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Week Two - Cookies
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Day 1: Today at recess me and some guys made up a new game its called assassins. We convinced some other guys to play and now we have four teams of deadly assassins. Our team was called the Pooper Scoopers but we could never sneak up on someone to kill them, they could always smell us coming.
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Day 2: We continued our game of assassins, till Tommy Demaro threw a kid off the swings. The kid was crying a lot and there was blood so I assumed he wasn’t A-ok. We stopped playing the game after the teachers got mad at us. The other kids told the teacher that I come up with the idea of the assassin’s game. Though this may be true, I still felt betrayed. The principal didn’t think my game sounded like much fun. I can't have recess anymore for a week. That’s ok thought, Ted will always be there for me.
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Day 3: I can’t stop crying, Ted left.
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Day 4: It’s my second day of hell. I feel so alone. It’s been so long since I have seen the sun… I cry out for Ted to come back but he won’t. Is it cause of me? Was I not good enough? If I tell someone about what I’m thinking will they make me go to the mean old stupid cookie? I don’t want to go back there, but I do like checkers…
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Day 5: I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to find a way to escape from jail. I complained to my mom last night about it, but she just said that I should be a good little tough boy and take my punishment. I considered it I did! Well it’s cold. Just my luck I escaped from my torture during a snow storm.
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Day 6: I think I’ve jumped out of the frying pan and into the snow storm. But I have learned a lot about snow safety from my daddy so I should be A-ok. My daddie taught me not to lick the poles (unless he tells me too) and not to eat the yellow snow (unless he tells me too) and NEVER NEVER NEVER lick a yellow pole (actually I made that one up myself, it seemed like common sense.)
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Day 7: I finally came back home. My mommie was crying and my daddy seemed really happy. I think they missed me! My mommie kept saying something about how happy she was I didn’t end up like Jimmie…where is Jimmie anyways. We went out on the town to celebrate my “not dying from the cold” While we eat I proudly told daddy that I hadn’t licked or eaten any yellow poles. He was too happy I was back to make me go to the cookie. Why do I keep going back to that cookie?
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