Police File
Charles littlefoot
G: M
Age: 20
Cause of Death: Got tangled in French blinds while robbing an EMS store of twenty pairs of gloves.
Biography: Charles Littlefoot was an accomplished swing dancer and part of the Broadway production of My Little Pony. Mr. Little had the lead role. He was also the proud owner of the International Glove Museum in Idaho. Mr. Little was married to Gladys little. They had two children, Jimmy and Yurty. Apparently Mr. Little had to sell his collection of gloves from his museum to pay his mortgage. He then went to a nearby EMS store to replenish his collection. Mr. little was entangled in the French blinds during his escape and died of dehydration.
Friday, October 30, 2009
A Night at Ravensmoor Manor
It was a dark, quiet night, as I drove toward the imposing façade of the old Ravensmoor family home.
All of my friends had stayed the night there one time or another, but not me, I had heard the stories, that place was HAUNTED. I had my sleeping bag and a flashlight and was ready to stay the night no matter what spooks I might encounter. As I drove up the overgrown drive, I remembered the atmosphere of the house. It looked different than the repetitive suburban houses in the neighborhood where I lived, the house stuck out like a black dot on a colored background. I stopped the car in front of the door, grabbed my stuff, and walked up the steps. The house had been abandoned for years, so there was a lock on the door to keep vandals out, however my friend’s father owns the property and loans us keys for our overnight stays. Walking inside I locked the door behind me, an ominous event even though I have the key. I swept the beam of my flashlight around the room trying to get a good look of the place. The entrance hall was just as spooky as I remembered it, when I visited during daylight, the staircase on the left wall and large fireplace toward the center. The room would have been beautiful when it was still in good shape, but recently part of the stairway had collapsed and no one had been upstairs for years. I laid my sleeping bag on the floor and decided to go exploring on the first floor. To the right was the library, it shelves had been emptied of its contents long ago, when the family that lived here, the Ravensmoors, mysteriously moved away without telling anyone leaving the house to decay. The piano that still sat in the corner, far too heavy to bother moving, sat quietly. As I turned to look elsewhere I heard a key being played on the instrument and turned sharply to face it, but it had just been a piece of plaster falling from the ceiling that landed on the keys…Or was it. I decided to stop exploring and get some rest, just to get this whole thing over with. I got into my sleeping bag and turned off my flashlight. The darkness swallowed up the entire room in seconds, and it was disturbingly quiet, not a sound from outside or in. Then I heard what sounded like a combination between an uncoiling spring and a pig squealing coming from upstairs. I lay there motionless, unable to see anything, unable to do anything, just waiting for something horrible to happen. I was startled out of my trance by a clock somewhere chiming the hour, I counted the chimes. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13? I felt a chill run down my spine, but the clock continued to chime. I sighed with relief, the thing must be broken I thought to myself. That’s when I heard the rumbling noise coming from the basement, except is wasn’t just a noise, you could feel it. The sound of glasses clinking nearby assured me that the rumbling was real. Then I heard a creak, and a cracking, as the floor beneath me gave way and I plummeted down endlessly into a dark void. I heard voices of unseen spirits mocking me as I fell. I sat up yelling for help. The darkness was gone and I was sitting on the floor in the entrance hall. I stood up feeling relief that I was free from that awful nightmare. It was still early in the morning, but I decided that I had stayed here long enough. I went to the door to unlock it, when I realized that the key was gone! I searched around where I had slept, when I had a chilling thought. The basement door creaked open, and I descended into the musty underworld and there, in the middle of the floor, was the key.
All of my friends had stayed the night there one time or another, but not me, I had heard the stories, that place was HAUNTED. I had my sleeping bag and a flashlight and was ready to stay the night no matter what spooks I might encounter. As I drove up the overgrown drive, I remembered the atmosphere of the house. It looked different than the repetitive suburban houses in the neighborhood where I lived, the house stuck out like a black dot on a colored background. I stopped the car in front of the door, grabbed my stuff, and walked up the steps. The house had been abandoned for years, so there was a lock on the door to keep vandals out, however my friend’s father owns the property and loans us keys for our overnight stays. Walking inside I locked the door behind me, an ominous event even though I have the key. I swept the beam of my flashlight around the room trying to get a good look of the place. The entrance hall was just as spooky as I remembered it, when I visited during daylight, the staircase on the left wall and large fireplace toward the center. The room would have been beautiful when it was still in good shape, but recently part of the stairway had collapsed and no one had been upstairs for years. I laid my sleeping bag on the floor and decided to go exploring on the first floor. To the right was the library, it shelves had been emptied of its contents long ago, when the family that lived here, the Ravensmoors, mysteriously moved away without telling anyone leaving the house to decay. The piano that still sat in the corner, far too heavy to bother moving, sat quietly. As I turned to look elsewhere I heard a key being played on the instrument and turned sharply to face it, but it had just been a piece of plaster falling from the ceiling that landed on the keys…Or was it. I decided to stop exploring and get some rest, just to get this whole thing over with. I got into my sleeping bag and turned off my flashlight. The darkness swallowed up the entire room in seconds, and it was disturbingly quiet, not a sound from outside or in. Then I heard what sounded like a combination between an uncoiling spring and a pig squealing coming from upstairs. I lay there motionless, unable to see anything, unable to do anything, just waiting for something horrible to happen. I was startled out of my trance by a clock somewhere chiming the hour, I counted the chimes. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13? I felt a chill run down my spine, but the clock continued to chime. I sighed with relief, the thing must be broken I thought to myself. That’s when I heard the rumbling noise coming from the basement, except is wasn’t just a noise, you could feel it. The sound of glasses clinking nearby assured me that the rumbling was real. Then I heard a creak, and a cracking, as the floor beneath me gave way and I plummeted down endlessly into a dark void. I heard voices of unseen spirits mocking me as I fell. I sat up yelling for help. The darkness was gone and I was sitting on the floor in the entrance hall. I stood up feeling relief that I was free from that awful nightmare. It was still early in the morning, but I decided that I had stayed here long enough. I went to the door to unlock it, when I realized that the key was gone! I searched around where I had slept, when I had a chilling thought. The basement door creaked open, and I descended into the musty underworld and there, in the middle of the floor, was the key.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Halloween Party That Molly Went To 2 Years Ago
My favorite Halloween memory was one year when Erin Anderson’s parents had an anniversary costume party. All of us kids had a blast. With poker games in the chair and table storage room, soda, candy, fake cigarettes, and music. It got especially exciting when they played Bohemian Rhapsody, by Queen, and we lip-synced dramatically.
That will always go down in my memory as one of the most fun nights of my life.
That will always go down in my memory as one of the most fun nights of my life.
Christy--October 30, 2009--Favorite Halloween Memory
I don’t have just one favorite Halloween memory. I must say, I enjoy Halloween much more these days than I did when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. When I was very young, someone else usually figured-out how to make my costume, and I never went to many parties. But these days it’s different, and in early spring I like to start thinking about perspective costume ideas for the upcoming October.
When I was about four-years-old, I was entirely captivated by horses and cowgirls. My parents took pity on me, and found me a little, blue, felt, cowgirl hat and a checkered outfit to wear with it. I need to admit that I really don’t remember any of this at all, but if I did remember it, I’m sure I would look back on it very fondly.
I don’t remember many great costumes from my early childhood, but I mostly remember the costumes my brothers wore, because I thought my brothers and their costumes were the height of cool. One year my brother Phil dressed as an alien, with a really scary plastic alien mask (which deeply bothered me, and still sort of does), and another year he dressed as a convict. Tom will be eternally famous for the Halloween he dressed as a bundle of grapes. He wore all green, and then duct-taped tons of green balloons onto his clothes. Another year, Tom dressed as a mummy and so I did also. We wrapped toilet paper and cheese cloth around each of us until we looked thoroughly mummified.
For the last few years, I haven’t gone trick-or-treating in my own neighborhood, but I’ve attended parties at friend’s houses. One especially vivid memory of mine was made on a Wednesday in 2007, which was Halloween night. My friends and I were walking around a very dark, very quiet neighborhood once darkness had completely fallen. It was very cold outside, but everyone was so excited that it didn’t bother us. That night, the stars were especially spectacular; gleaming and twinkling. I decided to lay-down in the middle of the street so as to get a better view of the stars, and everyone followed. I remember being very happy, with my buddies, and the stars on that Halloween.
When I was about four-years-old, I was entirely captivated by horses and cowgirls. My parents took pity on me, and found me a little, blue, felt, cowgirl hat and a checkered outfit to wear with it. I need to admit that I really don’t remember any of this at all, but if I did remember it, I’m sure I would look back on it very fondly.
I don’t remember many great costumes from my early childhood, but I mostly remember the costumes my brothers wore, because I thought my brothers and their costumes were the height of cool. One year my brother Phil dressed as an alien, with a really scary plastic alien mask (which deeply bothered me, and still sort of does), and another year he dressed as a convict. Tom will be eternally famous for the Halloween he dressed as a bundle of grapes. He wore all green, and then duct-taped tons of green balloons onto his clothes. Another year, Tom dressed as a mummy and so I did also. We wrapped toilet paper and cheese cloth around each of us until we looked thoroughly mummified.
For the last few years, I haven’t gone trick-or-treating in my own neighborhood, but I’ve attended parties at friend’s houses. One especially vivid memory of mine was made on a Wednesday in 2007, which was Halloween night. My friends and I were walking around a very dark, very quiet neighborhood once darkness had completely fallen. It was very cold outside, but everyone was so excited that it didn’t bother us. That night, the stars were especially spectacular; gleaming and twinkling. I decided to lay-down in the middle of the street so as to get a better view of the stars, and everyone followed. I remember being very happy, with my buddies, and the stars on that Halloween.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
An Outbreak: By Sam
(Audio Log of Dr. Kline: Head of Medical, Alaskan Facility)
First sign of outbreak: We lose contact with The Archetype facilities in Sheffield U.K
There are reports from the surrounding towns that there are people running extremely fast and devouring others. They run with incredible speed and almost look dead.
Second sign of Outbreak:They quarantine London and NATO is notified.
The same circumstances are happening along the east coast of The U.S
Third sign of Outbreak: U.S Military begins surgical strikes on the cities of Boston, and New York.
Last sign of Outbreak: Contact is lost with all of east coast and they move the remaining Archetype staff including myself to our Alaskan facilities. Contact cannot be made with any foreign government or military and we are running out of food,supplies,and power......John?........John!?...OHMYGOD!!!!! QUARANTINE THE MEDICAL BAY..AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (Radio static...)
First sign of outbreak: We lose contact with The Archetype facilities in Sheffield U.K
There are reports from the surrounding towns that there are people running extremely fast and devouring others. They run with incredible speed and almost look dead.
Second sign of Outbreak:They quarantine London and NATO is notified.
The same circumstances are happening along the east coast of The U.S
Third sign of Outbreak: U.S Military begins surgical strikes on the cities of Boston, and New York.
Last sign of Outbreak: Contact is lost with all of east coast and they move the remaining Archetype staff including myself to our Alaskan facilities. Contact cannot be made with any foreign government or military and we are running out of food,supplies,and power......John?........John!?...OHMYGOD!!!!! QUARANTINE THE MEDICAL BAY..AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (Radio static...)
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Christy--My Obituary
Christina Rozek, age 16, died at Bishop Feehan high school, surrounded by strangers wearing plaid school uniforms. Officials say she died from acute PSAT syndrome. She was found sprawled on the tiled floor, with ten number-two Ticonderoga pencils, all sharpened, clutched in her still warm hand.
She was a ducky and fantastic sister, daughter, friend, and chemistry student. She lived a long and happy life, at least half of which was occupied by activities run by a certain Mrs. L. Christina enjoyed coloring, skiing, and instant miso-soup packets. She was admired by all of her family and friends for her obvious devotion to an establishment named McGuckin Hardware which is centered in Boulder, Colorado.
At the scene of the incident on Wednesday, October 14, 2009, fellow student and test-taker Hunter P.W. claims that while he was reading a particularly confusing problem concerning gumballs, polar bears, and quadratic functions, Christina fell right out of her chair, after marking her multiple choice answer. “It was totally epically weird, dude” says Hunter, age 16.
She was a ducky and fantastic sister, daughter, friend, and chemistry student. She lived a long and happy life, at least half of which was occupied by activities run by a certain Mrs. L. Christina enjoyed coloring, skiing, and instant miso-soup packets. She was admired by all of her family and friends for her obvious devotion to an establishment named McGuckin Hardware which is centered in Boulder, Colorado.
At the scene of the incident on Wednesday, October 14, 2009, fellow student and test-taker Hunter P.W. claims that while he was reading a particularly confusing problem concerning gumballs, polar bears, and quadratic functions, Christina fell right out of her chair, after marking her multiple choice answer. “It was totally epically weird, dude” says Hunter, age 16.
Friday, October 16, 2009
The Amazing Adventures of Lightning Man!
(For those of you who were not in class when we did this prompt, it was for the girls to write a story that would appeal to young boys, and the guys to write a story for young girls. So this is my attempt at a "boy story")
Lightning streaked across the sky! It was Lightning Man, shooting lightning from his eyes to destroy the evil mucilaginous being that was coating the entire city with saliva, vomit, snot, and other bodily fluids. Lightning Man grabbed Mucus Man in his iron fist, but the slimy creature just slipped out of his hand. So Lighting Man called in his super friends, Boulder Man, Fire Hair Man, and Lobster Claw man. Boulder Man threw rocks at Mucus Man. Fire Hair Man used his flaming hair to try and melt Mucus Man. Lobster Claw Man used his lobster claw to try and cut Mucus Man to pieces. But none of it worked. There appeared to be no hope! Lightning Man threw his lightning spear at Mucus Man, and it killed Mucus Man. The city was safe at last!
Lightning streaked across the sky! It was Lightning Man, shooting lightning from his eyes to destroy the evil mucilaginous being that was coating the entire city with saliva, vomit, snot, and other bodily fluids. Lightning Man grabbed Mucus Man in his iron fist, but the slimy creature just slipped out of his hand. So Lighting Man called in his super friends, Boulder Man, Fire Hair Man, and Lobster Claw man. Boulder Man threw rocks at Mucus Man. Fire Hair Man used his flaming hair to try and melt Mucus Man. Lobster Claw Man used his lobster claw to try and cut Mucus Man to pieces. But none of it worked. There appeared to be no hope! Lightning Man threw his lightning spear at Mucus Man, and it killed Mucus Man. The city was safe at last!
Peruvian Mushrooms
Beth Allard arrived at the lake, with her small motorboat in tow. She had gotten a call 15 minutes earlier from her friend John Randolph. He had been out fishing in his rowboat, when his oars where sent overboard in a strange chain off events, and floated far away. He had been attempting to reel in what felt like a very big fish. John tugged furiously at the line, and finally pulled up what turned out to be a 9-pound bowling ball, that had been stuck on a rock. It went flying off his hook and knocked the hammer he had the fish into the water. Apparently, it had sunk quickly to the bottom, and had hit an old, fairly small land mine that had been sitting there since 1942, when the lakebed had originally been an army training camp during World War II. Needless to say, the small blast shook the boat just enough to knock both the oars clear out of his reach.
So anyway, Beth backed her boat into the water, and jumped in. She started her boat, and found John with her binoculars. She sped off, and arrived there within minutes.
“Are you okay, John?” she asked.
“Why, I’m not John, I’m Neil Armstrong!” he replied.
Beth thought about this. Then she realized something.
“Did you get hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Did you eat the Peruvian Mushrooms over there?”
“If you mean those orange things, then yup.”
Beth sighed with frustration.
“Those mushrooms only make you think you’re Neil Armstrong. They do that to everybody. I’ve no idea why.”
So anyway, Beth backed her boat into the water, and jumped in. She started her boat, and found John with her binoculars. She sped off, and arrived there within minutes.
“Are you okay, John?” she asked.
“Why, I’m not John, I’m Neil Armstrong!” he replied.
Beth thought about this. Then she realized something.
“Did you get hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Did you eat the Peruvian Mushrooms over there?”
“If you mean those orange things, then yup.”
Beth sighed with frustration.
“Those mushrooms only make you think you’re Neil Armstrong. They do that to everybody. I’ve no idea why.”
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Christy--Assignment #5--When I Discovered My Superpower
I discovered my superpower on a freezing, rainy day in October. I have to admit, I was sort of expecting to wake up that morning with a superpower. I’ve heard from all of my friends that standardized testing actually does change your life. So, when I went to bed in the evening of the day I took the PSAT exam, I knew that I would wake up a different person.
That night, I dreamed strange dreams, many of them involving George Clooney. When I awoke, that fateful and dreary day, I looked at my hands to see if they had webbing, and at my wrists, because perhaps I could shoot spider’s silk from them, but I couldn’t. I meandered down the stairs to make my morning tea, and I found out that, after all, I couldn’t light things on fire with my brain.
My spirits were high and I was determined to find my superpower, so I went outside, shivering and sneezing, and I crawled on top of the garage. I figured that most superhero abilities involve doing cool things on top of buildings, so this really was the place to start. Further investigation led me to conclude that I could not change my appearance at will, grow scales, or make anything I touched turn into gold.
I slid off the roof and went inside to make myself a baked potato. I rummaged around in the pantry, but the potato I found was really old, so I decided to throw it into the woods. I grasped it in my right hand and headed for the front door. When I got outside, I prepared myself to chuck the potato as far as I could, but something was very wrong. The potato looked…different. I got scared, so I dropped it, and it landed on the front step with a squeal. “Dude, did that potato just squeal?” I knelt down to get a better look at it, and the potato looked right back at me.
So, that was the day I discovered my superpower. I suppose my unique ability to bring moldy potatoes into an animated form of life can be called a special gift.
That night, I dreamed strange dreams, many of them involving George Clooney. When I awoke, that fateful and dreary day, I looked at my hands to see if they had webbing, and at my wrists, because perhaps I could shoot spider’s silk from them, but I couldn’t. I meandered down the stairs to make my morning tea, and I found out that, after all, I couldn’t light things on fire with my brain.
My spirits were high and I was determined to find my superpower, so I went outside, shivering and sneezing, and I crawled on top of the garage. I figured that most superhero abilities involve doing cool things on top of buildings, so this really was the place to start. Further investigation led me to conclude that I could not change my appearance at will, grow scales, or make anything I touched turn into gold.
I slid off the roof and went inside to make myself a baked potato. I rummaged around in the pantry, but the potato I found was really old, so I decided to throw it into the woods. I grasped it in my right hand and headed for the front door. When I got outside, I prepared myself to chuck the potato as far as I could, but something was very wrong. The potato looked…different. I got scared, so I dropped it, and it landed on the front step with a squeal. “Dude, did that potato just squeal?” I knelt down to get a better look at it, and the potato looked right back at me.
So, that was the day I discovered my superpower. I suppose my unique ability to bring moldy potatoes into an animated form of life can be called a special gift.
The Speck of Dirt
I weird story I wrote in class, but didn't end up sharing.
The moment I found that teeny tiny little piece of dirt, I freaked out. That horrible little dirtball would ruin my beautiful painting! My painting was of a green grassy field so the dirt was blatantly visible. Since the painting was still wet I blew ever so softly on the dirt to make it fall off. It didn’t budge. Then, I tried poking it with my brush, still nothing. At this point I was very angry, so I just got out a meat cleaver and scraped furiously! After that the dirt was gone but my painting had been ruined. I should really learn not to overreact. So here I am with my smudgy painting thinking about what to do now, then inspiration struck. I went outside grabbed a huge ball of dirt and hurled it at my canvas. Then I splashed various paints all over it. When I was done it turned out as a brilliant piece modern art.
Crazy Grandmother robs a Mc Donald’s
Friday, October 9, 2009
Christy--October 9, 2009--Why I Write
First of all, I write because I have now signed-up for Teen Writing Group three semesters in a row, and writing is definitely a part of the class. I also write because I enjoy it, and I think that it is a skill that any well rounded person should work-on.
To really get down to the deep, dark truth, there’s a reason why I signed up for Teen Writing Group. The advent of my illustrious writing career in the mid 1990s was with my first work, “Mousey and Squeaky.” This was a captivating tale about two young mouse children and their yearnings for cheese.
Throughout my youth, I have been surrounded by a family of fantastic writers. As I have grown-up, I have watched my brother, Tom pursue the craft of creative writing with an imagination and persistence that has always amazed me. I have always wanted to pursue creative writing, but I could never get on my feet, and I didn’t have any confidence that what I wrote would ever be any good.
So to get to the meat of the matter, the reason why I decided to take-up writing, and to therefore join writing group, is that I was utterly terrified. I thought that writing impromptu short stories in class, and having to read them to other people would be my most horrific experience. That is why I decided to join, and I’m glad that I did. It’s wonderful getting to share stories and funny ideas with my classmates.
Writing is a wonderful, fabulous thing. Without it, we would not be able to communicate through space and time with people who lived hundreds, and sometimes thousands of years ago. Through writing a person can convey ideas and subtleties of thought that cannot be portrayed through other forms of communication.
To really get down to the deep, dark truth, there’s a reason why I signed up for Teen Writing Group. The advent of my illustrious writing career in the mid 1990s was with my first work, “Mousey and Squeaky.” This was a captivating tale about two young mouse children and their yearnings for cheese.
Throughout my youth, I have been surrounded by a family of fantastic writers. As I have grown-up, I have watched my brother, Tom pursue the craft of creative writing with an imagination and persistence that has always amazed me. I have always wanted to pursue creative writing, but I could never get on my feet, and I didn’t have any confidence that what I wrote would ever be any good.
So to get to the meat of the matter, the reason why I decided to take-up writing, and to therefore join writing group, is that I was utterly terrified. I thought that writing impromptu short stories in class, and having to read them to other people would be my most horrific experience. That is why I decided to join, and I’m glad that I did. It’s wonderful getting to share stories and funny ideas with my classmates.
Writing is a wonderful, fabulous thing. Without it, we would not be able to communicate through space and time with people who lived hundreds, and sometimes thousands of years ago. Through writing a person can convey ideas and subtleties of thought that cannot be portrayed through other forms of communication.
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