Jack

My name isn't too special. It's not like it's a very popular name; but what I mean is that there's no fancy way of making it roll off your tongue. The "ck" at the end makes it sound like it's a car going full speed ahead, and then all of a sudden it slams into a brick wall and utterly stops the car in its tracks. In my opinion, it just murders the flow of the word. Despite how much I hate it, I'm actually grateful for my name. It's slang for the word "man", how much more macho and masculine could that be? How I got my name is actually a funny story. I asked my mom one day about why I was named Jack, and she simply responded, "It wasn't me, ask your sister." As it turns out, my sister was actually the one who named me. My parents were originally going to name me River, after the actor River Phoenix.  My sister was four and a half years old at the time of my birth, and she was madly in love with the movie "Titanic", starring Leonardo DiCaprio as the character Jack Dolphin. She was the one that made the final decision that my name was going to be Jack, like Jack Dolphin. Just like that. BOOM, Jack was now my name for the rest of my life, all at the doings of a 4 year old. The movie Titanic is actually one of the associations people make with my name. Whenever I tell somebody that my name is Jack, they usually ask, "Oh, like from Titanic?" I guess it's not necessarily a bad thing, Titanic was a great movie. But I'm also associated with Jack and the Beanstalk, Jack Sprat, Jack-o-lanterns, and of course the saying, "Hit the road Jack, and don't come back." Things like that actually get pretty annoying after a while, but it's something I just have to deal with. In the end, I'm happy with my name. I'm glad my parents agreed with my sister, or else I'd be named River. I can't even imagine the humility I would've face growing up with a name like that. I don't think I've ever even had another Jack in any of my schools, without counting nicknames. Even though me and my sister go through our rough times, I think I'll always be grateful for the decision that she made 15 and a half years ago; one that has probably completely changed the outcome of my life and childhood.






POETIC DEVICES:

1.) "The "ck" at the end makes it sound like it's a car going full speed ahead, and then all of a sudden it slams into a brick wall and utterly stops the car in its tracks."   

SIMILE.

2.) " much more macho and masculine" 

ALLITERATION.

3.) "BOOM"

ONOMATOPOEIA.

12 Chickens

If I could own a horse, cow, or a dozen chickens, I would choose the chickens. I would because you can eat them. Slaughter them and make a nice stew out of them. You can grill them, or fry them. If you dont want to eat the chickens themselves, you can always collect their eggs and eat their eggs, without getting rid of the chickens. Finally the last thing you can do with them is breed them. Doing this will get you even more chickens. Then you can sell them and trade them, and eventually get a horse from someone else. Choosing the chickens allows you to get all of the benefits both of the other options give you, but with more flexibility with what you want to do them. 

A Pinata's Point of View

Jimmy and his mother tore my helpless body to shreds with his mother. I was completely defense from the tiny little hands of a toddler. They started dipping me into a warm liquid substance and began to paste my body parts together in the shape of some kind of godly being. It wasn't the most detailed but I could tell I looked like some kind of cave bat, but one that has mutated into the form of a human. "What kind of sick creatures would make a voodoo doll out somebody?" I thought to myself. Finally when they were done piecing me together they let me sit in solitude in a cold, dark room. During this period I did some thinking and realized what was happening. What other fate did I have though? This is my destiny. Slowly but surely, my skin began to become tight and crisp like a potato chip. The child and its mother walked back into the room, staring me down with a harsh eye. They cut a small whole in my back and started to fill me with a bunch of treats. I was very confused. I was a voodoo doll, but they were stuffing me with filling at the same time, perhaps for some time of roast. Like before, I didn't struggle, I accepted my fate. I was never one to question one's own fate, no matter how gruesome. They started to thread a fine line through the previously made incision, sowing me up like Frankenstein, a horrible monster made up of scraps of body parts. Some kind of science experiment gone wrong. Over top of my stitches they attached loop, in which they strung another thread through; this one seemed thicker and sturdier. They brought me outside to some kind of altar, maybe to sacrifice me? I was very dazed and did not fully comprehend what was happening due to the sharp pain in my back. They tossed the thick string over top of a post coming off of the altar, maybe 10 or so feet off the ground. I was secured very tightly, to make sure I didn't try to escape. From this sky altar, I could see a bunch of little baby humans, eating their sweet party treat glazed with frosting. Is this what I was going to be? A sweet treat for a bunch of toddler? I still had a very sharp pain in my back, and it was getting worse every second. The mother human walked over to me, not noticing the pain in my eyes. She called over her young and gave them each a war club and some kind of visor that impaired their vision. I don't understand why they would handicap themselves for a battle when they are all so very young. The first child steps up, swinging blindly into the area around me. He scored a tiny hit, but nothing to to brag about. I received a small dent in my side. Three more children stepped up and did the same thing. Finally they brought out their champion, who you could tell ate too much at the previous activity. He wound up his arms, and swung with such brutal force that nothing could stop the force. He made contact with me, and I was pulverized into a bunch of little pieces. I was scattered all over the land, my fillings were spilling out everywhere. In a huge rush, all of the children ran over to my insides, picking them up and stuffing their faces with me. Is this what my life had come to? To become nothing more than just a mere snack for overly spoiled children? My real question was, how could something so cute and harmless, be so barbaric and gruesome to something as innocent as me? What did I do to deserve that?

TIME STAMP: 11:57