Perfect World

In a perfect world, a girl lies on her queen-sized bed. She rings a tiny bell, for her servants to come. When they do, she asks for a chocolate croissant. They bring it to her on a silver platter. In a perfect world, a boy is the captain of a wrestling team. He beats anyone who dare try. Everyone loves him. In a perfect world, You are the ruler and I am your servant. You ask for special suits and fancy dresses, and I bring them to you. In a perfect world, Cinderella's step-sisters obey her. Snow-White abandons the queen. Pinocchio becomes a real boy right away. But this is not my perfect world. In my perfect world, I live in my house. I do the things I already do. I go to school at Randall Elementary. I don't dream of a better place, or want my own world. Because I already live in my perfect world.

My Friend, The Fish

About a couple days ago, my best friend, Winter sadly passed away because of a big swollen eye (A.K.A. Popeye.) And a few days before that, I noticed it. But, I just thought it was a thing on his eye. I should of looked closer, because I didn’t see his pupil. Poor Winter. Never even got to spend his birthday with him. I was what you call . . . Devastated. Sad. Tearful. Mad. Mad at me for not telling someone. For thinking, “Ah, he’ll be fine.” Well guess what Misa? He’s not! But it’s too late to warn myself because maybe I don’t know, two days later, I’m feeding him and I looked even closer. “ Why is that big thing still there? Oh my gosh Winter! You have a swollen eye!” I was thinking out loud and my mom and my brother heard me.We quickly searched the web and found a website that said you should act quickly to prevent death, blindness or the eye falling completely out of his socket! I was so scared, that I started to cry. My mom kept on saying, “ It’s okay. We’re treating it.” But it was a slightly too late. “Um mama? Winter is floating in the corner,” said my little bro. And then it happened. I cried a little. Then more. Then . . . it was pouring my tears. Winter was gone.

It was horrible. The crying. The tears. The empty hole in my heart. I can’t stand thinking about him. And some people call it crazy, to have a fish as your best friend. I don’t. Yes, he may be gone, but I am proud to call him,

My friend, the fish.