Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you donโt realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Only Jack by Kagelynn Moyer (good book recommendations TXT) ๐
- Author: Kagelynn Moyer
Book online ยซThe Only Jack by Kagelynn Moyer (good book recommendations TXT) ๐ยป. Author Kagelynn Moyer
it all started with a bulitt, one hit one shot, I was swimming to shore with I got a bulit in the leg. I was screaming once I got on land. I fell to blackness, when I awoke I was on a boat, black sails, I don't know what to think of it ,but I have seen this ship before, once as a kid, my father saild it once, so I heard.
when I got up, my tummy was emty, I looked every where for some rum or food, I could not find any, I got struked down, and a great big shaddow apeard in frunt of me eyes, it was barbosa, my tummy started to hurt. he threw an apple at me.told me to "eat up" then laughed.
he told me he know's my father. that this once was his ship. I screamed up in ageer knowing he stold it from him.
allthough I know nothing of me father, but his name, Jack Sparrow. I know that he knows of me, and that I'm like him, I am a girl yet great at sord fighting, love rum, I run away, yet I'm brave.I always find my self running though.
I feel sad yet happy at the same time.
life is passing, and I want it to stop.
I keep yelling and screeming to stop the clock.
but the hand keeps moving.
when I was a kid I wouls stare at the time to get it to stop.
I thought it went slower when yee stare at it but now I know I can't do what I thought I chould any-more.
as I write more and more I feel more of me- self. I know that I haven't wrote as much as It looks but I feel like I have peace now.
but I am going to till look for me father.
as a child the years go fast, but now as I am 16 I am no longer a chiled but me own person.
Publication Date: 05-17-2011
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