Saturday, December 8, 2012

A Bag of Gumballs by Katherine Hostetler





Do you like to read a bunch of different genre's of books? If so, then you might want to consider reading this book. In this book, I am writing a bunch of different short stories and putting them together into one large book. All of them are special and unique.
The book is named A Bag of Gumballs because if you have a bag of gumballs and you choose a piece our of the bag, you'll never know what color it will be. It's always a surprise.

Here's a short little example:
            “Are you sure it’s safe for you to walk home in this weather?” my friend said as she looked out the window that was on her front door. She stroked the window gingerly with her right hand. “I could always have my mom drive you.”
            The fact that she was offering something that her mom should be offering made me slightly laugh. “I’m fine,” I said. “Don’t worry about me.” I opened the door, and as soon as it was open a large boom of thunder echoed through the sky.
            “Are you sure?” she asked. Her eyes seemed to be a little bit winder than they usually were, and her hands seemed as though they were shaking with fear.
            “I’m very sure,” I said. “Now, you go to bed.” I stepped outside, and I was immediately pelted with a sheet of rain. I turned around and faced her. The front of me was completely wet. “I’ll be fine,” I said with a laugh.
            The wind howled as the rain beat against me and the sidewalk that was around me. It was the dead of the night, and I was wondering why I was walking anyways. Even if it wasn’t raining, it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to be out here. The cracking sound of thunder could be heard everywhere. From the dark clouds lightning would strike various places near me and light up the sky and the pathway in front of me just before vanishing.
            Not too far away from me, I could see a glowing person outstretching their hand towards me. I rolled my eyes thinking to myself, “There’s no way there’s a ghost,”
            As if reading my mind, they decided to prove me wrong about them not being a ghost. They started to hover off the ground. They were a pallid phantom that seemed to be picked right of my personal hell to force the screams out from my dry throat. Most people in this world would have seen this as a specter, but I wasn’t afraid. I stood there in awe.
The creature that was there was beautiful beyond belief. Her skin was creamy and white and her hair, a very large contrast, was a rich shade of mahogany. Long and beautiful lashes framed her emerald green eyes. Her beautiful eyes seemed to be boring into the depths of my soul. Her nose was strait, and she had the most beautiful, full lips that I had ever laid my eyes on. She seemed to be the picture of perfection. Had she been smiling, the whole word would sigh with contentment, and had she laughed, the world would laugh with her. Also, had she wept, everyone in the world, would be by her side to comfort her.
I took a step towards her. “Who are you?” I asked as I reached my hand out to her.
“I’m you,” she said with a smile. Her smile was like an angelic ray of light beaming down on me.
My arm fell back down to my side, and I squinted my eyes at her. “You can’t be me. Y-you’re so beautiful.” I whispered. I had awe in my tone.
            “I’m you,” she paused and floated down in front of me. She was not even two feet away from me when she said, “I’m you in the future,” Seeing that I didn’t believe her, she said, “Soon, you’re going to die, and you’re going to become a spirit. Whenever you become a spirit, you become perfect.”
            I felt my hands trembling at my sides. “How will I die?”
            “That, I cannot say, but just know that you must be careful,” she glanced to her right and gasped. “I don’t have very much time left. I must go!” She started to fade away, and as she began to disappear, tears started to form in my right eye. With every gust of wind, she got more and more see-through.
            “No, please don’t go! I need to know!” I shouted as I tried to grab onto her. My hand went strait through her. I looked down at my hand with shock. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening,” I whispered. I looked back up, and she was gone.  The only thing left was a memory.
            “Hey, you!” I heard a voice scream behind me.
            “This is how I die,” I whispered to myself.











author description:
Katherine Hostetler was born in a small town named Wellington, Florida. When she was first born, she had three older brothers. After two years of life, her new, baby sister was born. Throughout her childhood, Katherine immersed herself in the arts. The first thing that she started doing was writing. She had a passion for writing. Her peers thought she was really weird for liking things that they considered to be boring. They would tease her and call her names, but always, she would rise above them, and she wouldn’t be mean back. As she grew up even more, she started to get into cooking, playing piano, singing, and even playing hand bells. She was a very well rounded person most of her childhood. Katherine has bee trying to write books and stories since she learned how to write, but she didn’t have the chance to have any formal writing classes until this school year. She began to take a creative writing class that had only two other students in it. To serve her love of chorus, she has been in multiple choirs, summer performing camps, solo and ensembles, all-state choirs, and national choirs. To serve her love of hand bells and piano, she participated in a hand bell choir, a solo-ringing club, and she had piano lessons for seven years when she was young. Overall, she has had a lot of chances to improve her talents.





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