Writers in the Schools (WITS)
Kate Carbajal’s Language Arts Class
Mayfield High School
WITS MFA Graduate Student:
Heather Frankland
Will you dance with me?
By Kelsey Schulz
A flower in a meadow
The smell so strong and sweet
You’re the perfect fellow.
Will you dance with me?
The smell so strong and sweet
Sending chills down my spine
Will you dance with me
In a meadow so divine?
Sending chills down my spine
Your smile is so amazing
In a meadow so divine
Nothing seems to phase me.
Your smile is so amazing
A flower in a meadow
Nothing seems to phase me
You’re the perfect fellow.
From the letter exercise
By Paul-Issac Warpalm
One day I was sitting in my office (the oval office), and I had a letter to send to my friend in Europe. And I called him and asked him if he got the letter and he said no. By that point I knew I was going to have some scars at the end of the day. I went to my room and put on all my army gear. I then got my AK-47 and approached the mail man, and I asked him,’where’s my letter I sent?’ Then all of the sudden the mail man takes off in his mail truck. I shot one of his wheels and stopped him. Finally after about 20 minutes of arguing and a couple of punches I got the letter back. Then I looked at the mail man and I said. . .bye Jeff, see you tomorrow. Then when I got inside I opened my letter to see if everything was still good with it, and as I opened it I started noticing it wasn’t my letter! My mind was racing, and I knew I had been tricked!
I knew that the mail man was a conspirator to the MK’s also known as the Mail Keeper’s. I had to do something drastic. I punched in my secret code to my underground lair, and I geared up with my batman supplies. I got in the bat-mobile and took off. I didn’t know where I was going but I knew I had to do something. I still had my AK-47 in the backseat, and then all of the sudden I saw a mail truck with some flat tires. I knew that was the guy who had my letter. I threw my batman boomerang at him, and it knocked him out cold. I knew I only had about 10 minutes to find my letter but incredibly I found it. So I finally just took a plane to Europe and gave it to my friend myself. By the end of the day, I was tired and sweaty and I knew I had an adventure tomorrow.
From point of view exercise
By Dominic Schneider
First person:
I am a Notre Dame fan, and my cousin is a USC. So a couple years ago they played each other. Notre Dame was winning in the last minute of the game and USC had 1st and 10. Notre Dame lost by 1! The next day at school he was talking a lot of trash about how they won, and I just wanted to punch in the face right outside during lunch.
Point of view from the other person in scene:
Yes! USC won. At lunch I’m gonna rub it in his face when I see him at lunch. “Hey, Dominic, did you see the game last night?. . .did you see the final score?” I said, “Haha really funny Lucas.” He said, “I told you USC was gonna win.”
Point of view from a passerby:
That is when David was walking by and stopped when he heard us. He said to us, “Haha
you guys are so funny. You both know that the best team is the Longhorns. They are gonna go all the way this year.” Lucas said, “Ya, right! Look who’s team just beat Notre Dame. USC is going all the way.” I said, “USC got lucky; Notre Dame will come back and beat both of your teams by at least 20. They both laughed and said, “Alright let’s just go play basketball.”
Point of view from an inanimate object nearby:
There was a rock and a stick on the ground next to us. The rock was with me for Notre Dame. The stick was for USC. The rock said to the stick, “Notre Dame is so much better, don’t make me snap you in half.” The stick said, “Sure, whatever, you know USC is better. Go skip on water.”
From the secret exercise
By Ty Stovall
The boy avoided her eyes; it’s as if whenever their eyes met, she could read his emotions.
“Did your finish your science homework?” he asked.
“No,” she answered. She kept trying to read what he was feeling through his eyes but he wouldn’t make eye contact. He looked straight through her with a blank, unfocused look.
Whenever the boy looked at her eyes, he looked through her, always being lost in thought; never being in the moment. By doing this, he kept his secret cleverly hidden in a fog. All his feelings were being covered by his thoughts like how a shadow hides all things in it. His feeling are still there (they aren’t boxed up, just cleverly concealed.)
Anxious to break the silence, the girls asked, “Did you finish the homework?” she already knew the answer.
“Yes.”
Feeling the awkward tension, which was by now thick enough to cut with a butter knife, the boy told a joke. It wasn’t particularly the funniest joke but the girl laughed and so did the boy and then the sound of the other’s laughter made the other laugh even harder. After a minute or two of the strange pair telling each other jokes or funny events, they were nearly on the edge of tears.
As each became more relaxed, the conversation became more serious yet it was still very humorous and each laughed without restraint. The boy made more eye contact but the only things she saw was joy, happiness, and love (not the romantic or brotherly kind, the agape kind.) On the other hand, the boy saw the slightest bit of disappointment. At this, he remembered his secret, and the tension rushed back. Along with this, one of the girl’s friends and one of the guy’s friends found them and came over.
Both the boy and the girl felt like they were caught making fools of themselves (considering all the unnecessary laughter) and they felt ashamed. The boy, however, also was relieved but the girl became irritated and annoyed.
From tight spaces exercise
By Kelsey Culley
“Please take me on the Ferris wheel!” The little girl asked me. “They won’t let you go by yourself on the Ferris wheel. I need an adult!” She begged me.
“Just once,” I replied. Apparently the girl didn’t realize I was busy or had no apparent interest in riding a Ferris wheel with a girl I’ve never met.
“Oh thank you sooo much,” the little girl said as she grabbed my hand and began to lead me over to the Ferris wheel.
We got up to the ride and the man stopped us, “You’ll have to pay.”
“What?”
“You’ll have to pay; nobody gets a free ride.”
I looked at the girl who smiled nervously, “Oh,” she said, “I must have forgot.”
“Are you going or not? I don’t have all day,” said the very annoyed man.
“Ummm. . .yeah sure. Um hold on a second, let me get my money.” I began to dig through my purse when my cigarette box fell on the ground. I quickly picked it up, got my money, paid, and got on the ride.
Nothing was said. I clutched the rail in fear as the ride began to turn. Un-benounced to the girl my terrible apprehension for heights was beginning to set in.
“You know that’s bed for you.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear me?” replied the girl, “That’s bad for you.”
“Yes! I heard you. What’s bad for me?”
“Smoking,” she shyly said, “it’s bad for you.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“I saw the box.”
“Oh. . .”
I began to forget about my fear of heights when suddenly the ride jolted, and I lost my train of thought altogether. The ride was stuck, and we were at the very top.
“That’s not good,” said the girl.
“I know . . . when do you think it will start working again?”
“No. . . . not that.”
“Okay look I know smoking is ba . . .”
“Not that . . . You lied to me. That’s not good.”
“I . . . I—look.”
“Why would you lie to a stranger?”
“I. . .I. . .I’m sorry, I guess kid.”
“Sarah.”
“What?”
“It’s Sarah . . . I’m not just some kid!”
Silence. I did not know what to say. This girl, whoever she was, was reading me like a book.
“Pretty view isn’t it . . .”
She only looked at me. Then looked back down and continued playing with her fingernails. Again, silence.
Push It
By Christie Williams
When your heart’s pounding and you just want to stop
Go back home, sit in your room and rot.
When you feel it’s not there, not even way down deep
And you just want to call it quits and weep.
You’ve got to remember it’s what you love,
Going hard and flying high above.
Think of all those hours, spent in the gym,
Working hard all for that one big win.
When you’re about to freeze before doing something new
Hear this in your head, “It’s what I love,
It’s what I do!”
From End of World exercise
By Drisana De La Torre
The bell rings loudly. I rush out of class. Soon the halls are crowded with people excited for summer vacation. I try and push my way through all the obstacles. I get outside and it’s not much better. I push and get out to a space. I panic and look in all directions. My heartbeat accelerates. The sweat gets in my eyes and blinds me. I start to run. I look behind, in front, left, right. “The world,” I say to myself, “is about to end.” All of the pressure of the world crowds me. Choking pressure. I rush inside. 4,3,2. . “Yes!” I made it! This outfit is so gorgeous. The world would’ve ended for me if they sold out. Luckily, I got the last one, and it fits me perfectly.
From the tight spaces exercise
By Marisol Via
The chimney had shrunk! That has to be it, right? Well, he won’t admit it to you but Old St. Nick over there doesn’t exactly fly up and down chimneys now-a-days. He tries to fir with his bag of toys and big coat although the outfit is mostly for image anyway; it’s more practical today to have a waterproof outfit on with the way everything’s meltin’ up north.
“Oof,” a grunt came from down the chimney.
“You okay down there, Santa?” asked Jumjers.
“By jingles! Does it sound like I’m okay? I’m stuck!”
“Golly gee, what should I do? With you down there the good little boys and girls can’t get their presents, and I can’t get paid.”
“Just give me a little push. They must not have cleaned in here recently. Too much stuff on the walls.”
“Right. . .”mumbled Jumjers, “This happens every time. When is he going to realize not every house in American has shrunken chimneys. If he’s stop eating the cookies they set out for him this wouldn’t happen.”
“HURRY! Before I’m noticed!”
Lights switched on the house below.
“I’m trying Santa, I can’t find anything to reach you!”
“Well, come get me. Push me or something.”
Jumjers didn’t tie off his safety belt right so when he fell in they couldn’t get out.
* * *
Christmas morning, family comes in the living room and light the fire, giving both severe burns but they healed with magical Christmas spirit.
From the letter exercise
By Savannah Robertson
Where is the letter? Why is it gone? Why did it leave him by himself—it left him alone. He needed something if he couldn’t have me. Something to remind him of how it was before all this. How it used to be. All it had was words but the words would dress up as me and maybe there for a minute or two, he would remember. Remember how I was, how we were. Spark some deep memory and allow him to live in that moment, to let him escape from the now broken pieces of himself. Why was it lost? It left him alone again.
From the tight spaces exercise
By Dakota Blackmer
It was a dark and moonless night at the Amusement Park. One man gets on a Ferris wheel cart and another follows while on his phone. The Ferris wheel starts to move. Then, once the two men get to the top, the second man presses a button on his phone and all of the sudden, the ride stops at the top.
The second man pulls a gun on the first and says, “Say a word and you’re dead.”
“What do you want with me?” asks the first man.
“Tell me who you’re working for.”
“I work at the barber shop.”
“Unit, what?”
“I work at the barber shop.”
“Damn it. Sorry man, I got the wrong guy.”
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.”
The second man pressed a button and the ride continued. He looked outside of the card. Then suddenly he realized something. Two carts away. There he was, the man he was trying to kill. They locked eyes. The other man was close to the ground so he jumped out of the cart. The killer decided to do the same but he was about 40 feet in the air. He landed on the ground and nearly broke a leg. Stood up and saw the other man running away. He chased after him and once he got to a clear spot, he lifted his gun, took a deep break, and shot. In the distance he could see a burst come off of the man’s body, and then the sudden crash of a dead body.
A Writer I Was & A Writer I Still Am
By Katie Preston
I wrote a letter one day, a sunny day it was. The clouds were just right and the mist from the sea was blowing in my face. It was the perfect day to go looking for seashells but instead, I was writing a letter. Not just any ordinary letter but my first letter. It was a letter of complete randomness but who cares. I was only five and what five year old knows what to write about? My letter was to someone. Someone I didn’t know but it was to someone. It said, “Dear Stranger, my name is Ruby and I liked the color blue. If you ever find this letter, just know that it came from a little girl with a big dream. A dream for things to happen with so little time.” So I signed the letter and stuck it in a bottle and cast it out to sea, left to wander if someone would ever find it or if it would be the lost letter no one would ever find. . .
I’ll never know.
Now that I think back to that day, fifty years ago, I just laugh at the little curiosities that sparked my mind. A writer I was and a writer I still am, maybe not so good but it’s a hobby not a sport. It’s a love not a job . . . I do it for pure happiness and joy.
From the character and tight space exercise
By Josh Vasquez
Once upon a time there was a man named Clide. And one night Clide had watched a scary movie. Clide sat in his bed trembling and sweating, listening to all the scary sounds throughout his house. Then he started to see this light coming from under his bed. He went to take a look and saw a man with long sharp nails, spiked-up hair, big sharp teeth like a shark, and was wearing ripped up clothes. It was the Boogie Man. Clide jumped up and ran out of his room but the Boogie Man was running right behind him. Clide saw the chimney in the fmail room and thought the Boogie Man wouldn’t find him there. He quickly ran over and started climbing up it. He was almost out but got stuck. Clide tried to waffle himself free but he stopped for he heard the Boogie man walking around below him.
Then he heard something getting close to him. He peaked down and saw the Boogie Man coming at him. Then Clide saw the Boogie Man stop. He was stuck like a fly in a web. The Boogie Man tried to reach for Clide but wasn’t close enough. Clide remembered he had his lucky horseshoe and dropped it on Boogie.
“I hate you!” exclaimed the Boogie Man.
“I hate your . . . face!” wailed Clide.
“That’s all right because when I get you I’m taking you under your bed and make you eat brussell sprouts at my house!”
Clide gasped, “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh I would,” the Boogie Man told Clide. Hours went by and the sune was coming up. Clide had been pushing on the chimney all night. It had broken, and Clide fell on the Boogie Man. Clide had got up and saw the Boogie Man was no more. With the Boogie man’s last breath, he said, “I’ll be back,” and disappeared.
Spring Break!!
By Kladaisa McLaurin
The sun now is come. The hot finally has come back. I can see the flowers blooming and the grass becoming green once again. I can’t wait till summer. School is out, and the parties begin. Cross Country begins with a blast with a lot of people from track I have come to know. I get to go home back to Florida finally to see my old friends and maybe hang out but not soo much. I like New Mexico better. One month in Florida is all I need and I’m wiling to come back to what I really call home. Cross Country from what I see if going to be time consuming but fun from what I can see. It’s not going to be as hard as track and less annoying, too.
My P.O.V. (point of view) From point of view exercises
By Kladaisa McLaurin
It made me very said to hear that my friend is now dead. The tears dropped from eyes that very night as I thought about it. I had held the tears in the whole day but when finally alone, it hit me, he’s dead. My mom watched me that night but did not expect me to cry at all. She held me for what seemed like for hours and hours to come. Finally the tears froze, and I went to my room to write. Why did he do it? Why couldn’t be talk to me? Why wasn’t I there? Maybe I could have helped but what is done, is done. 2 months away from his last day in middle school, and he never even reached high school. It was that very Easter Monday that he left the world without saying good-bye. Good-bye, Good-bye.
Something for me to write about tonight and also something for me to never forget. He is gone but life will have to move on. Like always. He was always a good friend but as it seems, everyone dies sometime . . . right?
From point of view and tight spaces exercise
By Morgan Sanders
Guy’s point of view (POV): I’m here at the fair with my girlfriend. I’m just about sick of her talking. Oh. . .God.. . Is that “her”? She’s here with another guy. This hurts so bad to see, I know I never talked to her after, but I never knew seeing her move on would hurt this much.
Girl’s point of view (POV): I’m at the fair with my boyfriend, he makes me laugh, he is so wonderful, I get butterflies when he holds my hands. Hold on. Is that “him,” oh it is hum. Why do I have to see him here like this, he doesn’t care about me why do I still care for him?
He doesn’t deserve it anyways.
Guy: My girlfriend wants to get on the Ferris wheel, so I’ll let her sit first.
Girl: Me and my boyfriend are going to ride this Ferris wheel.
“His” girlfriend takes a seat.
One seat in front of “her” boyfriend takes a seat.
“She” drops her bag; “he” helps her pick it up.
The Ferris wheel starts with one single girl and one single guy.
“Him” and “her” start talking.
Guy: You look great.
Girl: Thanks.
Guy: How are you?
Girl: Fine.
Guy: I’m so sorry.
Girl: You screwed me over. You hurt me more than I ever imagined.
Silence.
Guy: You are all I think about.
Girl: And I actually cared for you.
Guy: Forgive me.
Girl: You hurt me.
Guy: I’m sorry.
Girl: We’ll see.
Girl: Bye.
Guy cries.
From Plot exercise
By Brittany Trevizo
You ask me for a favor and as a friend I accept. You want to be with that guy over there and want me to ask for you. As your friend, I ask him for you. There is only one problem, he likes us both. I ask him for you, and he gladly accepts. You two are together, and I’m happy for you but there is that guilt that I have inside me that I must tell you about. I’ve also been with him and he has never really liked you as much as he likes me.
From End of World exercise
By Britten Rios
So today started out like any other day. I woke up, took a shower, ate my breakfast, then I was off to school. During 4th period I noticed something under my desk. I was a little grossed out thinking it was gum. Twenty minutes later I noticed the thing under my desk had fallen on the floor. I picked it up and closely examined it. On the left hand corner I noticed my name and a sentence saying—open me. So of course I opened it. In big letter the note read, “FIND ME A PENNY WITH A NUMBER 2 ON IT OR THE WORLD WILL END TOMORROW.”
I was a little creeped out and didn’t know whether to believe the paper or not, so I blew it off. A couple of minutes later I decided I had nothing better to do so I asked my friend where he would look for a random penny with a number 2 on it, and he said the vending machines.
As irritated as I was, I walked around the whole school looking for that penny. By the time the bell rang, I still hadn’t found it. So I gave up. The next day the world was still up and running so I figured the note was a prank. When I got to school my friends were all laughing and said that it was their senior prank. All that looking for nothing.
From tight spaces exercise
By Garrett Hargrave
Her jail cell felt colder than usual; she could see the steam float out of her mouth. About 3 feet in front of her, her steam gathered into little clouds. He heard started pumping and her mind racing. She ran her hand through the levitating cloud. When it came out she felt pain serge through her arm. Inch long cuts covered her hand. She lifted her hand and the blood flowed down her arm.
“How had it followed her here?” She thought silently.
She turned back to where the cloud was as she peered into the cloud a face started forming. First there was an evil grin, she saw the yellow teeth gleaming at her, the crooked nose appeared then glowing red balls for eyes. She blinked and when her eyes opened again there was an entire man staring back at her with the same evil grin. He was wearing dark black boots with equally dark jeans, a black trench coat came over his waist. The only that was in him were his glowing red eyes and his gleaming yellow teeth.
She understood her fate. She was scared but she didn’t let her face show it. She fell to her knees and prayed to god to help her but nothing answered back. God wasn’t there. She closed her eyes and opened them once more. The last thing she saw was the black figure moving closer to her than darkness and no light at the end, last Black empty death.
This project is made possible in part by New Mexico Arts, a division of the Department of Cultural Affairs, and the National Endowmentfor the Arts.