Mosquito Madness I’m drifting off to sleep, listening to the summer night’s breeze rustling the leaves on the oak outside my window. Peaceful. Dreamy. Safe. I’m almost asleep when a loud buzzing sound fills my ear. A disturbing annoyance cancels all thoughts of sleep, disturbs all peace. Buzzzzzzzz...buzzzzzzzz...buzzzzzzz. Only a mosquito can make that sound. How did it get in here? Buzzzzz...buzzzzzzz. I swat and slap at this annoying creature. I’ll get it; I know I will. I’ll knock it down in midair and put it out of its misery. That itsy-bitsy pest can’t survive my powerful swipes.

The House on Medford Avenue I have lived in three places in my entire life. The first home I remember living in was mis abuelos house. I lived in the upper flat of their duplex until I was three years old. My brother was fifteen years old, and my sister was six years old. I am the youngest in my small family. We moved out of that house because mi abuela and my mother were not getting along very well. They argued constantly, screaming so loudly that the neighbor’s windows started to shake. When we left, we only moved 20 blocks away.

Mama’s Stitches Mama’s stitches color me like dark crayons striking paper; my beautiful Mama’s stitches find me on the rainy days I try to hide. Broken vase upon cold tile; sorry Mama, Mama—I’ll be better than the little girl I was last week; you said I needed fixing. Stitches, stitches, you say will hold me together; if not now, then forever. I’ll understand one day, how papas lie and kiss their bottles instead of mamas. Oh, Mama, Mama, black and blue the kids at school ask why I have these stitches and I smile and say they’re glue. I’ll stay together better than the best of you.

The KHS Press Characters Mr. Pulaski, the advisor for the KHS Press Ms. Cebon, another teacher Lena, Weasel, Beth, and Bryon, student reporters Mr. Pulaski stands behind a podium. Weasel, with a knee brace, sits at a table with his wounded leg sticking into the aisle. Beth and Bryon sit at desks. Mr. Pulaski: O.K., people. We need to start our meeting. Ms. Cebon has offered to help us with this issue because we don’t have a lot of time or staff reporters, and we need to get going.

Huddling Together “Let’s kill ’em!” Bob exclaims as we walk toward the stadium. “I’d love to see Zach Thomas crush Thurman Thomas,” I reply. We are not brutal people; we are simply expressing our need to win at all costs. The Miami Dolphins are playing the Buffalo Bills, their most hated opponent. We had this game circled on the calendar since training camp began.

Save the Elephants What should be done with a herd of marauding elephants? This was the problem recently confronting officials at Pilanesberg National Park in South Africa. A number of orphaned male elephants had been transported to the park in order to provide them with a safe and nurturing environment. However, this step to protect the elephant population soon threatened another endangered species. The young elephants had entered musth, like puberty, a state of heightened hormonal activity and increased aggression.

If Only They Knew Anorexia nervosa is an eating disorder that I struggled with for the majority of my middle school years and a portion of my high school years. My classmates at Riverview High School were aware of my disorder, and it greatly affected the way they treated me. At the start of my junior year, I transferred to Madison High School. I decided not to tell anyone at that school about my eating disorder since I was mostly recovered by that time.

Adam’s Train of Ghosts Something happens inside of me when I listen to the music of the Counting Crows. Raw, uncensored emotion pours from the mouth of lead singer Adam Duritz.

Diary of Gaspard May 12, 1780 How can I go on living? My one and only child was taken away from me tonight. It started out as a calm and normal night. It never occurred to me that in only a few short hours I would lose my child, my world, my life. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew something was going to happen. I do not know why I sent my child outside. But as soon as he left, I heard horses. It sounded as if they had hit something. I ran out of the house as quickly as possible, but I was too late. My child was on the road, bleeding from the head. I ran to my child’s side.

My Interpretation of The Joy Luck Club Children, as they become adults, become more appreciative of their parents. In The Joy Luck Club, the attitudes of four daughters toward their mothers change as the girls mature and come to realize that their mothers aren’t so different after all. As children, the daughters in this book are ashamed of their mothers and don’t take them very seriously, dismissing them as quirky and odd. “I could never tell my father . . . How could I tell him my mother was crazy?” (p. 117).