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2013 8th Grade Anthology Project

Creative stories by Christian Hatcher

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Cover Image found on Google images 2013 8th Grade Anthology Project Creative stories by Christian Hatcher Huntsville Publications Huntsville, Arkansas Friday May 16, 2013

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Table of Contents Dedications

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Bio-Poem

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The Thing and I

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The Reflection

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The Wondering Bus

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The Letter

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All about me

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Dedications to Mrs. Marsh and Mrs. Crow for encouraging me to write these stories.

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Bio-Poem Christian Impatient, friendly, goofy, and sleepy Who loves devouring ribs, playing video games, and playing football Who needs encouragement from others, lots of Gatorade to stay hydrated, and my parents being proud Who gives advice to my brother, sometimes, helps in finding things, and sometimes pencils Who fears the dark because you never know who is there, fears being alone, stranded and a day when no more water is existing Who likes to see a day that it would rain gallons of water and never stop, being in the NFL for the Atlanta Falcons, and world peace Resident of Huntsville Hatcher

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The Thing and I I sat there on the train not wondering where I was going, I allowed the train to whisk me away, anywhere was better than here. The train started to move, but it was making no noise, everyone was frozen, and I was the only one moving. I started to panic; I started wondering to myself when I heard the back door of the train open. The figure stood in front of the door dressed in a black cloak, staring at me with black eye sockets with eyes that glow crimson red. Oh no! He has found me! The figure slowly started getting closer to me, I started approaching the other door but it was replaced with a poster with the words “FOUND YOU!â€? In huge bold letters, I felt a sharp pain in my chest and everything went black‌

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The Reflection Whenever I’m alone, with no one to hang out with, I like to look at my reflection. Oh reflection, my only companion during the hard times I face, you were the only one there for me when I am most troubled, but it doesn’t feel the same as having a real friend. Oh reflection, why must it be you and I? Why must it be this way? Why can’t we be accepted? Is there a way to get out of this misery? Oh reflection I only wish for one, single, answer, and yet you never speak.

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The Wandering Bus In the outskirts of Pennsylvania there was a bus that always drives by when you’re not looking, always wonders around. The people in the area call it, the wandering bus. Some people say it’s a ghost bus, the bus that rides for eternity. The people around there never saw the bus; they say it was just legend. I had been traveling the United States ever since I ran away from home. Now I regretted the idea, everywhere I went people often stared at me, sometimes invited me in for dinner. Sitting on the lonely bench that was waiting for the gentle warmth of company I stared at the ground for awfully some time when I suddenly heard tires squealing in the distance, stop in front of me, and open its doors to welcome me. I had never seen a bus like this, it oddly looked like a prison bus but with comfortable seats greeted with loneliness. I told the bus driver to just keep driving while I sat in one of the seats, I stared at my watch for quite some time when the bus stopped and the driver yelled “Is this your Stop?” What the heck? I’m back in Arkansas? Is this my house? I stepped out to explore when the bus suddenly disappeared leaving nothing but tire tracks. I still puzzle the day I took a trip on that bus. How did I get here so fast? That journey wasn’t bad at all, there was some pretty good things to the journey, and the best thing was I didn’t have to walk back home. 9


The Letter Ah, Friday, never can get enough of it, especially after 3:10 p.m., just kicking back playing video games, that’s what I normally do, since I have nothing else to do. The window was open so I decided to have a look outside, spotting a red truck in the distance. “Must be the mail truck.” I mumbled to myself and jogged to the mailbox, checking the mail. One of them had my name on it; all it said was “Dear Christian” In small font. That is my name though, it must be something important. Walking back to the house I opened the mysterious letter and inside was a folded up piece of paper. I unfolded the paper and the letter started with this. Dear Christian, How was life so far? Soar all over after football? I know I been through that too, but listen, you probably don’t know me but you will at the end of this letter, I remember that you broke your arm at two years of age. You broke it while you were on the trampoline and you were following a bird. I know tough time right? I hope you enjoy your future; it’s going to be great!

I paused for a moment. How the heck does he know that? Then I turned it over. Sincerely, Christian Hatcher

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All About Me When I was 6 my parents had divorced. It was a hard time for me to get over the fact my parents had divorced. Last year during 2012 my dad got fired from J.B. Hunt because of an excuse they said he didn’t check in even though he did, it was so that way they could get other people that were cheaper. Not many good things happened to me during my lifetime and it was kind of a depressing one, but some of my lifetime was great. I had finally gotten over my problems of the past and looking forward to the future.

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ChristianHatcher.PDF  

English Anthology

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