Prologue
Most babies are born crying but I was born silent. It’s not that I couldn’t talk, or scream, or cry, but more that I knew not to. From the time I was born I’ve known things. Most people called it a wix (That’s how they defined powers) but I’ve always thought of it as something else, something special; it was definitely not something to die over. Too bad I was the only one who thought that way.
~~***~~
Scotland
April, 6, 6881 Arana screamed. "Push ye slow woman!" a hard voice commanded. "Ye are taking too long. The babe will die! You will not kill my heir."
""Ah! Help me I'm t...tearin'...aparahhh!"
"Ye daft woman I waited nigh on ten years for this babe. Ye will deliver me my heir safe and whole!"
"Ayhh help!!!"
“Deliver the babe now.”
“P…pp…please!!”
“Now!!”
~~***~~
My mother died on the day of my birth. My father used to tell me, pride saturating his voice, that it was as if I was a bloody demon tearing through my own mother to reach the clean fresh air. Every year on my birthday he tells me the wonder of it. About how I rid him of a horrid woman who refused to bear children who inherited the Drameir, a power that took various forms in his line. I hate my father when he talks about such things. I've always wanted a mother, a family, and friends. But I'm his heir and I have to learn my ancestors’ ways. To destroy the government. To kill all the normal humans; everyone who has ever ridiculed, and laughed at us will now live in fear. Tomorrow is the first day of a new era, the day that my powers will manifest-my 15th birthday. My name is Ares, and like the Greek god of war my birthright is destruction.
Ch: 1
15 years later…
As I broke out in a sweat, the autumn leaves twirled and spun around me; the red and gold colors mixed and shone like bright stars in the morning sun. How wondrous I thought, that the great leaves of the earth welcome me on this day. To begin the war to kill the bloodthirsty humans. They who have been draining her life force for thousands of years. Today, my fifteenth birthday, I’m inheriting my powers along with the memories of all the other Axdars. I will become the ruler of my people and I alone will start the war for us and our new beginning.
I walked deeper into the forest, my feet bare, the dirt curling around my toes, and I breathed in the fresh damp air. My first rite of passage, to walk to the curve of the mountain and into the Spine—a holy place where my people go to receive their position, in accordance to their power. Being one of the last of a half-breed kind has made my blood weaker. If my powers are not strong then I am afraid the Drameir line will die out completely. I am the last chance to redeem my dyeing and scattered tribe.
When I was finally in front of the Spine I started to disrobe. It was sacred land. Everyone who has ever lived in my tribe was born in the Spine, and so came back into it as they did since their very first breath—naked. Taking the time to catch water from a nearby stream I bathed my body. I then placed my clothes in the shade of a mother oak tree. The only thing that I took with me was my Axdars pack; it was the one thing my people allowed within the shade of the Spine. I was cleansed and I was ready.
I walked into the spine, my feet firm upon the ground, my head held high. Anxiety forced my heart to pound a drum beat against my chest. “Bum, bum, bum!” It grew louder and harder with each step. The wind swirled around me; it yanked and pulled my hair hard-bloodying the roots.
The Spine was a clear meadow surrounded by ancient oaks and firs. Inside it had seven thin long rocks pointed toward the seven great stars, Mard, Leo, Rold, Tera, Forn, Meta, and Crus—the givers of Drameir. I took my sky blue pack and let it fall to the ground. “Plop…” I went to my knees and grabbed the Creia, a ceremonial dagger used on the Axdar blood leaders. I grabbed my long white braid and cut it off midpoint. The braid toppled to the ground, almost as long as I was—we weren’t allowed to cut our hair until we turned fifteen. My dark violet eyes, the tell tale sign of my race, narrowed in pain as I sliced my forearms, then my shins, my lower back, my cheeks, and along my forehead to the bridge of my nose. Blood formed a thick puddle at my feet. Pain laced my body and I wanted to drown in it. I took out a bottle, unlaced the stopper and dipped my head back. My body was on fire. My limbs burned. Soon all there would be of Ares was a pile of ash. Legs trembling I stood up. Gong to each star rock I gave the gods a sacrifice of blood. “Abmallin!” I breathed through gritted teeth. Give me life. “Abmallin!” I cried. I went to the center of the Spine. My Father watched me from the shadows, pride enveloping his features. Pride again I thought viciously. I hate his blasted pride! As I fell to my knees, dropping to the bloody grass like a stone, about to finally receive my powers, a single idiotic thought occurred to me, my father was a mad man; and then I fainted.


Chapter 2
To be continued…

A Fighters Life

The power of one changes everything

1/4/2010

Tatiana Rodriguez



A Tale depicting a young girl’s path to save the world

Prologue
Boom! He was coming and she had to get away. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her, cursing her pure blonde hair that called out like a beacon. “Come. Come to me. I’m right here.” it said. She knew that to be caught would mean death. It was why she’d run in the first place.
As she sloshed through the mud, feet heavy, chest heaving, she swiftly thought out a plan. She had to get to the pipe hidden in the waterhole. She understood that it was possible that he would find her on the way. But even so she thought, determination hardening her features, it was the only choice that she had. It was the only chance she had to get him off her trail. She had to take it.
Ayah suddenly veered off course. Before she had been following some old trails while trying to keep low. Now she was going through completely untamed land. As she ran the tree branches whipped across her face causing splotches of blood to splatter onto her rain soaked sweater. The only sign that she felt the pain were her narrowed her eyes as she drove forward. The under growth scratched and sliced her legs leaving rips of flesh and cloth in her wake like a trail of death.
“Boom!!” He was closer. She knelt into the mud, and sniffed the air. It smelled like them, heavy and rotten. He had gotten much closer- too close. She had to get away. She started off again, her feet slipping and pushing into the mud. She was starting to lose feeling in her left leg, and she panicked. Her sheer dread only added to her already frenzied pace as she scraped through the brambles. If she did not get there soon then all would be lost.
Then up ahead, like a long awaited dawn, she saw it. She was almost there. Relief washed over her. She could have laughed. But it was short lived. As she breathed in a sigh of relief she detected it, heavy, rotten, sharp, and bitter. He was almost upon her.
She zoomed under the bushes, and dove through the old dirt mound down the water tunnel that should cover her tracks. She shimmied down an old pipe and waited. It was cramped and that brought her torn legs into view. As she ignored them she tried to console herself with the thought that she would not be caught. She could not fool herself. She had a 50/50 chance of getting out of there at best.
“Boom, boom, crash!” She froze in mid breath. He was right above her. In the seconds that she waited her heart thumped as though it was determined to get an entire life time of beats. Her blood seared through her veins. Still she did not breathe. She heard his footsteps echo in the distance and she let herself relax. He was leaving. There was no other explanation for it. She suddenly felt giddy as her heart beat slowed. She would live!
As the adrenaline rush subsided she felt the full effects of the forest’s malice. Her abrasions screamed out in pain. So shocked by this sudden onslaught she moaned. Her hands covered her mouth and a lump grew in her throat. Too afraid to make a sound she waited and wondered. Would he find...
“Crashoom!!!” Even before finishing her thought, the world collapsed. She felt the old metal pipe tear and burst as a wave of pain shattered her leg. She saw the world explode around her as dirt and water sprayed the earth black. She felt a hand grab her collar and pull her out of the pipe’s broken remains. Her mind went blank as minds often do when under so much pain and terror. He was the hunter, she the hunted, and she had just been caught.


Two months earlier…

This is just the prologue! Please tell me what you think!

Pumpkins

Pumpkins. Besides the candy. Besides the costumes. Besides the pranks. Pumpkins are the biggest thing of Halloween. Whether it's making a pumpkin have a puking mess, or a pumpkin with monster faces, or even hundreds of mysterious pumpkins lighting the way to your house, Pumpkins are a huge part of this terrifying holiday. Making them is only part of it. setting them up, and watching peoples' expressions is the rest. It can be funny. It can be awe inspiring. It can be gross. It can be scary. watching that fleet expression cross someones face is what makes it worth it.

The Truth About Forever

The Truth About Forever

By: Sarah Dessen

373 Pages


The book “The Truth About Forever” by Sarah Dessen is a master piece. A story of what can happen in life; the pain of fate, things you cannot control; desperately jumping at anything you believe will help; and above all about discovering the rules of life, & the “truth about forever.”
In “The Truth About Forever” I followed the story of a young women named Macey, who loses her father and becomes desperate-hoping nothing unexpected comes her way again. Then she meets Jacob, a fellow student at her school, who is very organized, and has lists for everything so nothing is ever unexpected. She finds her self calm, in control, in his company.
After a year of dating she gives him an email stating that she loved him. Simple enough. He has been her boyfriend for a year after all. He writes back saying that maybe her priorities aren’t in order, and that they should take a break and talk about their relationship at the end of the summer.
Reacting to the biggest “gotcha” of all she goes into a deep depression. During that summer her mother has a house party for clients, and the catering people are so disorganized she discovers while helping them that nothing unexpected happening to them is unexpected in itself. Delia, the owner of the catering business, asks Macey to work for them. Wanting to lose her self in their chaos she agrees. After making friends with Wes, who works their too, she goes through her life’s past trauma, comes to terms with it because of her new friends, and try’s to reconcile with her mother about her fathers death. Playing a game called truth she finds out about what it means to love, and how a happy life can change the meaning of forever.
From the view point of Macey I grew and learned with her. I loved this story. I cried and laughed at this “Book of Life”. Sarah Dessen is a true artist. Heart wrenching plot lines and drama filled days and had my head spinning whenever I propped open the book and lost myself in Macey’s world.
The story’s title caught my attention, and I did indeed learn the “Truth about forever.” It helped me sort out my own life’s chaos, so I will be forever thankful. This story is more than just a story. This story is so indescribable, you’d have to read it to even understand what I’m talking (writing) about. “This book contains all the truths about life you may ever need to know”, including the “Truth about forever.”
To find out what “The Truth About Forever” actually is, you will just have to read the book!!!!!!

The Never War

The Never War
D.J. Machale
336 pages
Book Review By: Tatiana Rodriguez
The Never War by D.J. Machale is the third book in the book series Pendragon. This book has over 300 pages (336), and is an action fantasy. During this story Bobby Pendragon follows Saint Dane, an evil traveler from an unknown territory, to First Earth.
A traveler is a person chosen by those unknown, who has to keep peace on all of the territories. Each traveler has the power of persuasion, and language transformation. Any one they talk to hear their own language, while that person’s language sounds like the travelers first language to the traveller alone.
Saint Dane has powers like all the other travellers, but can transform into any living thing he wishes to be. He wants to destroy all the territories, and bring them into chaos, so he can take over all of Halla.
Halla is everything. Every time, place, or thing their ever was, and ever will be.
First Earth is one of ten territories that are all during, or in, different spaces, and times. Territories are whole worlds in different dimensions that only the travellers can travel to and from.
First Earth is during the time right before World War I. Each territory has a “turning point”, and First Earths turning point is the destruction of the Hindenburg, which leads to World War I.
The travellers travel by the flumes. The flumes are portals marked by a star. The traveller just has to say the territories name, and they are lifted off with a jumble of musical notes.
Imagine flying through the air, light as a cloud, yet surrounded by the brightest stars you ever saw! You can’t even feel the space whooshing past you; you can only watch how everything you saw a second ago disappears in a new blast of light! You’re warm and, a soft jingle of beautiful notes, not quite a melody, envelopes you, until suddenly wham (!) you’re looking at a different world.
Bobby Pendragon’s first ride was not so pleasant. Bobby Pendragon is the lead traveller. After his family disappears, at age 14 he is thrown into a world amidst in uncertainty and chaos. His Uncle Press, the one who lead him to another territory in the first place, is also a traveller. When he took Bobby into the flume Bobby was scared, but that was probably because Saint Dane had made an attempt on his life only a moment before, and the fact that he was flying through the air without a single sight of support. His Uncle Press only had enough time to fight for two territories with bobby (Denduron and Cloral), and instill a traveller’s destiny, and the rules a traveller must follow in Bobby, before being murdered unexpectedly by Saint Dane.
When Bobby follows Saint Dane to First Earth after his Uncle’s death, he’s caught in a drift of reminisce. Growing up in Connecticut on Second Earth, which is during our time, He had learned about this past before becoming a traveller and suddenly being caught up in parts of his old life shocked him, because he never expected such a grand feeling of homecoming. This fierceness of his emotions strengthens his determination to subdue, and undermine Saint Dane, and Saint Danes Plan to destroy First Earth.
As three of the ten travellers, Bobby, Gunny, and Spader, try to learn Saint Danes plan, they’re thrown into Gang fights, terrorist attacks, and two very deadly Big Boss’s plans, so to speak. The Big Boss’s are basically those whom are in charge of major masses of drug dealers, hoodlums, and murders. Trying to find out which one is responsible for First Earths turning point, the destruction of the Hindenburg, is not even as remotely safe as it seemed; Which wasn’t safe at all.
His Uncle Press’s death had toughened Bobby, and got him ready for the lead traveller’s job, or about as ready as he could get with the weight of every living thing on his hands and nearly dieing at every turn. He needs all the toughness he can get. It’s now Bobby’s job to defeat Saint Dane and save all of Halla from Armageddon. Can He stop the Hindenburg from crashing, and sending all of First Earth into chaos, or will he fail and let Saint Dane claim yet another territory.
This book is captivating, enchanting, and full of fun with mystery. D.J. Machale had me hanging on to his every word as the story unfolded. Plots full of fantasy mixed with reality gave it a realism that threw me into the book, and helped me connect with Bobby as well as if I were him.
I loved this series, and hope you will too. Though I am positive you will, at the very least, find it mysterious, fun, and as captivating as I did.

Life

This is a poem I wrote in the spur of the moment in 6th grade.

LIFE
Life is like the wind,
Coming, and going,
Never predictable.
Life is like a new born flower,
Honest,
Beautiful,
Forever fragile.
Life is like a baby bird,
Dependent,
Trusting,
Trying out its new wings.
Life is a choice,
The truth,
A lie,
To hurt,
To heal,
To try,
To regret.
Life is what you make it,
Happiness,
Sadness,
Peace,
Anger,
Love,
Hatred.
Life is like a fresh squeezed orange,
Pure, sweet, a bitter sour.
Life gives,
It takes,
It is reborn.
Life is peculiar.
I'm alive,
Others aren't
But are remembered
For their work lives on,
Their bloodline continues,
And like a new flower
In the spring
They are reborn again.

RELIEF

Summer... This single word brings many different things to mind. It brings color. The bright blues of a summer sky, and a warm lake. The vibrant yellows of the sunflowers,and the scorching sun. The hot pinks of beach balls, and flower-print bikinis . The scarlet reds of new mustangs, and newly budding begonias. The gorgeous greens of leaves on the once winter-bared trees. The deep dark browns of fresh dirt.

The thought of summer it doesn't only bring color but a number of things. It brings heat for one, but the most important thing about summer is that it brings relief. For a high school student like me right now, during Autumn, the thought of summer brings relief. Not only from the cold, but from the pressures of school life also. NO more homework, NO more detentions, and NO more getting up at 6 in the morning. The thought that summer is complete vacation is a lie though. At least for me it is. During summer I have a job at Latino family services, and I do sports on 3 different leagues. Every day I have a practice, or a game, and even though that sounds like fun, not only do I have to rush all the time, but I also have to balance work time too. During summer I can't wait until school starts again.

When I do have school it is hectic. I have a whole bunch of homework all the time; I always go to bed late because not only am I in swimming, I also do hockey, dance, and I have to be at school by 7:00 AM. In school you have to worry about friends, rumors, boys, and grades. In school you have to worry about the "right look" (I don't have enough money to find mine), and if you dress differently people tend to label you as weird, or freaky. Although I'm not proud of it, even I've thought those things, and really believed them about a few "odd" people. During school I can't wait until it's summer again .

People (myself included) do not dream, and wish for school, or summer, or anything else because they think that specific time of the year is great. They wish for these things because they want relief from pressure. The longing for a time to cast away all worries like you did as a child is a part of human nature. The longing for relief from burdens is a part of human nature. Humans shy away from pain naturally, and they (we) regard most burdens as pain. The longing for relief is a part of human nature, as much as the tendency to tell small white lies. As much as the tendency to to do what you can to fit in so as not to be ridiculed. Humans are perplex in their many and varied natures. But the most basic of them is the longing, the need, the want for relief.