Stolen Dance Poorness was awful. When I Was 7 or 8 my mum died when a horrible rain storm came. The city was wiped out, except the ballroom which was in a huge mansion which survived. My father was at high seas making deliveries to other places. Being poor meant you had nothing to grab and hold on to. I had a dream when I was little. I dreamed that I dancing in the ballroom of the mansion. I am 14 right now. My dad died on a delivery to England. I have been mourning the death of my poor parents. Mentally and Physically. I have a tiny room in the tore down country. A wave wiped many. Many evacuated before the storm. We did not. We all went to the huge mansion seeking advice, but he went off with some people in a private jet. People that were left behind took shelter in his house. The waves came inside, I had wandered into a room that locked down and didn't open until the storm was gone and I saw my mum and sissy dead. I have drawn all kinds of drawings of the dance I dream of. Me and a blur for now where dancing in the ballroom. It was updated and we were dancing not slow, but a fast beautiful dance was playing. We dance all night long as the#moonrises. We leave and the sun is shining. Then all of the torn down buildings came up and were fixed and next my dead mum and sissy showed up. "We are so proud of you darling," she said. They disappeared and I was only in a dream. The next day as I walked in and saw a boy my age checking out the room. I told him the story of every thing and he had moved here never hearing of this storm. His dad was sick and he came looking for herbs. I told him there were none I went to my shack and gathered and gave them to him. I went back and found a drawing that had fallen from him. It was him and a blur dancing. That was mine too. I ran through the streets looking for him with a trunk of drawings and oil pastels. The first dream of a person who is poor is about to come true. I met him at his house and we went to the ballroom and called the owner and everyone who wanted to come to the biggest dance in history for now. It was the night of the Ball of Dance. I had on my mask and everyone has on simple dresses compared to me because entry fee was 10$. They provided me the dress they were saving for their daughter. Everyone looked at me in shock and the music came on. I ran to the floor looking for him. His name was Charles Xavier. He might sound rich, but he was not. I looked all around for him and finally he showed up. His hair was messy, but his clothes were stunning. He grabbed my hands and we danced as the music played on. I walked outside two days later all the ruins were fixed and the population got bigger. I had two statues built my mum and sissy. I remember to this day that my mum talked to me. And one night death greeted me

Beautiful Words Panima Words of all people created a magical thing. A powerful thing too. A word was something that could make you laugh or cry or even make your day. Pamina Words thought of it in her library. Nobody could remember what happened to this society of greatness. She stared at the wall attempting to open her mouth and a little bit more came out. She started to get better at sayings. Sayings were what they lived off of. Nobody understood why she was so different. She added color to her clothes she twiddled her thumbs. She was nothing but more. She walked to the community will power and spoke beautiful words. She had a dream. Epilogue: Panima changed the Cityscape into the most colorful place in the world and created the book of meaning. She said that she would never go back tomorrow because she was a different person yesterday.

A Flitwick Dream My name Is Savvy Flitwick I have hidden all my #life in a closet in the attic of an old house owned by President John F. Kennedy. My parents built and lived in this house while I was young. I am 16 years old and I got polio. I cannot walk I have laid in this closet in a old little bed. One day a voice came. I looked up and there an ugly white women stood staring at me. Her mouth opened. She grabbed a towel and dusted me off. She picked me up and told me to walk. I could not walk or talk. I had forgotten in all the time up here. My vocal cords did not work. She dragged me downstairs. A much nicer one gave me a brownie and water. I could talk again! I told her about my condition. Why did she not listen? She walked away to the television and told me to follow. I went over there. A black man like me stood there. He had a dream that little black boys and little white girls would hold hands in harmony. He had a dream today. I looked over at a little girl who was white and she looked at me. She walked to me and we held hands. Believing in that dream.

Fifth Grade Fears I went to Fifth grade at Adium Elementary. It was a popular school in the 1990's. I went there when I was 11. We walked in calmly to a small school never expecting our teacher to be a dark demon angel sent from Hell. Miss. Helli had the word that describes her in her name! But you know what else? She asked us what our Fifth grade fears were. I went first confessing I had nothing to fear. The girl next to me was named Miya. She said Robot Unicorns. A boy named Albert with a huge wart said spiders. Finally the girl I liked came up and confessed she was scared of Miss. Helli. I never saw Lilly again. She was gone until the cops found her buried in Miss. Helli's garden of dead flowers. Poor Lilly.

Lilac Smatt Makeup Studios called for only the best of the best for these actors. A great movie was to come out, but one day the makeup artist for Channing Tatum got sick. Lilac Smatt took on the job.