The rusted hulk of a car blew up after having hit the tree. The person driving the car rolled out. I poked him with a stick. He was severely burned, but he continued to twitch. I giggled at the irony of the sight, for he was the same man who hit my turtle and little sister a few days before. You see, my little sister had been walking her turtle, Skittleman Franklin, when the inconsiderate son-of-a-biscuit swerved onto the sidewalk and hit them. They were immediately rushed to the emergency room. My sister only had a couple of broken ribs, but, unfortunately, Skittleman died.
I poked the man again. He moaned and continued twitching. As I saw the ambulance approaching, I kicked him a few times in the face (and the ribs, for my sister), jumped on my bike and pedaled away. I decided to buy some cheese to celebrate the avenging of Skittleman Franklin.
Ashley and Andrea, eigth grade, Del Valle Middle School
Photo courtesy of Lisa Solonynko.