Stories From Life

These are just stories made by me, that I would like to share!!! Some are funny, some are sad. Feel free to share your own stories!!!

The Pencil

I have a scar on my forehead. Not from falling, or hitting my head, but from a pencil. One day at Kindergarten, me and my "friend", Jacob, were drawing pictures for our stories that we made. Jacob suddenly looked at my paper and asked, "Can you teach me to draw a tree like you do?" I s Dared I'd yes, and went on to teach him. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in my forehead, and blood was flowing from the 'wound'. I started crying, and our teacher came over to us. "What happened?!" She asked frantically. We were drawing attention. "He stabbed me with his pencil!" I cried. It was true, he had. "Why?!" Our teacher turned to Jacob. And you know what he said? "'Cause she draws better trees than me." I still have the scar.

Uncle Mac (Sad)

One morning, me and my sister were visiting my Great-Grandmother's home. I could not sleep, so I fell asleep on the couch in the Den. Early in the morning, my Great-grandmother got a call from my Great-Aunt Mary. "I can't wake Mac up!" Aunt Mary yelled into the phone. Our Great-grandmother woke us up and we all got into the car in our pajamas. My Great-Uncle (Mac) was diabetic, so we thought he was just in a diabetic coma. (That is when a person that has diabetes's blood sugar goes too low) We tried to wake him up with no success. So our Grandma called 911. They came, and proclaimed he was dead. My Great-Grandmother started crying. "Oh, Mac!" She cried. "You were so young!" He was, in fact, 59. She was his mother. Think about it. Think about how sad you would be if you outlived your own son. So he was carried away in a basket, and the funeral was that next Saturday. RIP Glenn Jr.

Pickles

It was an extremely hot Saturday, and I came home from softball practice. I walked through the door, and saw all of our other cat, Kitty's, stuff on the floor. I then looked around, confused, and saw there was a tiny, beautiful kittin lying on the floor. I burst into tears. She was amazing! She had black and white fur, and eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of our house. "What do you want to name her?" My mom said. "Pickles!" I shouted, and more tears came out of my eyes. Mom started laughing. "I thought you were going to name her Oreo. That is why I got a black and white one." We all laughed, and Pickles let out a meow. Mom then told the story of how she got her. My dad helped tell the story. "So, I was walking into Walmart," she started, "And I noticed that there was a man giving out cats for free in the parking lot. So I talked to him, and he gave me one. He told me that his cat had kittens, and he couldn't keep them all. So he was giving them out, and the ones that didn't give out were... well... you know." We all nodded. I love Pickles, and I hope all of her sisters/brothers found a loving home.

Do you have a story to tell? Tell it!!!!