Tuesday, September 29, 2015

The Fortunate King

Ever read a Greek Myth (Or tried to read one) and got put off by the small text and lack of quote marks?
Well, part of my LA in homeschool this week was to add dialogue to a Greek Myth. I picked one out of my Greek Myth book (pictured below) that wasn't as common as Pandora's Box and The Origin of The Seasons. I picked The Fortunate King.
It's was very interesting to write it, and here it is.


THE FORTUNATE KING.

Admentus was the king of Pherae, Thessaly, he was thought to be the luckiest man in the world, he was young and strong, and he was the only son of a powerful dad, who passed his great kingdom down to him, he loved his gardens and wine, and sat in his gardens one day, sipping rare drink and reading a stone book.

Meanwhile, up in Olympus, Apollo, the god of poetry, wasn’t having such a good day. “But WHY!? Why do I have to live on Earth? I don’t deserve this! Do you want to live a whole year without my music?”
“Actually, yes, I would love to.” His twin sister, Artemis, said, she was a huntress, an inch taller than him, and thought him to be soft. “It would be nice not to hear you crooning on your little flute for a while.”
“IT’S A LYRE!!!”
“Whatever.”

Hermes, the messenger of the gods appeared, “Besides, Apollo, you deserve it, nobody should offend Zeus in any way, so that’s why you have to live a year on Earth as a human. By the way, you should be off by now. Goodbye.” He said, pulling a lever. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Apollo dissipated to the Earth below.
He landed near the palace of Admentus, and, watched as he enjoyed an afternoon meal alone.

Apollo took a like to this man, and used his powers to get him the most beautiful wife ever, Alcestis. Sitting on day in the gardens with his new wife, Admentus smiled, “Ahh, this is the life, I tell you.” He said. Suddenly Apollo appeared, “Hello,” He greeted him, and they both talked, you might think Admentus was surprised ant his sudden entrance, but at that time period, Greeks were very aware of gods, and considered it a pleasure to talk to them. The two instantly became friends, and they took an odd walk or two in the gardens whenever they could.

One day, when the sun was setting, Apollo said goodbye to Admentus and sat down on the edge of the cliff. It was a habit of his to talk to the animals that gathered around him, and that’s what he did today. “There’s something that’s bothering me,” he said to a bunny, “There is something that the Fates fortold, something that Admentus must know, tomorrow, when I meet him, I will have to tell him, and then I am afraid of what he’ll say.” The bunny looked at him curiously, then hopped away. Apollo sighed and went home.

The next day he was gaily sipping wine with Admentus when he cleared his throat.
“It’s… almost time for me to, uh, leave to Olympus now.”
“Really?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Oh.”
“And, before I go, which will be tonight, I gotta tell you something.”
“What?”
“Everybody calls you the luckiest man, but as you know, the Fates don’t really give that much good things.”
“Yes. And?”
“YOU’RE GOING TO DIE IN 12 MONTHS!!!!!” Apollo blurted out.
Admentus took a double take.
“What? No! No! No, this can’t be, Oh Dear!!! How can I change this?”
He paced with his head in his hands.
“WHY, WHY, WHY SHOULD I DIE!?”
“Wait!” Apollo put his hands in the air, trying to calm the king down.
“There is a way to change it, if someone else dies instead of you when the time comes, then you will live.”
The king sat down at tried to catch his breath.
“Okay, so, it’s easy peasy, right? Just try to ask someone to die instead of me, and I’ll live. Good plan, right, cos’ people would be honored to die for their good king, right?” He turned to look at Apollo, but no one was there.

The king made public to everyone that he would die, but no one would die for him, he journeyed to the most remote places, the most wretched men, and the filthiest villages. But no one would die for him. He asked his father, his mother, but still nobody.
It’s no mystery that no one called him the luckiest, most fortunate king anymore.

But in the night that ended the 12 months, his own wife took the knife to her heart, and she did it out of love, for the king never asked her to do it. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!” Ademtus cried and beat his fists on the ground, “Why? Why did this have to happen!?”
Then there was a knock on the door. Admentus opened it, it was Hercules, the great hero who had come to visit the king. Admentus loved the hero so much that he didn’t tell of the death, as not to dampen the great hero’s spirit. “Oh, hello hero! Sit down, my slaves will serve you while I rest in my chambers!” “Thanks, Admentus!”
The servants were different. Hercules watched them serve him with frowns and grimaces, but finally: He banged his fist down at the table, “Why do you not serve me as you should?! Why are your faces so creased with worry?!!?!” When they told him, through whispers and murmurs, he was appalled. “Wow, Admentus honored me so much that he pretended to be okay while he was really mourning?”

So, in gratitude for the great king, he traveled to Hades, and brought to Queen back, alive and well. As you can tell, there was A LOT of feasting and partying, and Admentus was once again called The Fortunate King.




Monday, September 7, 2015

My Favorite Place - Granny's Old House

Hi everyone!
It's been a long time since I've blogged here (and I'm 11 years old now!) but now I'm back and will try to do this more often.
Now that we're back in homeschool, I got an LA assignment telling me to write about my favorite place. So I chose Granny's old house in Balulang. The effect it had on me was amazing. The words started flowing, pouring out, and I wrote for half an hour... Finally, I finished, and here it is.


It's been a long time since I've seen that familiar old tree, 
standing tall and strong, growing lush green leaves.
It's been a long time since I ran down the earthy path that led to the houses,
running down the rich brown earth, kicking up dust.
I still remember the river, the quiet river, flowing easily, carrying the sound
of our laughter to lands unknown.
I remember, after a swim in it, how we would split up and run into
one of the three familiar houses.
One of them standing tall, rich and old, with stairs that creaked 
comfortably whenever we walked up.
I remember the shelves of trophies, the frames of 
butterflies, telling the stories of memories never to be forgotten.
The chickens, squacking as we chased them. The rusted
metal carts that we played magicians in, they used 
to hold food items to sell, but they became used to 
children popping in and out of their holes.
At night, torches glowed, hammocks went back and forth,
tents were put up for the kids to 'camp' in.
A little stone fireplace with stone seats running all around it was lit,
the marshmallows held over it burnt up, we were too mystified
by the stories of people we hardly knew, but felt so close to.
Memories passed over the campfire, told and retold until we knew
every word.
That was the place where everyone knew everyone else, it was a paradise,
closed and separated from the busy world outside, it is, or was my
favorite place.
It's gone now, but still, to me, it's the best place on the face of the Earth,
It's my paradise,



That's my writing.
If you are wondering why I said 'it's gone now', it's because one big flood washed it away, if you look there now, it's just mud, mud, and mud. Foot deep mud. Even the tree is gone. Our family living there was saved, but sadly, the people were the only ones saved. 
The trophies are gone, the frames are gone, they're all lost.
But the memories still thrive.