Lauren Grossman's Short Story - The Giraffe

The Giraffe

By: Lauren Grossman

I once asked if I could go to the park. My mom said I could go. So, she took me to the park. There was a girl there who held a pet giraffe. I really like giraffes because they are tall, different, and I don’t know, I guess I just love them. I went over to the girl and said hi. She sai hi, then walked away. I ran towards her again and asked her what her name was. She said she wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers. Then again, I came over and told her I liked her stuffed giraffe. She smiled a little, then went away, again! I asked her if I could have it, and she said no and she ran away to her mom, apparently telling on me. I decided to go to my mom (on the safe side). Her mom came over and talked to my mom. I had to apologize to the girl. All I wanted was that giraffe. Now my mom won’t let me go to the park again because she thinks I’ll talk to some stranger, wanting to steal their belongings. I asked my mom if I could get another stuffed giraffe. She said I have too many stuffed animals. Now I can’t go to the park and I’m giraffe-less; if that’s a word.

You see, the only reason I wanted to go to the park was because of my Daddy. He’s not alive because he died for a heart attack. [My mom said that he needed to take care of himself]. It was scary, I saw him have the heart attack with my own eyes. Still can’t get the image out of my head. Anyways, my Daddy would take me to the park and we would play on the sides and swings. My Daddy was very tall, and when I’d be on the top of the slide, my Daddy would say, “You’re as tall as a giraffe.” He’d always say that, every time when we would go the the park. So for some reason, I always liked giraffes since. And still do. My Daddy’s job was one of those traveling jobs, and every time he would come back, he’d give me a different giraffe, each time. And I’d put it in my big collection of giraffes in my room. It began to spread! So when I saw a girl with that giraffe, it was a giraffe I never had or seen, so I wanted it to add to my collection. Because now Daddy will never give me a giraffe. Mom doesn’t give me a giraffe. We don’t have that special relationship Daddy and I have...well had. So I have no park, no giraffe, and no Daddy.

Writer's Statement-I wrote this short story in December. I have a lot of unfinished writings, and I know I promised Part II of other story's, but this has been needing a better ending for awhile. So here it is! This took awhile to get to, because I wanted a better ending. At first, it was just the one paragraph, I strongly disliked it, but I took my creativity and knowledge, and all the kinds of writings I write about, and I put it in this short story. (I once wrote a monologue about a girl who's Dad died from cancer and she is talking to him in heaven) So, sorry if my writings are the same sometimes. But most of my pieces come out good! So, I have spring break, and summer soon to work on my writings. That is all! (:

Lauren Grossman's Fictional Story - In or Out

In or Out

By: Lauren Grossman

I met her voice before I met her eyes. I got a little chill running through my spine. It was soft, and very smooth. It sounded like a beautiful waterfall. I wanted to meet her, so as I walked through the doorway, I saw her. And my eyes were shocked, not knowing that this girl was blind, because she had a cane in a hand, squinting her eyes.

I never really knew anyone blind. Right away a thought came to my head, and that she’s blind, so why would I want to be with her? I was just in very deep thought as this mysterious girl I did not know bumping towards me.

“Sorry!” Said the girl. “Didn’t realize you were right there.”
“It’s..okay.” I said. “You didn’t see me.” That was so stupid of me. The girl kind of blushed.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that, I mean even if you could see, you still didn’t “see” me. I didn’t see you, like “see” you. I was just in deep thought.” I sounded like a complete idiot. I didn’t mean to be rude to this girl, I just didn’t want to ask her out anymore.
“It’s okay. I knew what you meant. Trust me, even if you did mean it, I get people making fun of me waaayyy worse.”
“That stinks.” My voice kind of got high-pitched. For some reason I still got that chill and feeling in my stomach hearing her voice. It was just so...beautiful. I cleared my voice, trying to not look like a fool I already was becoming at this moment.
“Yeah, oh well. I been blind since I was born, and it’s difficult, but I just got to get use to it, ya know? My parents worked so hard for me to get an education and such. Yeah, I get made fun of, but I ignore them and all. Being blind has its disadvantages. If I could get my sight back, I would. But I’m different. And I’m 15, and half my life I been treated not very good. That’s 7 and a half. I can go on more.”
“Yeah, ‘cause 7 and a half is a lot of years.” I had nothing else better to say.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked.
“J-Jacob,” I responded. My face felt like it was beaming up.
“I’m Gabriella.”
“Nice to meet you”
“You too. Your voice sounds adorable. I’m sure you’re cute too.”
My cheeks became even redder, if that was possible. But I needed to get some air out of the school, or I was going to faint, or something.
“Ha, uh, thanks. You’re really pretty you know. I’m not just saying that.”
“Thanks. Usually people say seeing me with weird eyes and a stick is what catches their attention.”
“Actually,” I said. “Your voice did. It kind of gave me a call, ya know?
“My voice, really? Well, that’s a first. You’re so sweet, Jacob.”

The bell rung and Gabriella and I just stood on the checkered floor, facing each other. It was just awkward silence.

“Um, Gabriella,” I said. “Want to go outside, have a little walk?” My voice sounded weak, but that was because I was only nervous. Gabriella seemed so nice, and I judged her because of the outside of her.
“Sure, I’d like that.” She replied.
“Need help walking?” I asked.
“No, that’s okay. I know how to walk. This cane saves my life, thanks though.”

Gabriella walked a bit slow, and I was walking the same pace as her. But it was okay. It was fun talking to her. Her voice just kept giving me a feeling, a feeling I liked, enjoyed. I was glad meeting Gabriella, and I learned a lot, not to judge people on the outside. It’s horrible that for 15 years what her and her family had to go through.

We decided to go to the hangout that is across the street. I helped her walk across the street, but then something happened.

It was a red light, so it was our turn to walk. But some driver was speeding, and ran through the red light. I saw it, and I tried grabbing Gabriella, and I shouted, “Gabriella, move!” I tried getting her, but she couldn’t see, she thought I was just playing around. Gabriella got hit by the speed driver. I got hit too, but not as bad. I moved, and crawled towards Gabriella, wincing a little in pain.

“Gabriella! Gabriella!” I tried getting her up. But she was out of it. “Someone call 911!”
A lot of cars had stopped, and I was holding Gabriella, trying to not think she was dead. Some woman wearing a flowery dress took out her phone and called the ambulance. The police was here in a flash.

They gently picked Gabriella up. I was still on the street on my knees, kind of sore. I was close to crying, and one of the guys from the ambulance came over to me and helped me up. He helped me walk to the ambulance, and we were on the way to the hospital, with unconscious Gabriella and sore and scared me. I thought the inside mattered, and it does, but now the outside does because Gabriella is probably sore and possibly dead, and I’m all bruised. I was shaky, nervous, scared, and sore as unconscious Gabriella and I were as we were on the way to the ambulance.

Writer's Statement: I am kind of liking this piece I wrote! At first, I made it so happy, and end not very good, but I put a twist and suspense into it. I will not write the next part until next time. I think that the twist made it better, and made my writing stronger! Next writings coming up: Part 2 of Blue, Blue, Everywhere and Part 2 of In or Out (this story) (: Enjoy!

 It's true, I do! <--- Made this bracelet myself! ~Cr8ive Gal (:

Lauren Grossman's Fairy Tale - Prescott and the Key

  Prescott and the Key 

By: Lauren Grossman

There was a 16 year old teenager, named Princess. She would always date these guys who were just not...good. Some had piercings and tattoos. Some just wanted her for sex. Some boys Princess really liked but then got cheated on. Princess just didn’t seem to have the best experience with guys. Her father and mother, Mr. Kenneth King, and Mrs. Jean King, wanted her to not be hurt anymore, to find a real guy. It was a family tradition to get married at the age of 16. That’s how long Mr. and Mrs. Kind knew each other, since they were 16.

    The problem was that it was very hard to find ‘good guys.’ There was one though, who caught Princess’s eyes just like that. It all began at the knock at the door. Mrs. King  answered the door.
    “Hello. I was wondering if you’d like to make a donation to the Homeless Center?, asked the young gentlemen. He was wearing an old blue shirt, with ripped up jeans.
    “No thanks, we have other things to pay for, like a roof over a house,” said Mrs. King
    “It’s for a very good cause.”
    Princess was looking at the boy, behind her mom. There was something about him Princess was curious about.
    “Do you think I was born yesterday?” asked Mrs. King. “I know all these people come looking homeless so they can just get their own money. I am sure you ripped up those jeans and put some dirt on those clothes. Good-bye,” Mrs. King said, closing the door.
    Mrs. King walked away. Princess got up real quick and opened the door.
    “Wait, excuse me, wait!” she shouted.
    The boy turned around, and saw this blonde girl, with bright blue eyes, and a smile that make him smile.
    “Come back please?”
    The boy shyly came over.
    “Are you okay?” Princess asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Here.” Princess went into her dress pocket and pulled out some money. “Here, have some money.” She dropped it into the donation box and gave a smile.
    “Thank you very much.”
    “Can I ask you something?”
    “Sure, but its got to be quick, I need more donations.”
    “Are you...homeless?”
    “Yes. Not just coming her to scan people for money.”
    “Oh, I know that! Don’t mind my mother, she’s a bit rude.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “My name is Prescott.”
    “Prescott. That’s a cool name. I like that name. I’m Princess.”
    “Thanks, that’s a pretty name. You kinda look like a princess.’
    Princess blushed.
    “Where are you staying at?”
    “A few blocks down. I hate it there, all the people are rude and whatnot. I wish I could have a home.”
    “I am very sorry. I know it isn’t the same, but I hate it here too. My mom keeps me trapped in the house so I don’t go out meeting boys. My mom is to strict.”
    “I rather have a strict mom and be in a home.”
    “Yeah, I know, sorry. I am sure it’s awful what you’re going through.”
    “It is, plus, I don’t talk to a lot of people. I’m very shy.”
    “You don’t seem shy to me.” That made Prescott smile. “I should be going. It was nice meeting you Princess.”
    “It was nice meeting you too, Prescott. Can I maybe see you again?”
    “I would like that.” Prescott started walking off, but then Princess watched him. She couldn’t take seeing him homeless.
    “Wait, Prescott!”
    “Yes, Princess?”
    “Would you live in a house if you had one?”
    “If is a strong word. ‘Cause I know it’s not going to happen.”
    “But what if you could get a home?”
    “I’d be happy, which I’m usually not. I kind of found out what happy is now.” They both smiled and Prescott walked off.
    Princess closed the door, when Mrs. King came in.
    “Who were you just talking to?” asked Mrs. King, very strictly.
    “No one Mother. I have a question. We have an extra room upstairs, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “So Mother, can we give it to a friend of mine? Please?”
    “No! Not at all!”
    “But Mother! He-
    “He, not at all! You already had too many boyfriends.”
    “But this one is nice!”
    “You said that last time.”
    “Mother, I am not asking you because I want to sleep with him or anything. He is homeless. He needs a home. He doesn’t know what being happy really feels like.”
    “Homeless, is this the young gentlemen who knocked on our door?”
    “Yes-”
    “No filthy man is coming in our house.”
    “Mother, why? Why are you so protective of me? I’m 16! He’s so nice Mother! Why didn’t you give him money, when we are wealthy, very wealthy? Look at this house, it’s all wealthy! He needs someone!”
    “He was really homeless?”
    “Yes Mother.”
    “But he has a home.”
    “Yeah, I am sure a home that smells and wreaks, a home that he can’t really talk to, a home with cold water when he needs warm, and warm water when he needs cold. Mother, would you like living like that?”
    “No Princess.”
    “Mother, I’ll be fine. Just for a little please? You never want me happy! Never! I am just locked up here doing nothing. I have no friends!”
    “I do try making you happy!”
    “No you don’t Mother! If you did, you would let me out of this house and face reality. Reality here feels all clogged up.”
    “Alright, he can stay.”
    Princess jumped in the air and was very excited.
    “On one condition,” said Mrs. King. That made Princess stop jumping and look confused.
    “What condition? Why does there have to be a condition?” Princess asked.
    “You seem to like this boy, and I am letting him into my home. He will sleep in the guess room with over 5 mattresses. I will be putting a key under there. If he knows the key is under there, then I accept.”
    “Mother!” Princess cried. “That is impossible! Please! Why even a key?”
    “Because you seem to like this boy, and if he can win your heart, he will notice the key and lock up your heart. It’s either that or not stay at all.”
    “Okay, Mother. We will do the test.”
    “Okay, you have permission tomorrow morning to go to the Homeless Center to invite him. But keep it quiet, we don’t want a bunch of kids coming in our home. And don’t tell him about the key, got it?”
    “Yes, Mother. Thank you, Mother.”
    Mrs. King walked out of the living room and Princess plopped down kind of excited, but then kind of nervous.
    It was the next morning. Princess was very excited to see Prescott again. She got ready in her pink outfit with jeans and she then went and walked into the Homeless Center. She went to the front to find Prescott.
    “Excuse me, is there a Prescott here?” Princess asked.
    “Yes, honey, he is right over there,” The front lady said, pointing to where Prescott was located.
    “Thank you, Ma’am.” Princess walked over to a table where Prescott was by himself.
    “Prescott!” Princess shouted.
    Prescott turned around, little surprised to hear his name, and then he saw Princess.
    “Princess?” He asked, curiously. “What are you doing here?”
    “I came to ask you a question. I was wondering if you wanted to move in to my house?”
    “Your house?” He was very surprised.
    “Yes.”
    “Why would you ask me.”
    “Because Prescott, you’re my friend. You seem sad, alone, and I don’t want to see you like that. Please, can you move into my house?”
    “That’s very generous of you...but I don’t know. I don’t know you that well. I’m kind of scared of your mother.
    “But we will get to know each other and become good friends! Don’t mind my mother, she said it was okay, on one condition.”
    “What condition?”
    “I’ll show you when I get there, please?”
    “Okay, but your mom has to talk to-”
    “My mom already called this morning and you’re able to come with me, if it was up to you.”
    Prescott gave a little smile.

“Okay, I think I will come.”

    “Great!” Princess was excited and she took his hand so he could follow her direction.”   
    “Wait,” Prescott said. I forgot my stuff.” Prescott went back to the table he was at and gathered his stuff.
    “We’ll get you clothes and food, stuff like that.”
    “Okay, but my magic stuff.”
    “You do magic?”
    “Yeah..”
    “That’s...awesome!” Princess and Prescott left the Homeless Center with a smile on their faces.
    Prescott was having a great time at the King’s house. Princess and him played games on phone, they played games on the computer, talked, and Princess learned things about Prescott. Prescott even showed her a few magic tricks, which Princess was impressed by.
    Princess was in the guess room, helping Prescott get ready for bed. As they were getting ready, they were having a conversation.
    “You went to Disney World? That’s so cool! I always wanted to go there!” Prescott said.
    “Yeah, it’s really fun. You never went there? It’s a kid’s dreams! We’ll have to go sometime!” Princess said, smiling.   
    “But what if I don’t pass the test?”
    “Relax, I think my mom is crazy, but not that crazy, you’ll pass is.”
    Prescott smiled, “Thanks.”
    Mr. King and Mrs. King came with 2 more mattresses and a blanket.
    “Alright, we will pile these on top of each other, and Prescott, dear, you will sleep on these. Here is a blanket as well,” said Mrs. King.
    “Thank you, Ma’am,” Prescott said, with a little fear. “May I have a drink of water, please?”
    “I’ll get it for you, son,” Mr. King said, politely and they both left the room.
    Mrs. King took the key out of her pocket, placing it under the mattresses, so it was under the last one that was placed on the bottom.
    Prescott came back.
    “Alright Princess and Prescott, time for bed.”
    Princess said good night to Prescott, went to her own room, and they both went to bed.
    It was the next morning, and Prescott came running down the banister.
    “There is something under my mattresses!”
    “What?” asked Princess, following him, rubbing her eyes from waking up.
    “There is a key under my mattress, I knew there was something odd with it! But I knew it was a key. I’ve done magic tricks, a bunch, and it’s a key!”
    “Oh, Prescott! You passed the test!” Princess said, very happy. They both hugged.
    Prescott got to stay with the King’s family. After awhile, Prescott started dating Princess. Mrs. King let them stay together because he won the key to her heart. They very much liked each other, and if it wasn’t for Princess, Prescott’s life wouldn’t of been better as it is. Mr. and Mrs. King didn’t like a lot of boys Princess dated, but they liked this one and accepted them to get married. And they all lived happily, ever after.

The End

 Writer's Statement- I wrote this fairy tale based on the fairy tale, The Princess and the Pea. I changed it up and it came out very different, and a good story. I am impressed with what I have came up with, and excited for all you readers to...well read! I put a lot of creativity into this, and my writing is getting stronger. Writing a fairy-tale is tricky, but it works out! Also, I got this idea by going through old books, and found this. Memories! So this story was born, and it came out great! (:

Lauren Grossman's Story - Blue, Blue, Everywhere

Blue, Blue, Everywhere

By: Lauren Grossman

Blueville, a small town for people who are just...sad. The color blue, means sad, right? Well everything in Blueville is...blue. The walls are blue, the floors are blue, the cars are blue, you name it, it’s blue. Well, of course the sky was already blue. Anyways, people would come to this town whenever they are sad. If you’re sad, why not be sad together?  People would come from different parts of the state.

You’re probably asking, what do you do in Blueville? Basically, whatever you’re sad about, you try to fix it. For example, there was this one woman, Joan. Joan was sad because her boyfriend broke up with her. So Joan came here. What Joan did was get a dummy (that Blueville has available in the store, called Break-Up) and she pretended it was her ex-boyfriend. She took out all her anger out on this dummy, and felt better. As soon as she did, she had to hurry to get out of Blueville, because the walls of blue and just everything being blue, can make you sad.

Surprisingly, there is a president of Blueville. His name is Barney Benson. Mr. Benson decided to run for president in Blueville because he was very depressed for many, many years. He lost his wife due to breast cancer, and then he lost his 6 year old son, in a car accident, because Mr. Benson looked away just for a second, and the 6 year old went on into the street on his own. Mr. Benson was just so sad, he lost important people to him who he loved. Mr. Benson didn’t want others to feel the pain he did, so he tried hiring assistants to make people feel better. Mr. Benson created stores. As we said, there is the Break-Up store. There is the Ex-Friend store, Lost store, Failing store (which helps people who failed their test get better on their test) and a lot more.

I went to Blueville because I failed a test, that I worked so hard on. The teacher just doesn’t like me. He singles me out in front of everyone. That made me upset. My parents didn’t think Blueville was a good idea because they’ve looked it up online and there were not so good things about it. I was upset. Failing wasn’t something that I didn’t call for. I called for getting A’s. If I fail one test, I will fail them all! My parents were afraid I would be sad all the time. But I needed to be in a space with sad people, and I was curious what would happen. My parents finally said yes. They didn’t want to go with me, because then they would be sad. My cousin, who is very sad due to her not being accepted to colleges, came with me. So we went together. We borrowed my dad’s car, because it was blue, so we wouldn’t look weird or anything. (Yeah, I know, going into a town that everything is blue isn’t sad). We were in the parking lot, ready to enter for a few days. So I turned the knob of the blue door and stepped in.


Writer's Statement:
This was a writing exercise I got from my writing teacher. I had to use 'I turned the knob of the blue door and stepped in,' at the last sentence of my story. So, I did something different in my writing. I did something that wasn't true, and shaped it into a story. I enjoyed writing this. Think, what if there really was something like this? My imagination grows stronger, and helps me in my writings. I am writing a fairy tale now (which will be posted later) and writing differently helps you. Writing different kind of creative stories and such, makes writing helpful, stronger, and so much more fun!(:

Lauren Grossman's Point of View 2 Story - Tug-of-War

Tug-of-War

By: Lauren Grossman

Dear Mom and Dad,

We always had those great mother and father moments. We would play catch. Then as I got older, we would do my homework together. As I got older, we would go to the mall. As I got older, we didn’t hang much, as I was with my friends. As I got older, we would go to the store and by pads and bras. We had the typical family life.

I found it suspicious as I got older why you guys had reddish hair, and I had blonde hair. I wondered why your arms and faces were spotted with freckles, where in my case, I had maybe 2 on my arm. I looked nothing like you. I decided though not to question it. I had great relationship with you guys, You were like my best friends...until...
You not telling me my whole life was a lie. How could you guys not tell me? You thought I would never know, did you? Well I needed my birth certificate for a school project. I was looking and looking. I figured maybe the attic had it. I found the birth certificate in a box. But it didn’t say “John and Becca Daniels” were my parents. It had “Francis and Joan Peterson” as my parents. Who the heck were those people? I thought we were best friends, and you guys would tell me anything? I wasn’t born from someone who taught me how to walk or use the toilet. I was born from a bunch of strangers.
I am writing this to say goodbye. I feel as if my whole life isn’t me. If I was with my real mom and dad, who knows if I would of been with the friends I am with now. I thought the moments we shared were special, now they’re just a bunch of lies.
I thought I loved you, but now I don’t know. I guess I do, because you raised me my whole life. I mean, you done everything. I had the best life and so much fun. Now I don’t know whether to change my hair or change my clothes, or change everything about me. I mean, you are like parents to me, but it’s not the same feeling when you’re not with the people who gave birth to you. I feel like I have to pick a side, like a game of tug-of-war. Well now I have too soo which side I can pull harder on. Well, I have everything packed. Time to find myself.


Love, no scratch that, Sincerely,
Jess (I should say Jessica because you called me Jess) So Sincerely,
Jessica

Dear M-m-om and D-d-ad,

H-hi. Um, yeah, this is your daughter, Jessica Florence Peterson. I was, adopt-adopted. I had a great life, ya know? I wish I could meet you. I, I feel as now I don’t know who I am. I’m coming to search for you. I’m in a taxi cab now, writing this to you. But let me tell you something:...

Thanks. Thanks for everything. We never had those moments. We never had those times where I would fall, and you’d pick me up. We never had those moments where I could just cry in your arms until I was out of tears. We never had those moments where you actually said everything was going to be okay. We never had those fun times, and the hard ones that will get better because we have each other. But no. I just sent a letter messaging my adopted parents good-bye, because I’m hurt and frustrated by you. I don’t know what the reason was why you gave me for adoption, but I’m 17. It’s been 17 years and I’m ready for the whole story and truth.

I shouldn’t put my anger on my adopted parents, but I did. They saved me. They gave me a life. They were happy to have a daughter. Was I a mistake, you didn’t want to get pregnant? Well I think not being with you guys wasn’t a mistake. I am so hurt and confused, not sure who to go to. But I am on my way to talk to you guys, and get this straightened out. After I see who I really am, I am going back to my adopted parents, because they gave me a beautiful life. Yeah, sure, it was a big lie. They were protecting me from the truth, probably because THEY KNOW ME; THAT I WOULD BE THIS UPSET AT YOU AND THEY WOULDN’T WANT ME UPSET RIGHT NOW. I feel like I am playing in the middle of  a game of tug-of-war, not sure what side to got to. As hard as I pull, I am not getting to the side I want. But here I am getting to that side to find out what I missed my whole life. I’m going to try. So, I am on my way. Don't even know who I am sending this letter to. Goodbye.

Love, NO not love, From,

Jess (what my adopted parents called me)