((I wrote this for English class, and if you haven't read the story 'The Lottery' by Sherily Jackson you won't understand it too much.))


I shielded my eyes from the blinding light as I woke up that morning. I sighed heavily as I drew the covers back and swung my legs out of bed and onto the cold floor. I put on my wool slippers before shuffling over to the window that faced the twon square. The thick velvet curtains that hung over that window were hardly ever open, except on that day. It had been a long fifteen years since I had last visited that square.
Shying again, I opened the musty, navy blue cutains just wide enough for me to look outside. A few children were already gathering in the square below my window. I tuned away, letting the cutain fall and swing back into place. I quickly changed into a dress that used to belong to my mother before she had been killed. As soon as I was dressed I walked down the steps to the kitchen.
My younger brother was sitting at the kitchen table, looking outside the window, towards the town square. "Have they started yet, Dave?" I asked, moving my medium colored brown hair out of my eyes. My little brother, who used to be called 'Little Davy', was not so little any more. At the age of nineteen my brother was much taller then me, and he was able to pull from the Black Box.
"Not yet Nancy, but they are going to start soon," Dave replied.
"I wish that they should burn in hell. There is no reason for them doing that fifteen years ago!" I shouted to no one, not even Dave. I slammed my hand down on the wooden table that Dave was sitting at. Dave jumped a little but didn't say anything. It was always this way with me. All of a sudden I started shaking and crying. "There was no reason for her to be killed...Then Father three years afterwards...IT'S NOT FAIR!" I shouted, slamming my fist down again.
"Life isn't fair. Nancy, she won the lottery, therefore she must be killed," Dave whispered to me.
"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! YOU NEVER REALLY KNEW HER! YOU EVEN HELPED KILL HER!" I shouted, crying harder.
"I was four!" Dave protested.
"That's not an excuse," I said curtly, turning away from him, still shaking. "I was twelve when she died, then fifteen when Father won. What makes you think that anything that you say about life not being fair will make it better? This lottery is so incredibly stupid that it makes me sic...But ever since that Old Man Warner died of heart attack they had slowly started to get rid of the lottery, but no fast enough...After three years you would think that it would be done and over with..." I whispered, stopping my crying, but not my shaking.
I heard Dave move his chair backwards and walk across the wooden floor. I heard him open the door and then close it. I automatically knew where he was going...The Lottery. I ran as fast as I could up the stairs and towards my room, upon doing so, pulling back the dark blue curtains as far as they would go for the first time in almost twelve years.
I opened my window just enough for sound to drift up to me on the wind. I pulled up a chair and listened to the words...Each name being called, each back of the head walking forward to the black box. Soon I was having trouble hearing all the talking so I opened my window all the way. Then every one opened the papers. I held my breath as my brother held up his paper. I gasped when I noticed the black dot in the middle...No I thought.
Next would be all of Dave's family. His wife and two children...All four of them went up and took out a piece of paper. I couldn't stand just sitting up in my room watching this. I ran down the stairs even faster then normal and ran out my door just as they opened their papers. Then the black dot was held up by a single hand.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed as the first rock hit the boy in the head and he fell. I ran over to the body with the bleeding head and moved his hair away from his eyes. There was still just a little bit of colour left in his face and his ees weren't glazed over yet. I started crying again as I fell to my knees next to his head and kissed his forehead.
"You're right, Dave, life isn't fair," I whispered to my brother before his eyes and face lost its last colour.

(I wrote this when I was around 10, so it is kind of bad. This is just the beginning of chapter one, cause I didn't finish the story.)



I ran. I ran upon sticks, leaves and burrs. Even though my feet were bleeding, I kept running. Soon I heard galloping hooves behind me, my fear straining my body to stay. Men with torches shouting “A slave has escaped!” Were on my trail, I could hear the gentle howls of the hounds signaling they’re masters of my presence. I slowly slipped in a hollow log…letting my hands find some mud and rubbing it over my face and body, hoping to hide my scent. I quietly signaled for the other kids to join me. I stared into the darkness, my black hair waving in the wind…my skin almost invisible. I saw Tymme climb from behind a tree and join her. Tymme is a slave that came from Africa, separated from his friends and family. Tymme was holding Anne; a baby that not like them had pale skin…Anne had been born into a black family like everyone I knew, except for my masters. I smiled, as Tymme did too. Tymme said “Can we do that again?” I shook my head; they had to get north where they could be free and not slaves at this awful place. Tymme watched the torches fade into the night, and knew they had given up for now…but they would soon be back after them. My smile faded as I said “My da told me there was an old feller up in this woods that could help us.” Tymme nodded, understanding they would have to move quick, and stealthily. They headed out of the log, when suddenly Anne woke up, her eyes wide with happiness as she pointed up the hill “Doggy.” She said and giggled. We quickly turned, only to see a wolf. I recognized him as Feather…I whistled to him and he ran up to me and licked my face. I then stared off into the distance, noticing for the first time that there were 3 sets of eyes watching us. I stared at them, and out came two European women, and a small child. They smiled at us and said “I have been looking for you; a wise old monk told me you would be here. I never thought I’d find you until I heard a whistle.” I looked at the women, curiously. Then the next women spoke, this time in a language I had never heard before but understood. “Lujha Fitya Sieca Duengie. You are the children of the fire.” I understood why those men had given up so easily….they were afraid of me. I quietly started walking toward them…the women handed her, Tymme, and Anne a amulet…..one emblemed with a women with fiery, red, orange, and yellow hair. She almost seemed to be smiling upon us. I then said with confusement “Why didn’t you come find us sooner?” The two women stared down at the small child with them, and for the first time I noticed the child’s bright red eyes. The small child said “We could not reach you; we did not know you were a slave. We tried to convince you’re masters that we had to take you, but they wouldn’t even let us buy or trade for you…I think they understood you’re powers and were going to use you to get more money than Britain over you, we only had so little that they could tell by my eyes that if they captured me then and there they would have even more money, but we didn’t let them…we stole in the cupboard when they were rounding up troops after they noticed you’re absence and went to see us to our slavery. When they didn’t find us they went out to see if any other slaves had escaped, that chance we took….we made a loud noise to distract the searchers and hid in the water. I am you’re brother.” I took a deep breath, sure I knew I was different than the other slaves….I mean I did blow up a few buildings and blasted a couple pigs on fire, but I just thought that was normal for any slaved child. Tymme and Anne had done the same.