We've had lots of samples from Grace and Jasmin on here, but now it's Aiden's turn! Here's a short story from his school work. Completely his own - not even edited by anyone else.
The prairie was baked and cracked by the sun. Tumbleweeds were scattered across the field. Scorched Prairie was arguably one of the most hottest places as the area was flanked by two deserts, covered by mountains on the other side, and the last side was prairie. I am Corn, a prairie dog. Prairie dogs are dogs that live in prairies and they hide from the sun by underground tunnels. I was an obnoxious prairie dog as I wasn’t fully brown with white spots. I was, ermmm, black, with brown spots.
So I was an outcast, but that didn’t stop me from trying to accomplish my dream, to be a digger. Diggers were the safest job, yet the most dangerous. That does not make sense, but think, a digger has the high risk of cave-ins, but they are safe from predators. When I think of predators I shudder, I could never face them. I wouldn’t even try to run, I would be frozen in pure fear. As a matter of fact, even though I was an outcast, a digger would be perfect! No one could see my odd colors under the dirt, and it’s very risky, so other prairie dogs could get rid of me! Even though in the truth a digger is the safest job.
The one thing stopping me is I’m too young. Would you like a three-year-old expanding your house? No, of course they wouldn’t do a good job. Most likely they would make the entire tunnel fall down. But there was one thing I could do to try to become a digger. I could make myself look terrible at every other job. First there was a seed collector. They had the most dangerous job, and I could say that ‘m not fast enough to collect the seeds. Then second there was the caretaker. They had a difficult job, but it was fairly safe. I could say, I didn’t know how to clean up the tunnels, or if I did learn, I would be terrible at it. I could also say, “Plus, digging is good for me, I’m the only one who doesn’t care about sanity.” The best thing about this plan is that it’s true! All those statements are true. Just as I was satisfied by my plan, I heard yells saying, “CODE BLUE, I REPEAT, CODE BLUE!”
I was shocked, code blue meant there was an unknown attacker, birds were code black. It turned out to be a blep. Bleps are the most terrifying creatures on the entire planet. The could literally suck you in with their gleaming, adorable, innocent eyes. Then as soon as you got close that red tongue would be splattered with your blood. No one could process that a blep squeezed it’s way into the tunnels. Then I realized it didn't squeeze into the tunnels. It legitimately walked over the tunnels. I could see prairie dogs getting sucked in. I started running even though I felt guilty for the prairie dogs being sucked in. They are already gone, I reminded myself. I ran to a dead end. It’s not a dead end to me. I dug, and scratched, and clawed. I tunneled through the dirt. It was even easier than I thought! The dirt fell beneath my claws like grass in a wildfire. I thought of an ingenious, unthinkable, incredible idea. Stuff the dirt behind me. It worked. No one knew where I was. I could feel the pull of the blep’s eyes, but the dirt stopped me from being sucked. I tunneled further. I would need to get back to the surface. Even though it was full of dangers it was my only hope. I broke the scorched ground. I could see birds soaring above my head.
AHHHHHHHHHH, I thought. I am going to be eaten! In blind panic I started running. I stumbled into a hole, when I looked around I panicked even more. I was in a blep cave. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed. I quickly jumped out of the hole and ran. A while later I tunneled into the ground. I have to, I must hide. The dirt flew everywhere. Then I fell, more like fell on top of another prairie dog.
They said, “Glad to see you alive.”
I replied, “How are you guys alive?”
They said, “For some reason the blep started to tunnel into the ground where you went. You tunneled so fast, you deserve to be a digger.”
I replied in shock, “Really? Please, I really want to be a digger.”
“Sure, I grant you to be a tunnel maker, your first shift starts tomorrow,” the mysterious prairie dog said.
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