My life

How important writing is to me
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My fiction story

(2014-06-22 12:20:31) 下一個
Once there was a 12 year old girl. Her name was Valentina. She loved writing. She loved reading too. She lived with a wealthy family. But she was very selfish.

Her grandma gave her a large book about a girl who ran away from her family and travelled into the jungle. Her grandma was a librarian. But her grandma had warned her not to read it at night. Then she shot Valentina a "be careful" look. But I guess Valentina didn't listen on purpose because she was very selfish,she didn't care. "What will happen if I read it at night?" She thought. That night, after she ate a big feast of turkey meat, her mother in her golden robe went to tuck her in. The book is under her pillow. 

"Sweat dreams". Her mother called. Then Valentina took out her book. She read the title loud and clear. "The jungle" she said. She got her flashlight out. She blinked because of the bright light.  She opened the book, the dedication said "to my granddaughter Valentina" . She smiled at that. Then she started reading. She read and read until she became sleepy. After she reas another chapter, she was asleep. The book was against her chest.

after what seemed liked an houe, Valentina felt like she couldn't breath. She coughed so loudly that she awaken by her own coughing. She was surprised to see that vines were growing from the book. They were growing fast. She thrashed her hands wildly, trying to rip the vines with all her strength. She ripped the vine open and jumped off of her bed. She had cuts and scratches all over her. She raced out of her room and almos




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