometimes, children 12 years and older will take out their Revealers, and walk through the scanners.  The eye scanners will automatically pick up the missing contacts, and they will be taken away.  People 17 or above can avoid the scanners, but if a person avoids the biometric eye scanners for over a month, security details will check up them to make sure they are wearing their contacts.  Many rebels are also caught this way.  When a rebel of the system is taken away, they are taken to an underground facility underneath Berlin, Germany.  The Rebels have nicknamed it Auschwitz after the horrific Nazi concentration camp during World War II that took the lives of over 1.1 million Jewish people.  The name suits it; for, the rebels are brutally tortured and nearly starved to death, similar to the Jews that were forced to attend the camp.  Once a prisoner is on their deathbed, a torturer will bring a rebel out of their weeks of solitary confinement for questioning.  They want to know why they have not been wearing their peacekeeping Revealers. 

“Easy,” the rebel will grin through greasy hair and a racking pain that causes their whole body to shake, “They endangered my peace of mind.”

A fire will light in the prison keeper’s eyes as he stares down at his decadence captive.  As these are the only unfortunate words that the rebel has muttered in the last few weeks, the warden will drag the prisoner back to their dank cell, and grimly say, “Since it was too difficult to wear the contacts, I don’t think you have a use for your eyes anymore.”  They will then proceed with the protocol of chaining the prisoner up to the wall, and brutally stabbing them in each eye to blind them.

As the torturer holds the knife above the bloodied and convulsing rebel, he will grimly whisper, “Now you will have plenty of time to think.”  The torturer holding the knife smirks, and hurls the now crimson knife to the floor.  “Welcome to Auschwitz part two.”

Now you know the terrible irony of the situation at hand; the leaders of the world “committed” to peace take rebels of the system to the heart of the violence to subject them to excruciating pain and conditions, all for one question.  The leaders of this world have broken their precious Golden Rule, and for that they must pay.  Whoever is reading this must find the rebels, and spread word of the violence.  Do not give in to allowing yourself to be brainwashed by the idea of peace by the Golden Rule and the Revealers; people deserve the right to their privacy.  My name is Heather Wilkins, and I am sixteen years old.  In two days, I will attempt to run from the surgery that fuses the Revealers onto my corneas for the rest of my life.  Do not try and find me, and do not ask how I write this information.  All I ask is that you keep this journal safe, and spread the word.

I Am...Meghan Zengel

I Am…Meghan Zengel

I am...

A sister, the teacher, the playmate, the best friend, the enemy, and the sympathizer

A daughter, laughing with my dad at private jokes, and getting overly emotional at soap operas with my mom during lunch

A rust-colored cairn-terrier, yelping with joy as the opening of the garage door announces somebody’s arrival, soundly sleeping on the top of the couch like a cat, begging for the smallest piece of white-cheddar popcorn, and laying by my feet to motivate me through my homework

A granddaughter to many, love surrounding me from all sides, and signed texts and letters coming on special occasions  

I am…

Old, tattered jeans and tennis t-shirts, sneakers patted down with mud and grime

Gray-blue eyes, and wavy brown hair always turned up in a ponytail

A crazed fan of the Doctor, the world’s only consulting detective, and the six best friends frequently found in Central Perk

Grandma’s warm diaper rolls and pumpkin pie

A passport with too many blank pages, and a desire to travel the world

A player piano, passed down four generations, to finally meet my eager, childlike fingers when I was eight

Soft pages of a new book, begging to be read

Listening to Ed Sheeran or Fall Out Boy in the mornings while swiftly preparing for school, the music to play in my head the rest of the day

A cocoon, trapped in the warmth of five heavy blankets, and dreading the moment that my alarm screams the beginning a brand new day

Playing with a chipped tennis racket, the previously white grip a dark gray with sweat, and the tough black strings fraying to a white fuzz

A house filled with love, smiles and laughs filling the air, and volunteers methodically scrubbing and sweeping away until there is not one speck of dust

Open car windows, wind plastering my hair to the seat, Ray Bans crookedly in place on face, and a personal concert of the music of my choice