rubio06’s Blog

The hot, Californian sun was beating down on the yellow grasslands as the sound of a dozen drumming hooves echoed among the trees. Balerie was sitting high in the branches of an old oak tree watching the dirt swirl behind the six horses. Mounted on these horses were men. They had guns hanging from their western-style saddles, and they wore leather boots with bloodied spurs.
Balerie climbed higher, desperate to not be seen. These men had been hunting her for several days now. They had finally caught up with her, but they didn’t know that. She had climbed the tree because she knew she would collapse from exauhstion if she continued running under the bone-cracking sun.
Suddenly, one of the men whistled to bring them to a stop, right under the tree. As she looked down at the quivering, panting horses she thought that she had been caught.
Then, a man with a long hunting-knife in his hand exclaimed, “Wait a minit’. Look up there!”
Balerie’s heart seemed to leap through her flesh and fall to the ground as she thought to herself, “Oh, they’ve seen me! I know they have. Now, they’re going to pull out their guns and take aim.” As she buried her face against the branch she was clinging onto, a play-by-play ran through her head, “They’re looking down the barrel at me. They lift their chins and widen their eyes. Then, they slowly pull back the trigger, and…”
But, she heard nothing. She looked down again and the men were pointing at the mountain ranges that lay to the north. No, they were pointing at the storm clouds that were visciously rolling over the mountains! They started to whoop and shout, then they spurred their horses and took off riding, leaving Balerie to herself in the tree.
Sighing, she said aloud to herself, “I don’t think I’ll ever make fun of a cowboy’s mustache again”…

(Sorry if there are some spelling errors. I’ll be editing it really soon!)

Polar Bear Swim By: D. B. Rubio /12-12-08

I was in an empty, black sleep, floating on the night’s crisp sounds. The crickets had stopped their melodious chirping, but the frogs had found their cue and started filling the air with throaty croaks. Then, through the room, the sharp sound of a creaking door startled me. I thought about the sound for a second, thinking that maybe I was hearing it through my dreams. Whispers brought me back to real life, making me realize that I was not dreaming.
My eyes flickered open and I peered into the darkness, looking for whomever
(or whatever) had opened the door. I heard the shuffle of feet, and after a short recollection, I remembered what day it was. “Hey guys” I heard myself mumble. Drowsily, my cabin leaders walked over to my bunk. I knew that there was two of them; one was abnormally tall, (I’m terrified of tall people) and the other had a very shrilly voice. The kind of voice that sticks with you and seems to scream at you in nightmares. I sat up in my cozy bed and glanced at the clock that lay at my feet. It read four-thirty a.m. Then, I was fully awake and aware that I had exactly half an hour to be ready. “Are ya’ goin’ on the Polar Bear swim?” tiredly asked the tall one, in her Southern accent. I simply nodded, because I knew that I would have terrible breath. Like a kayak going down a waterfall, I gently slid to the floor. The hard, splintered floor scraped at my feet and I was grateful that I had not lost my socks in my sleep.
Quietly, as the other sleepy kids got up, I changed into my swimming suit. Since the temperature outside was just about forty degrees, and the fog was just starting to lick our camp, I put on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater over my swimming gear. Soon enough, (because the others wanted to dawdle) we all gathered outside of the cabin and distributed some flashlights “evenly” across the monotonous group. Sluggishly, we maneuvered our way through camp, towards the lake.
I can’t recall what all happened in that time, (after all they never gave me a flashlight) except that someone tripped and spontaneously decided to take me with them. I do remember, though, (quite clearly) after rolling down some rugged terrain and blindly crashing into a pine tree, (with all flashlights on me) picking my slightly bruised face up off the dirt…
After a dwarf amount of time, we arrived at the edge of the lake. By that time, we could slightly see each other’s drone faces. Everyone in the group looked like a zombie in their own, freakish way, so I started acting on my own, ignoring their obscured stares. I was going swimming one way or the other, and I was not about to let the fact that I was surrounded by half-zombie kids ruin that. I set my sweater on a large boulder and shivered. The air was like a snake coiling around its victim in strong pulses. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop me; I continued to dress down into my swimming gear, until at last, I kicked off my shoes and tip-toed to the water’s edge.
I stuck my foot into the lake fearlessly, and gasped. Could I really be in the middle of the woods at five o’clock in the morning, and step into a lake that feels like a… hot tub? It did! The lake was so terrifically warm and I was so outstandingly cold; I just jumped into the water and plunged downward, letting the warmth generate around me in small waves. I was so happy and the whole trip had been worth it. After surfacing, I held my arm out of the water to tell the zombies to hurry up, and my skin was steaming. I felt so great, that I forgot about the rest of the world, and I could care less if they came or stayed. I was totally at ease, and that’s a feeling I will never forget.

Cole

Cody