<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:45:10.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emma's Words</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-5420457381047040303</id><published>2008-07-14T18:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T18:28:58.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry People</title><content type='html'>I'm editing Fallen Angel again. My writers block chain broke and I have fresh ideas. Send my blog to people and send me comments! I need them! And I am keeping the first sloppy copy chapter this time. Enjoy! By the way..... SEND ME COMMENTS!!!!!! (please?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-5420457381047040303?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/5420457381047040303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=5420457381047040303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5420457381047040303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5420457381047040303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/07/sorry-people.html' title='Sorry People'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-2054639953659934441</id><published>2008-07-01T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T19:44:50.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallen Angel-Chapter One- Part Three</title><content type='html'>Daniel gripped my hands softly as he lead me to the swings. His skin was still cold, it made my hand ache for warmth. He stopped in front of the swing set and let go of my hand. He patted the swing where I was to sit, after I took it he sat in the one next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, Daniel..." I couldn't finish my sentence before he interrupted, "Call me Danny," he said with a smile. "Okay, and you may call me Lizzy." I said with a friendly smile in return. His smile broadened. "Anyway, I haven't seen you around here before. Did you just move here?" I said, pushing off of the ground so that I swung back and forth. His smile disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny didn't answer, but stared at the ground. It was like he didn't know what to say. So I allowed him to thing and pumped my legs so that I was swinging higher and higher. Was he shy or something. He didn't seem to be to shy when he was practically dragging me here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally answered, "Yes, I moved here a few weeks ago," he said, watching me fly higher and swing back down again. "It took you that long to come up with that as an answer?" I said incredulously. His eyes followed me as I swung up and down, over and over. "What?" I exclaimed, "You look like you might fall of at any moment," he replied, watching me anxiously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretended to ignore him, "Every thing is so tiny up here!" I yelled sarcastically. I giggled but Danny didn't find it too funny. "So, Danny. Where did you move from?" I asked him, the swing jerked when ever it reached it's farthest point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun was shining on Danny's face now, he shielded himself with his hands. He had a look of disgust played across his face. "Ugh! It's so sunny here!" he said angrily. I swooped passed him and flew back up into the air. "What were you expecting, your in Grendale, California. It's always sunny here," I said swooping passed him again. I thought I heard him growl. "What ever, I don't like it." he hissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You still haven't answered my question," I said, leaning back so far that my long red hair was inches from the ground. "I moved from Alaska," he said bitterly. "Alaska huh? Well no wonder you like the cold," he smiled at the mention of the word cold. "Yes, I like cold and dark," he said with a vicious smile. I suddenly realized that I was supposed to be at home right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no!" I said. I had been leaning back, and lost my balance. I fell off of the swing and landed in the wood chips and dirt with a hard &lt;em&gt;thump&lt;/em&gt;. Danny gasped and jumped from his swing. He stopped my swing with one of his hands as he quickly knelt down beside me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lizzy? Lizzy are you okay?" I could hear fear in his voice. He lifted my head gently studying my face. "I'm okay," I croaked, blinking hard. He sighed with relief. "Maybe you should go home and lie down," he said, helping me stand. I took me first step, feeling a little dizzy, but soon regaining coordination, continued to walk. "Um... Lizzy?" Danny said from behind me. "Yeah?" I said, turning my head slowly for it still ached a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Would you like to meet me here tomorrow, same time? We can sit on the bench in the shade over there," he offered, with a sheepish smile. "Yeah, okay," I said with a nod. Danny's smile returned. "Cool, see you tomorrow then" he waved and turned around. I walked down to the sidewalk and looked over my shoulder. Danny was already gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-2054639953659934441?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/2054639953659934441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=2054639953659934441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2054639953659934441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2054639953659934441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/07/fallen-angel-chapter-one-part-three.html' title='Fallen Angel-Chapter One- Part Three'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-7165703693612233763</id><published>2008-06-30T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T18:52:00.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallen Angel-Chapter One- Part Two</title><content type='html'>I was in front of my house when I noticed that there was a boy walking away from the park that was across the street from my house. He was a little taller than I was, me being five foot four inches, with coal black hair, and frightfully pale skin, his t-shirt was black with blue jeans and navy sneakers. He made a beautiful morning look depressing. He looked so familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked up and down the street, and then down at an untied shoe on his left foot. I watched how gracefully he tied a neat bow with the two laces. He stood once more and looked across the street, his eyes landed on me. A curious look aroused in his eyes. He smiled the most perfect smile that I'd ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so deep in his handsome features that I hadn't noticed that he was making his way over to me. I still studied his face as he stopped in front of me. He had pale blue eyes, and his black hair had light brown high lights in it. "Hello," his voice was soft, like a chorus of angels. "I'm Daniel Wilson," he said, sticking out a pale hand. I shook it in return, his skin soft yet cold and frigid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi," I said breathlessly. He glanced down at my hand still firmly grasping his. He chuckled, using his free hand to remove my steel grip. He handled it so gently, I was quite surprised that he didn't need &lt;em&gt;pliers &lt;/em&gt;to remove my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmm... I heard a hello, but... I didn't hear a name," he said sweetly, smiling yet another perfect smile. It took me a moment to regain brain power, before managing to speak again. "I'm Elizabeth. Elizabeth Frederick," I said quietly. Uh oh, I had dork written all over me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well Elizabeth Frederick, it's very nice to meet you. Join me?" he said motioning to the now empty park just yards away. "I thought you just left there," I said. He continued to smile broadly. "No, just passing by. So, will you care to accompany me to the swings?" he studied my bewildered face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I... Um..." should I go with this stranger, or stay in the safety of my home? He looked up from my face to the tan house behind us. "Oh, I apologize. I caught you as you were going home. No matter, you probably don't want to follow a stranger anyway," and exactly how did he know that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's alright, maybe I can get to know more about you," I said swiftly. I was telling the truth, I needed more information on this guy. He beamed, and grabbed my hand. And before I new what was happening, he was leading me to the park.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-7165703693612233763?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/7165703693612233763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=7165703693612233763&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/7165703693612233763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/7165703693612233763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/06/fallen-angel-chapter-one-part-two_30.html' title='Fallen Angel-Chapter One- Part Two'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-5499493905437429028</id><published>2008-06-30T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T16:42:16.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallen Angel-Chapter One- Part One</title><content type='html'>"I remember it so clearly Sandy," I told my best friend as we were sitting in her front yard, enjoying the first day of summer vacation. It was very mild Friday morning, in the 80's and dry. Tipical I sat picking a the green grass surrounding me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tan khakis, light blue tank top and blue flip flops kept me at the perfect temperature. Sandy Pearson however, was wearing plaid pajama pants, and a white t-shirt that had her name written in large block letters. Not the usual summer fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked up at me. "How can you be so sure it means something?" she was on her stomach, picking at the grass as well. "But it felt so &lt;em&gt;real" &lt;/em&gt;I said, now looking up at the cloudless blue sky. We were discussing a dream I had the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dark figure, a boy to be exact, confronted me and said 'I'm coming' before he vanished and I woke up. I never saw his face, but I knwe he was a boy. "I don't know Liz, maybe it was a mind trick," she said, picking some grass off of her elbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about her statement. I sighed, "Me? Elizabeth Frederick, playing mind tricks on myself?" I raised my eyebrows. Sandy looked up at me. "Maybe, it happens to me all of the time ," she said as she sat up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kicked off my flip flops. I stood up and paced the length of her small front yard. " Hmm.... 'I'm coming' what would it mean? Hmm...." I finally stopped in front of Sandy. I pursed my lips, then a conclusion came to me. "Do you think it's like a &lt;em&gt;sign&lt;/em&gt;? Like he's coming, coming for &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;? Or maybe we... we are supposed to meet or something," I said, now talking to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sandy stood up too. "Come on Liz, you're twelve. Aren't you a little too old to be talking to yourself?" she crossed her arms over her chest and brushed a strand of her long dirty blond hair behind her ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why I never...." I said under my breath, starting to chase after her, she was pretty fast, but no match for me. My long legs were perfect for running. We ran around in circles until I tackled her to the ground. We scrambeled for a little bit until Sandy's Mom called her in for lunch. We got up, laughing so hard our stomachs were sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll come by later, 'kay Liz?" Sandy said, opening the door to go inside. "Alright, see you later," I waved and began to jog back to my house, which was only four doors down. Who would have known that I would have a delay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-5499493905437429028?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/5499493905437429028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=5499493905437429028&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5499493905437429028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5499493905437429028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/06/fallen-angel-chapter-one-part-one.html' title='Fallen Angel-Chapter One- Part One'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-754708797213153711</id><published>2008-06-30T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T11:37:13.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have decided to edit the first chapter of Fallen Angel. For now you have the first two parts of the first chapter as a sample. I'll post the new first chapter as soon as possible. But for now enjoy the first draft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-754708797213153711?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/754708797213153711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=754708797213153711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/754708797213153711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/754708797213153711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-have-decided-to-edit-first-chapter-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-5876708732822558980</id><published>2008-06-12T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T18:56:22.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just to let you know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;Each chapter of Fallen Angel will have at least four parts. I'll post each part whenever I can so that you can keep reading.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-5876708732822558980?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/5876708732822558980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=5876708732822558980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5876708732822558980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5876708732822558980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-to-let-you-know.html' title='Just to let you know'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-657429775152235689</id><published>2008-05-27T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T15:32:29.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Keeper!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;New book people. This one is definitely a keeper! I'm writing a new book called &lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Fallen Angel&lt;/span&gt;. It's title is a little off setting but, you'll understand more once you read it. It's a book about vampires, inspired by the book Twilight. I'll be posting each chapter on my blog, one at a time. I want to know what you think about it. And I want the truth, if it's no good, then tell me! As many comments as possible if you please! Send suggestions, comments, and tell me if you think it's a good story. Send it to people &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that I know&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and get their&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;comments as well. Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-657429775152235689?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/657429775152235689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=657429775152235689&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/657429775152235689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/657429775152235689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-keeper.html' title='It&apos;s a Keeper!'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-4785439226885123846</id><published>2008-02-07T06:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T06:25:05.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella's Diary: February 7th</title><content type='html'>Dear Diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         My family says another holiday is coming up..... Valentines Day. They say it's one of those holidays that is a bigger deal for big people. Emma says it's a mushy holiday, with jewerly, chocolates, cards, and kissing and stuff. I kiss my family all of the time. This morning I kissed me mommy's face and she said stop because it tickled. They also make a big deal out of when I kiss their feet. But that's was I do, I'm a dog! Aside from kisses, I also sit of them. Lauren is not my favorite coushion, she wriggles and giggles too much. Emma, on the other hand, makes it so that she's just as comfy as I am when I sit on her. She pets me and lets me sleep with my head in her lap, I may weigh 90, or something like that, pounds, but she doesn't mind. I think I might give her extra kisses on V' Day. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-4785439226885123846?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/4785439226885123846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=4785439226885123846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4785439226885123846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4785439226885123846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/02/bellas-diary-february-7th.html' title='Bella&apos;s Diary: February 7th'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-8736782264040092484</id><published>2008-02-03T17:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T17:39:41.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella's Diary, January 3rd</title><content type='html'>Today is Super Bowl 42. I don't know why people like it, I prefer the Puppy Bowl. Everybody in my house was making food that smelled good! Meatballs, samiches, wrap thingys. Yummy! But I couldn't have anythin'. I had cookies though, I like cookies. They taste like jerky, I like jerky. Jerky's nummy! I like tuna too, it makes me gassy, but I like it. Mommy took pictures of me, when I was tryin' to nap! Grrrr....  I work so hard, doin' nothing..... :-D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-8736782264040092484?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/8736782264040092484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=8736782264040092484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/8736782264040092484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/8736782264040092484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/02/bellas-diary-january-3rd.html' title='Bella&apos;s Diary, January 3rd'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-1344171974235922911</id><published>2008-01-19T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T09:54:41.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dream Cronicles: Romance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;    Jack popped out of his day dream so suddenly that he startled himself. He was sitting on a cloud, the sun setting in front of him. The sky was pink and purple, it was beautiful. "Jack." A smooth voice was calling him, it was a woman's voice. "Jack." It sounded so familiar. So hypnotic, he turned around. "Cheryl!" he said, staring at his friend. She looked different, she had a silky white dress on, that shimmered in the sunlight. Her feet were bare, her blond hair was brushed back. A tiny white flower tucked behind her ear. She looked beautiful, in fact she made Jack feel pretty stupid in his jeans and white t-shirt. "Hello Jack, how are ya?" he forgotten about the fact that he was sitting on a cloud completely. "I'm fine, and you?" "Yes, I'm well." Jack smiled, he felt so weird, but he didn't know why. "You look really pretty." he said, wanting to break the awkward silence. Cheryl blushed, "Thank you." she said, with a wide smile. "And you look, well..." "Yeah I know like I just woke up." said Jack. She giggled. Cheryl walked over to him and sat down, she smiled at him. His brain felt like it was melting, he couldn't look at her with out feeling so, weird, he couldn't explain it. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why is she making me feel so... confused? &lt;/span&gt;"Isn't the sunset so beautiful? The sky with it's purple and pink highlights, it's so......" Cheryl bit her lip, like she was trying to stop herself from saying something embarrassing. "Romantic?" said Jack, it made his stomach lurch. "Uh huh." Cheryl said, she turned away. She turned back after a while, she looked kind of scared. "What's wrong?" He asked, reaching for her hand. "Nothing, I don't know, I feel so weird." He took hold of her hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She blushed and hugged him. "I do too, but it's okay, why don't we just watch the sunset?" Cheryl smiled. "Okay." She kissed him and then rested her head on his shoulder. They smiled and watch the sun set. After a while, everything began to blur, Cheryl disappeared, so did everything else. Jack woke up. "That was freaky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-1344171974235922911?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/1344171974235922911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=1344171974235922911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1344171974235922911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1344171974235922911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/01/dream-cronicles-romance.html' title='The Dream Cronicles: Romance'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-2243728350122503934</id><published>2008-01-18T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T18:17:47.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dream Cronicles: Scary</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Elicia ran, she ran as fast as she could. Trees whipped past her, it was getting closer. She heard the creature roar behind her. "No!" She screamed, she ran faster. Branches lashing her face. The pain was nothing compared to her fear. The roaring was louder now. "No! Please no!" She screamed back at the large monster gaining speed. She knew she would never be able to match it's speed, with out thinking, she dived out of it's path and into some bushes. She heard the creature's roar as it kept running in the path she was no longer on. The pain began to grow as the fear faded away. The scratches on her face started to sting with pain. She rubbed her cheeks, and bent down to catch her breath. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What was that thing?! &lt;/span&gt;she thought wearily. Her legs felt like pudding, and before she could stop herself she collapsed onto the hard, dirt, floor. She looked around at the dark eerie forest. Everything was silent. In fact, too silent. She stood up and looked around, straining her ears for even the slightest sound of a twig snapping. And then, she heard it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;crunch.&lt;/span&gt; She slowly turned around to see her friend Julie looking at her. "Oh, Julie it's you, I thought it was the..... Well I'm not sure what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt; is."  said Elicia. "You saw it too?" said Julie, in a small voice. "Yes, what is it Julie? What is that thing?" Julie looked uncertain, she stared at her feet. That's always what she did when she was thinking. "I don't know, but I did get a clear view of it. It's body was built like a bull's. A very large bull, and it's skin. It's skin was teal, dark and teal. It's head had tentacles, and sharp, dangerous teeth." she paused, her breathing was faster now. "Oh Elicia, it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;horrible,&lt;/span&gt; and ugly. I was so scared." she said, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. "It's okay Julie, it's gone now. We'll be okay." But she was wrong. A few moments later, after the girls began walking to try and find away out of the forest, the roaring began once again. Elicia looked through the trees, searching for the monster. There it was, about 400 yards away. It stared her straight in the eye, she was filled with horror, and couldn't move. "Elicia! Elicia run!"cried Julie as the monster began to charge at her.  "Run! Run! Please Elicia, come on, run!!" Julie tugged at her arm, but she wouldn't budge. The monster got closer and closer, now it was 200 yards away. "Elicia! Elicia! Elicia please!!" Julie voice began to fade, and Elicia's vision slowly went too. Then all of it was gone. That's when she woke up to the bright morning sun shining in her window. The nightmare was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-2243728350122503934?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/2243728350122503934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=2243728350122503934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2243728350122503934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2243728350122503934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2008/01/dream-cronicles-scary.html' title='The Dream Cronicles: Scary'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-6010788919591005156</id><published>2007-12-07T19:49:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T08:25:12.404-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella's Diary, December 7th</title><content type='html'>Dear Diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The family says that Fridays are the best day of the week, for me, it's just another day. But, the nice thing is that for the next couple days Mommy and Lauren and Emma are always home. No school, nothing, just family time. Anyway, because I don't have to go anywhere like my family does, I don't have the same schedule, but I do have my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wake up&lt;br /&gt;2. Try to wake up Mommy&lt;br /&gt;3. If Mommy doesn't wake up go upstairs and bother the girls by jumping on their beds or licking    their faces.&lt;br /&gt;4. Eat my breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;5. Go Potty&lt;br /&gt;6. Spend time with Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    And um, that's about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-6010788919591005156?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/6010788919591005156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=6010788919591005156&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/6010788919591005156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/6010788919591005156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/12/bellas-diary-december-7th.html' title='Bella&apos;s Diary, December 7th'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-1925307116717797336</id><published>2007-12-05T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T16:00:04.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella's Diary, December 5th</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Dear Diary,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;    Today the family put up a big tree with lights and pretty decorations. They call it a Christmas Tree. As they were putting up the last of the pretty decoration thingys, I came over to look out the window but the tree was in my way, so I tried to squeeze past it. Somebody told me to stop, and when I turned around I heard a clinking noise of something falling. I never got a chance to see what that thing was because my Mommy shooed me away like this, "Out out out out out!". So I made like a tree and got myself outa there. Note to self, Mommy gets mad when I try to squeeze past the tree.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-1925307116717797336?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/1925307116717797336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=1925307116717797336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1925307116717797336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1925307116717797336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/12/bellas-diary-december-5th.html' title='Bella&apos;s Diary, December 5th'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-939498927085369528</id><published>2007-12-05T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T16:01:57.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I will be starting a section about my dog called Bella's Diary. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-939498927085369528?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/939498927085369528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=939498927085369528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/939498927085369528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/939498927085369528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-will-now-be-starting-section-called.html' title=''/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-8372956517110466388</id><published>2007-08-06T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T10:11:15.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ireland</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;My two weeks in Ireland, with my younger sister and Dad, was rainy, sunny, and REALLY FUN!! I went there for my Grandma's Birthday, we had a party on Saturday, and the funny thing was, it lasted until about 9:30 AM the next day! My sister and I had gone to sleep at about midnight, my Dad came in at six, to go to sleep. The one who stayed up the latest, was my uncle's girlfriend, Mary, she had been up cleaning. Not only was it a celebration for my Grandma's birthday, but it was Mary's as well! And that's not even the beginning of my crazy but AWESOME vacation. But if I explain the whole thing, we might be hear for a while. To make a long story short, we relaxed until the party, then relaxed after the party. Went out to dinner a couple of times, and saw the 5Th Harry Potter at some point. It was really good. The day before we left, we went to a farm, fed animals, and had loads of fun!! And that was my vacation!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-8372956517110466388?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/8372956517110466388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=8372956517110466388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/8372956517110466388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/8372956517110466388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/08/ireland.html' title='Ireland'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-2158253606847089163</id><published>2007-07-14T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T19:57:57.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary: The Bully</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;The Radical Elementary students are victims of cruelty when&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Joey Shear&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;strolls down the halls. Why? Why, do you ask they're victims,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Joey Shear&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;is the schools&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;#1 Bully&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;. And yes I capitalized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;Bully&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;because here at Radical Elementary, The Bully is a big thing, and call the Principal&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;crazy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;but, he actually gives the best Bully an award. Yes, I know, it's nuts, but it's just how this school functions. But anyway,&lt;/span&gt; Joey Shear &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;was held back&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;three years, he's supposed to be in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;7Th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;, but instead he's in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Fourth&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;He's Five feet and three inches of pure&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;EVIL!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;And...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Uh Oh.. Oh No! Here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;he comes! He's coming for me!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Okay, I'll finish this later, because right now I have to run away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;TTFN! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-2158253606847089163?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/2158253606847089163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=2158253606847089163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2158253606847089163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2158253606847089163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/07/radical-elementary-bully.html' title='Radical Elementary: The Bully'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-4824047699495251789</id><published>2007-07-12T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T19:18:18.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary: The Class Clown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Everybody says that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Class Clowns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;are a natural balance of a sophisticated classroom, or at least every one&lt;em&gt; I&lt;/em&gt; know. For example, the Class Clown in my classroom is Dory Costner, she's  the kind of person who enjoys risking recess time, and making a gigantic fool out of herself, just for the simple pleasure of hearing her fellow class mates laugh at her. I of course wouldn't dare do that, for I can't really think of getting &lt;/span&gt;a &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;detention, trapped inside a blank, white, desk filled room with&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;THE&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;POSTERS OF KNOWLEDGE"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;from  corner to corner, would be&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;absolute&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;TORTURE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; !!!!! Just sitting there, no fresh air, so sounds of&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;kids screaming in glee or a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;" TAG YOU'RE A FISH STICK "&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;would put me into depression. I'm actually amazed Dory can live through it, but Dory is&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Dory. And I'm me, and you're you, and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt; "THAT'S ALL FOLKS!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-4824047699495251789?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/4824047699495251789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=4824047699495251789&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4824047699495251789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4824047699495251789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/07/radical-elementary-class-clown.html' title='Radical Elementary: The Class Clown'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-1799001759845735095</id><published>2007-06-21T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T20:04:30.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary; The Subtitute Teacher</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Today our teacher didn't come to Room 134, instead a new woman came in, she called herself Mrs. Snitchengroober. She looked very nice, but &lt;em&gt;Snitchengroober&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; ???&lt;/strong&gt; Come on! That name is not most common. Kids liked her very much, but made fun of her name. Actually, she was almost just like Mrs. Bologna, except for the fact that she had freckles on her nose, red hair with dirty blond high lights, and was expecting a baby in 3 months. She was very nice though, had a few strange mood swings because of her child, but she was very nice. She said we were so nice to her, and so obediant, that she got each of us a cookie from the bakery her husband runs. The cookies were delicious!! Everyone said so, it was awsome, she was awsome! Just like Mrs. Bologna!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-1799001759845735095?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/1799001759845735095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=1799001759845735095&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1799001759845735095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1799001759845735095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/06/radical-elementary-subtitute-teacher.html' title='Radical Elementary; The Subtitute Teacher'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-4040730145314596183</id><published>2007-06-19T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T19:30:34.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary: The new kid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's a new kid at Radical Elementary, and his name is David Anderson. David doesn't seem too happy about Radical Elementary, I'm sure he would've gotten used to it if Martha Jones hadn't walked up to him and asked him if he carried a DNA sample because she wanted to see if she could clone him and then turn the clone into an ape. Martha Jones scares me, she's the kind of person who probably won't end up with a roommate in college because she does experiments with hazardous chemicals and electronic devices. For her science project once she tried to turn a pickle  into a chicken. It didn't go so well, Billy Martin was standing next to her, and when her mixture exploded, he ended up going to the hospital with a green chicken head. Billy Martin doesn't go here any more. But any way, David did what anyone would do if Martha said that to them, he looked at her like she was a crazy person with dynamite and ran of at full speed. Martha stood there for a second, then she took out a pack of ketchup, a bag of pop rocks, and a bottle of coke, mixed them together, chugged it a top speed, and then  burped so loud she broke the windows and Barney Davidson's glasses. Boy am I glad I don't go to&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;chemistry with her, she has to have a super visor to make sure she doesn't blow the room up. Well that's all for now&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-4040730145314596183?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/4040730145314596183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=4040730145314596183&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4040730145314596183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4040730145314596183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/06/radical-elementary-new-kid.html' title='Radical Elementary: The new kid'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-5188208154282506396</id><published>2007-06-13T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T16:26:51.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Greetings from California! I'm here at my grandma's house, and I call her Mammie, don't ask me why because I'm not too sure, but that's what we call her. My grandma's house is beautiful, she has a nice big back yard, with a pool, and a swing, a vegetable garden with cabbage, tomatoes, eggplant,, sweet peas, peppers, zucchini,cucumbers, and then there's strawberries, honeydew melon, cantaloupe, and herbs. I love it here, the weather is beautiful, and I have two dogs to play with.  California is the BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-5188208154282506396?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/5188208154282506396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=5188208154282506396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5188208154282506396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5188208154282506396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-vacation.html' title='My Vacation'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-2587898084207178803</id><published>2007-06-05T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T19:03:41.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My room</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;After about two years of sharing a room with my six year old sister, Lauren, she's moving out of it, and into the spare room. Now my room, which is slightly larger than Lauren's, feels a bit empty and dull, but soon it's walls will be the color I want them to be, and covered in posters. I am a tomboy of simple pleasures, but picky when it comes to choosing the color of my room perfectly, because my room will be a room I sleep, and spend time in, if the color isn't right, it won't be a room that fits me, there for, I won't spend as much time in it. So I'll customize it, and soon you'll really be able to call it "&lt;em&gt;my room".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-2587898084207178803?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/2587898084207178803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=2587898084207178803&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2587898084207178803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2587898084207178803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-room.html' title='My room'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-443506220055765758</id><published>2007-05-31T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:51:48.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary story 3, part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;This school is officially awsome! I love it here! We have the best classes ever, art ofcourse being big sense the founder was an artist. I LOVE IT HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-443506220055765758?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/443506220055765758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=443506220055765758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/443506220055765758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/443506220055765758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/radical-elementary-story-3-part-1.html' title='Radical Elementary story 3, part 1'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-9058128546648450649</id><published>2007-05-31T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T05:55:25.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary story two, part two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; Gym period is among us, and usually I like gym period, but at this school we could be forced to do anything. John told me there was nothing to worry about, but he really likes hard work and has been here a long time, he could be used to hard labor in gym. Okay, we're on the field now, nothing is set up so there's a good chance we're going to have to run a lot. " Hello, my name is Mr. Artichoke, I am your new gym teacher. Today I would like you to say the alphabet please, and then play Marco Polo. Now, get started." It was&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;so&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;easy! After gym period was over we all went back to class. Okay now this school ROCKS !!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-9058128546648450649?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/9058128546648450649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=9058128546648450649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/9058128546648450649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/9058128546648450649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/radical-elementary-story-two-part-two.html' title='Radical Elementary story two, part two'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-4796228447892463876</id><published>2007-05-30T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T15:00:03.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary Story two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Our first class, math. It isn't so bad, Mrs. Bologna told us to figure 10 problems that equal &lt;em&gt;booger.&lt;/em&gt; I've only found one, that everyone in the class has probably figured by now, it's so easy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;playing in the rain + staying in wet clothes for a long time = cold , which = boogers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Mrs. Bologna is&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;REALLY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;nice, she's in her late twentys and is very pretty. I like this place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-4796228447892463876?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/4796228447892463876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=4796228447892463876&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4796228447892463876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/4796228447892463876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/radical-elementary-story-two.html' title='Radical Elementary Story two'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-3991095602044609206</id><published>2007-05-30T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T06:00:50.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary story one, part two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; This school really is weird! Inside it looks like a practical school, with a expensive touch to it. And everyone is walking around with their backpacks on their heads like hats, their books are piled up on their backpacks, and everyone was carrying a red pepper! The first person I saw I asked politely, " Excuse me, but why does everyone have a red peppers?" Then he said politely, " They're for our teachers, you must be new here, I've never seen you before." I nodded. " Well," he said, " my name is John, I've been here sense kindergarten, I know the school like the back of my hand. This year, I have Mrs. Bologna, who do you have?" "I have Mrs. Bologna too." I said. " Okay, " said John, " How about we get you a pepper, there's a vending machine of veggies just over there". After John got my pepper for Mrs. Bologna, we walked and talked to class, he explained about how the founder of the school was a crazy artist who eventually got help at a hospital, but the kids loved the school the way it was and went on strike to keep it as a school, most kids tackled national government agents to keep them from reporting to a bulldozer team. The history of the school was fascinating, maybe this place isn't so bad after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-3991095602044609206?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/3991095602044609206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=3991095602044609206&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/3991095602044609206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/3991095602044609206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/radical-elementary-story-one-part-two_30.html' title='Radical Elementary story one, part two'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-1097088714128656363</id><published>2007-05-29T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T14:29:20.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary Story one</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#006600;"&gt;Well, here I am, Radical Elementary.Wow, this must be the strangest school I've ever seen. It's, like a piece of art, it's swiveled, and striped with black. And it looks like it got caught in a merciless paintball fight. Am I in the right place? Yeah that giant polka dotted plank says Jeffery Radical Elementary School. Well that's the bell, better get inside now. I don't know about this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-1097088714128656363?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/1097088714128656363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=1097088714128656363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1097088714128656363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/1097088714128656363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/radical-elementary-story-one_29.html' title='Radical Elementary Story one'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-369192520197048003</id><published>2007-05-28T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T06:01:31.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Elementary, Story one, Part one</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hi, I'm Jack, I've just moved to this neighborhood and right now I feel fine.I just wish I didn't have to start school tomorrow, my new school is called Radical Elementary, a very strange name for a school if you ask me. Maybe I'll fake a terrible stomach flu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Radical Elementary, being a fictional and crazy school ,will still attended by it's fictional student during the summer for your entertainment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-369192520197048003?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/369192520197048003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=369192520197048003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/369192520197048003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/369192520197048003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/radical-elementary-story-one-part-one.html' title='Radical Elementary, Story one, Part one'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-5986367541228891928</id><published>2007-05-28T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T09:52:15.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Introduction for Radical Elementary</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Radical Elementary is a made up school filled with nothing but nonsense from top to bottom.Radical Elementary is basically a complete opposite of a real school. Enjoy wacky stories narrated by the new attendant at Radical Elementary, Jack Radcliffe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-5986367541228891928?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/5986367541228891928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=5986367541228891928&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5986367541228891928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5986367541228891928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/introduction-for-radical-elementary.html' title='The Introduction for Radical Elementary'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-5726652803719661570</id><published>2007-05-28T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T07:39:32.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Kid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Call me the normal kid, with an average, everyday life. Some how I'm still alive going through these last few weeks of school. I get out on June 6th, a short, two hour day, that, I'm sure of it, will begin screaming fits of joy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;when the bell rings and we're all finally&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;FREE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;! Ahhh. I can't wait. Sweet freedom in a matter of, oh, about five and one half to six days. So I will&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;say this once,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'M ALMOST FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-5726652803719661570?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/5726652803719661570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=5726652803719661570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5726652803719661570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/5726652803719661570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/just-kid_28.html' title='Just a Kid'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4457413847309590505.post-2777152578723508415</id><published>2007-05-28T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T07:50:14.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, Myself, and I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;My name is Emma, I am the middle child of three, well make that four.... my dog is technically my sister too, or at least my mom says that. My older sister Bri, lives in California with my grandma, Bri's eighteen and graduates in June. My younger sister Lauren, is six, and has an attitude that's going to her in trouble some day, and I know what you're thinking, a lot of kids have attitudes, but Lauren's can be serious. And my last sister, and my youngest, is Bella, my beautiful, two year old, sometimes a little bratty, Rottweiler. She's the sweetest dog and may growl or snap, but that's either for play, or when you're messing with her and she doesn't want to be messed with. Then there's my mom and dad, who love me and take care of me, help me when help is needed and win the number one parent award.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4457413847309590505-2777152578723508415?l=kreacherswords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/feeds/2777152578723508415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4457413847309590505&amp;postID=2777152578723508415&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2777152578723508415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4457413847309590505/posts/default/2777152578723508415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kreacherswords.blogspot.com/2007/05/me-myself-and-i.html' title='Me, Myself, and I'/><author><name>Emma's Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12922229084116046021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
