The titles really long so it will be in the story. by VampireMaiden

Story That I Do Not Know the Name of Right Now, But Once I Think of Something Good, I’ll Definitely Put the New Title Here

(That's the REAL title)

I have really nothing to say right now. Nothing that I can think of. I guess I’m supposed to be telling you a story. A story about…whatever my Reading/L.A. teacher says I should create. About my life, friends, family, a funny story, fiction, fantasy, anything really. It has to be really good apparently, because it’s our second to last story of the year. We are supposed to be keeping Sentence Fluency in mind. I am. I’m keeping it in mind as much as possible. Sentence Fluency, Sentence Fluency, Sentence Fluency, Sentence Fluency…see, I’m trying, but nothing really comes to my mind at the moment. My brain is officially fried. Okay, time for summer. Let’s get out of here!!! But sadly, it’s only the first of May, still a whole month plus eight days left until freedom from this prison of learning! That’s probably a little over reactive. School isn’t that bad. I mean, I don’t hate all the subjects. Like this class. Reading/L.A. is cool, and Science, Social Studies. Lunch. Lunch is good, too. Recess, a great “class”. I’ll miss it, so, the period of recess. In high school, we won’t get recess, but I think we do get SRT, which is like study hall, but my brother says he gets to go around the school when he doesn’t have anything. Then there are the ten minute passing periods, which, if the class is really close, you could spend chatting and catching up with friends, hiding from enemies. High school seems awesome, so many perks and advantages, but you know, I’d really like to have a sole hour dedicated to nap time, like back in pre school. Not kindergarten. Was there nap time in kindergarten? I don’t think so. I went to a “Classical School”, whatever that is, Decatur Classical School, placed in Evanston by Chicago, where I basically grew up for the first 7 years of my life. Half of it, actually. That school was annoying. We were kindergarteners working at a 2nd grade level. That’s the school. Smart School. My teacher, Ms. Latteu, or was it Mrs.……? I don’t remember, but she was mean. To everyone. Yell at them if our stories were short or we spelled something wrong, or said, “one hundred four” instead of “one hundred and four”, which she said was the correct way. I remember this time, when my friends and I were eating lunch, we had chicken nuggets –and at this time, I was not a vegetarian –and we decided to have a, “let’s see who can eat the biggest piece” contest. Well, people stared tearing off chunks and swallowing whole, going bigger and bigger. Being the dork that I am, I claimed that I could swallow the whole thing. The group’s eyes widened at my claim and challenged me to do it. I grabbed a nugget and shoved it in my mouth, I gulped it down, but my eyes grew wide when it stopped, in the middle of my throat. My hands clasped around my neck and I started to throw up a little, parts that were coming apart in my throat. The group gave a disgusted look and I ran to my teacher at her desk. I couldn’t talk; gasps were all that came out. Ms. / Mrs. Latteu gave me a quizzical look and then changed into her normal, grumpy old self. She asked me, “What are you doing? What’s wrong with you?” I started rolling around on the floor. “Get off the floor! What’s wrong with you?” she demanded. Finally the light bulb flicked on and she gasped, “Oh my lord, you’re choking!” she yanked me off the floor, pulled me out the room and called for help. Some teacher, my brothers, whom he hated, came and gave me the Heimlich thingy and chicken shot out of my sore throat. As if Ms. / Mrs. Latteu couldn’t do it herself. I was brought back into the class and the kids were laughing pretending to throw up and stuff. She sat me next to a boy named Ben, who I was currently fond of. He started laughing and pretending to choke and barf. I didn’t like Ben anymore. Well, I guess that’s my rant about my evil teacher Ms. / Mrs. Latteu. I feared, after I left Chicago, that all teachers would be rude and horrible. Then I met my amazing, wonderful, kind 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Kamp. She was my favorite teacher, she even gave her baby the middle name of Kayla –not the correct spelling, but whatever –and until I got to 4th grade where Ms. Arnold bumped her out of my favorite spot. Then 5th grade cam around and Mrs. Annes booted my last favorite far out of her spot. She stayed my favorite until 7th grade where Mrs. Gilliam took the spot. She was great. But now it’s 8th grade, so close to the end, but yet so far…and the spot of my favorite teacher has been stolen by Mrs. Olesuk (and I’m not just saying, that, just so you know, Mrs. Olesuk) and she is great (I’m not just saying that either) and helps me with all of my stories, even if they are 13 pages long and I make her read it all and she teases me about my “novels” that I make her read. Hey, it’s not my fault. Once I start going, I can’t seem to stop. But I never go above 15 pages, if I have more to say, I’ll wrap it up and make it ‘Part One’ then the next piece I will make a ‘Part Two’. It works out, and I think my stories are pretty good. I don’t know. People say that they are, but they’re probably just being nice. But people are nice all the time, right? Yeah, they just do kind things. Someone sneezes, you say “Bless you” or “God bless you” or “Gesundheit” (Mrs. Olesuk told me how to spell that one) and that’s nice, but I guess saying “Bless you” or one of the others I listed is just voluntary now. Someone sneezes and I just say “Bless you” without really thinking. So I Guess that’s not really nice per say. What ever. Nice is picking up the book or pencil or folder or cup or anything else someone dropped. Nice is volunteering to pick something up or drive someone somewhere or write something down or do some part of a project or take out some part of the garbage or something else others don’t really want to do. Those are nice things. Yeah, nice things are nice. I guess I shouldn’t repeat that word twice in the sentence. I guess nice doesn’t describe nice. Hold on, I’m looking up a synonym for nice. With Word Spelling and Grammar Check. Nice. Here are some results. Pleasant. Good. Kind. Polite. Fine. Finicky. Wait...what the heck is this? Finicky? What? What the heck is finicky? I’ll synonym finicky. Okay, finicky Results: Fastidious. Fussy. Picky. Choosy. Pernickety. Wait...what’s pernickety? What the heck? Results: Difficult to please. Fussy. Particular. Choosy. Funny. Exacting. Okay, some of these words, I’ve never heard before. Weird. Jeeze. The first time I typed weird, I spelled it wrong. The first time — ever — I tried to write the word “weird”, it annoyed me. Wireerd, weerd, weeird, weired, weeired, weered, wireered. But it was simply. Weird, yeah? You know, I hate words that are spelled nothing like they sound. It’s annoying, so I spell it wrong and then teachers are like, “You spelled it completely wrong, idiot.” Well, they would call me an idiot, but that’s how I feel. Sophisticated. It should be spelled sofistikayted if you wanted to spell it how it sounds. February really should be febyouairy. Cause that’s how it sound, yeah? It’s just confusing to make things spell different that what they sound like. The “ffff” sound should just be an “F”. Not shared by the “Ph”. It’s just confusing. So do I spell it “Fish” or “Phish?” It really doesn’t make too much sense to me. And by the way, who decided to name that creature a fish, hm? Who decided to name anything anything? I mean, A tree, you know, that big brown thing with a huge green top? That could potentially been a television. We could be saying, “Mom! Can I climb the television?” or “Let’s build a televisionhouse!” or “The Oak Television was brought here by the East European settlers in 1830.” (That time and the people may be entirely wrong; I’m just making something up) It doesn’t even have to be words already made. A book could have been a ghsksigkj. “For homework today, you have to read pages 23-25 in the ghsksigkj.” Or “ We need to return the ghsksigkj to the library today.” (Of course some of the other words may be like that so a whole sentence could be “Djerjsitr asekrfslekt sitlier owkwm sf aee diwnqkw?” So I’m saying, it could have been completely different. But, who decided to name the things? Who picked the names and why? Is there some significance to them? It’s just odd. And some people claim, “Hey, people didn’t name them. God did. Haven’t you read the bible? It says ‘In the beginning, God created the heaven and earth.’ And then something like ‘God created water and land’ or something like that, so God already named all the stuff, not people.” If anyone tells that to me, I would kick them, but since I don’t know where this is going (i