Yes Ma'am

Yes ma’am

By Andrea Basile

Authors Note: I’m going to talk about why in the story “Yes Ma’am” I think that Rogers learned his lesson on not to steal.         

In the captivating story “Yes Ma’am” by Langston Hues Rogers, the main character in the story, learns a lesson from a strict lady named Mrs. Jones. I believe Rogers learned his lesson of not to steal.

One of the reasons I believe Rogers learned his lesson because he was awed at how the Mrs. Jones reacted. She was harsh but nice at the same time. He was so scared that he would obey anything she said. He was struck with horror as she grabbed him and kicked him in the “sitter.” Her reaction to him trying to steal her purse is the only reason why he went to her home willingly.

Since Rogers was doing everything Mrs. Jones said, he started to see what a good person she was, she fed him food ad didn’t ask questions about where he lived or who his parents were. She also told him to clean his face and wash up for dinner. He learned some manners and when Mrs. Jones said “You don’t need to go stealing purses to get some shoes. You could have just asked.” I think when she said that that REALLY changed Rogers into not stealing. I also believe that when she said this, he might have thought about how wrong it was to try to steal her purse, and instead he might be thinking of another way to get money…like maybe getting a job.

To wrap things up I just really think that Rogers was changed by this experience. If it was another woman he tried to steal from, I bet that lady wouldn’t have reacted the same as Mrs. Jones. Therefore him stealing from Mrs. Jones changed his life probably forever!

Money Gone

Money Gone

By Andrea Basile

I froze, checking my pockets. Where was the money? Panic rose up deep within me, blossoming through me like a poisoned flower. Bile came into my mouth. I checked once more, just to be sure. Looking through my pockets, all I found was a scrap piece of paper, a gum wrapper, and a paper clip. I sighed. Two words kept circling my brain over and over again, blocking every other thought. I’m dead. Suddenly everything around me starts spinning; I stagger and reach out to grab the garbage can to keep me standing. I squeeze my eyes shut for a couple minutes, then open them again. My surroundings aren’t spinning anymore.  I’m in an alley. It’s past midnight and I was supposed to deliver 10,000 dollars to a man that has been keeping my mom captured for the past two months. The 10,000 dollars would have saved my mom’s life and gotten her back to me….the same 10,000 dollars that was lost.

Two Months Earlier

“Mom! I’m gonna be late for school again! Can’t you ever hurry up!”

“I’m sorry hunny, I’ll be right down!” It was a bright sunny day in late April and I was standing at the bottom of our carpeted stairs. My heels were clicking on the ground ticking away the time. I already ate breakfast, got my makeup done, turned off the t.v, and got dressed. And my mother can’t even be ready when I actually have to leave for school.

“Whatever, I’ll be in the car.” I growled, grabbing the keys and heading to the car.

As soon as I got in our red Audi, I heard a thump. I just thought it was nothing so I just started humming to “I’m sexy and I know it” by LMFAO. Another slow 5 minutes passed by and I’ve had enough. I swing the car door violently open and stomp inside our house.

“MOM!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I’m never this worried about getting to school early...to be honest I actually don’t like school. But today is the day that Griffin Smith, the most handsome and popular guy at school, is going to ask me out at my locker. Before first hour. My mom doesn’t reply. Just then I realize how quite it is.

“Mom?” I asked hesitantly. I slowly started walking up stairs, my heels being the only sound in the house. I reached my mom’s room and the door was closed. I slowly opened it, picturing the main song in “Jaws” playing. The door creaked and opened. Inside everything was a complete mess. There were drawers open, as though someone had been looking for something. Clothes were thrown all across the room. The bed covers were all on the ground, and there was a broken glass on the ground as well. There. In front of the bed. There was a stain, a stain that looked a little like dark coffee. It was in front of the bed. Only it was different, it was a redish liquid, and there was a trail of it that led to the bathroom.  My heart stopped. I’ve seen this in horror movies…it was blood. Without knowing what I was doing my legs magically started moving towards the bathroom. I was barely breathing, and my heart was thumping so hard in my chest I thought I was going to explode. I place my hand on the bathroom door, bracing myself for what I was about to see. I swung the door open. The huge mirror on the wall was shattered and there was blood squirted on it. All the products my mom uses for doing he hair and makeup, were on the ground, making it look like a jumble of different shapes and colors. Blood was also on the bright white curtains of the shower. Just then I realized someone was screaming…it took me a little longer to realize I was the one who was screaming. I fell to the ground horrified by all the blood.

“Mom!” I yelled.

I got up and sprinted to my room. I swung open the door…but no one was in there. I then rushed down stairs and into the kitchen. No sign of my mother. I reached out, grabbing onto the counter like my life depended on it. Suddenly the phone rang. I let it ring 3 more times before I answered. The phone felt super heavy in my sweaty hands.

“H-hello?”  I stammered.

“I want 10,000 dollars. You have two months.” Said the voice on the other line. It was a man, his voice was rough and cold.

“W-what? Who is this?” I whimpered.

“You will meet me at the bar on Broadway, at 12:05 pm sharp.”

“Who is this?”

“If you don’t bring the money, I will kill your mother.”

“Who are you? Where’s my mom?”

“If you tell the police, I will kill her too.”

“What have you done to her?”

The line went dead. In seconds thoughts filled my head, threatening to break my skull open. What’s going on? What just happened? There was blood in my mom’s room…was it hers? How did this man get inside the house? How was I going to get 10,000 dollars?  My vision blurred and my eyes rolled back into my head. I was unconscious before I hit the floor.

To Be Continued

Swimming is a Hard Sport.

Swimming Is a Sport

Andrea Basile

        Authors Note: This piece is about how swimming is a very hard sport. This piece is for people who think swimming is easy. After you read it, I hope you realize the truth. I would like feedback on if your opinion about swimming has changed. Thanks!

The water rushing roughly past my ears, drowning out any other sounds.  My arms are flawlessly going back and forward, back and forward…my hands are catching the water beneath me, pulling me fiercely through the water. My legs never stop kicking, but that’s okay, because it moves me forward. My body smoothly rotates through the blue clear liquid. I curl my body into the smallest ball, and I explode of the wall, not breathing. The only thing I can hear besides the rushing water is the fast beating of my heart, fluttering like a butterfly. Thump-thump…thump-thump. I set that as a rhythm of harmony as a swim back and forward across the 25 meter pool. My body is exhausted and tired, when I touch the wall to the end. I do not care what anyone thinks. Swimming is a hard sport.  

            Everyday my body aches because of hard practices. I complain sometimes and people ask me why, and I tell them I’m sore from swimming. Their reaction is what sets me off. They say “Swimming? That’s not even a hard sport!” Well let me ask you this. Can you swim 6,800 yards in 2 hours? No. I don’t think so. Can you hold your breath underwater for 50 yards, then rest for 15 seconds, and do it again? No. I think the reason people think it’s not a hard sport is because you don’t get hurt in it. That’s probably the reason why I’m good at it, actually! I’m awful at combat sports. What I have realized over the years is that, the sports people think are the least “hard”; THOSE are the sports that are the hardest. For example, I used to think that gymnastics was easy…I was very wrong. But, to get back on topic, my answer to those people that say swimming is easy is usually this; “Come to one of my practices.”

            One thing people do not know about swimming is that, to be good, you need to work out besides just being in the pool. You need to do sit-ups, pushups, medicine ball activities, running, pull-ups, jumping, squats, planks, ropes, stretch-cords, you name it! Most people don’t know that. That’s why when I do so well in gym class; people say “Wow Andrea, you’re really good at pull-ups! Do you play any sports?” and I answer proudly “Yes, I’m a swimmer.” That is why I have the fasts time in the girl’s mile.

 Besides doing workouts other than being in the pool, swimming helps me a lot in my physical shape. Swimming is the reason I am not fat. I eat so much and I never gain a pound because I burn all of it off. A lot of people eat a lot but they don’t ever burn it off, so they need to be careful what they eat….but not me! I eat whatever I want. Therefore swimming is actually a great sport to do.

Besides swimming helping you with your weight, swimming work every single muscle in your whole body. Making it one of the hardest sports, in my opinion. It works you abs because you need to keep yourself rotating in the water and keep yourself afloat. It defiantly works you arms because you never stop swimming and pulling yourself through water. Your legs probably get the most tired because you’re constantly kicking very fast. Swimming helps you with cardiovascular fitness, strength, and mostly, in my case, it helps you with endurance. I am what’s considered a “distance swimmer” that means I am good at swimming fast for a long time. It also means I’m consistent with my speed and I don’t slow down. I have endurance. Swimming is what gave me endurance, and that’s the reason I’m so good at running the mile, because I can run fast for a long time.    

            So as you can see, it bothers me when people tell me that swimming’s “so easy”. When really it’s not. It works every muscle in your body, it helps you stay in shape, it helps with endurance, you don’t get hurt in it, and you do much more than just “swim”. So whenever someone tells me swimming is easy…well I guess they’ll just have to try it out first.      

Point of View

Dead Men’s Path Point of View  

By Andrea Basile

Authors Note: In this piece I’m going to tell you how the point of view would change if it was the village persist telling the story instead of Obi, the headmaster. I would like to know if my ideas are clear.

In the captivating story “Dead Man’s Path” an ignorant new head master named Obi, wants his school to be absolutely perfect. The only thing affecting that goal is a footpath. A footpath for the dead. Obi will not tolerate this path and he wants it gone. On the other hand, a priest of the village cares for this path greatly and he will not tolerate the path to be gone. The story would change if it was in the point of view of the village priest.

          The point of view in this story is told by Obi, a new head master of a school. In his mind he wants everything to be perfect to impress a Supervisor of how he can make this school better. Everything was going great for his vision, until he saw the foot path. Obi hates this path and thinks it should be gone because it interrupts the school grounds. Since he hates this path, he decides to get rid of it one and for all. This character changes the point of view because in his mind he thinks getting rid of the path is the best option for the school, and he is determined to get his way. We, as readers, get to know what he is thinking. But what if the point of view was changed?

          If the story was in the point of view of the Village Priest the story would be much different.  Unlike Mr. Obi, the Village Priest admires the footpath and thinks it is very important to the town. The priest wants to follow the footsteps of his father, ad his father’s father. He wants to keep the path going and he believes in the path. The point of view would change because this character wants the path to stay and he is trying to convince Obi to keep it and not shut it down.  That is how the point of view would change if it was told by the Village Priest.     

Old man Burning

Authors Note: I am doing this piece to inform you that in Mexico there is a different culture for New Years. I'm doing this in my point of view. I would like feedback on if I should change my point of view.

The evening was warm on January 1st, the reason it was warm was because I was in Mexico.  I was sitting at the dinner table eating delicious ham with my aunts, uncles, grandma, cousins and mom. When we were eating, suddenly loud "booms" arrived all around. "That must be the fireworks!" my mom declared. We all stared at each other. Then, all at the same time without saying anything we all leaped out of our chairs and sprinted outside to see the fireworks. I was looking up…but there was nothing there, just peaceful clouds and stars in the sky, yet the loud "booms" were still popping.  A puzzled look came on my face. When my cousin saw my confused face, he said "The fireworks aren't in the sky, silly." Then he started running towards a turn at the end of the street. I hesitated a little, then followed him. Right when I turned the corner, the "booms" got louder and light spilled everywhere. I blinked several times before my eyes adjusted. A manikin-looking piñata was burning and sparks were flying everywhere. "What is that?"I asked my mom. "Oh, I never explained this to you! Every year on new years they burn a old man piñata, signifying that they're burning the old year (the old man in this case) and starting fresh with the new year!" I turned and  watched the old man burn.  The fire lit up the whole night. Sparks flied everywhere and people started coming around to look at it too.  I turned to face my mom, "Do they ever set like…REAL fireworks?" My mom replied "They don’t have REAL fireworks here. They can buy them one by one and set them off, but there not nearly as bug as the ones in Wisconsin, there tradition here is it to burn the old man." For the rest of the night I watched the old man burn with light so bright I had to squint my eyes. The fire shot up so high I thought it was going to burn the trees down! Finally the fire died down and I was left with two thoughts. 1. That was weird, but really pretty! 2. Wow. This is a really different culture then Wisconsin!!!