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Stand Up and Fight
Stand Up and Fight: What happened to your hopes, What happened your dreams? You're sitting here in silence, You listen to the screams. I think you've had enough, Just stand up and fight. Don't let yourself be this way, It's not alright. You used to have a smile, But then they made it go. They crushed you in the dirt, Now you're feelin' really low. I think you've had enough, Just stand up and fight, Don't let yourself be this way, It's not alright. The big bullies gang up, They got their own hang up, Forget it and man up, Ya just gotta stand up. Because this is your life, Don't throw it away. Just stand up and fight, No
Master of Ravens
Master of Ravens 1 My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him. During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him. My father. Master of
Fever at Kingsday
Loyal hadn't noticed it earlier, but Tom Fox was paler than usual, and a spot of color had risen high on each cheek, an effect that made his face look even more like a mask than ever. It seemed pointless to worry over the health and well-being of Tom Fox, but by late evening his eyes were bright and the signs were unmistakable—he had a fever. It was almost ridiculous, Loyal thought as he kicked off his boots; the boy had always given the appearance of being inhuman and therefore invulnerable, but that, of course, was a foolish mistake. What else was he, if not a human being—even if he didn't know entirely how to act like one. "You look sick
Why I Caught the Sandman
He's not here anymore, but I definitely had a twin once. We were born together and that's what counts. I know it's true, that he's real, because there's a pale scar like the crook of a finger on my hip. That's where the attachment was--it's from the months we spent in the womb together. The only time I was ever foolish enough to speak about my twin brother to my parents I used that worm-like scar as evidence. "You had an accident when you were very young," my mother said. But I could see her eyes trace nervous angles to a point far over my shoulder. I never spoke about him again. My parents, it became clear, were hiding something from me. T
Jack Be Nimble
Here's an illustration from class, which was a lot of fun to do. We were supposed to take a nursery rhyme and put it into a different cultural setting. I chose the poem "Jack Be Nimble" and set it in the popular Chinese story "Journey to the West", which records the adventures of the great Monkey King.
Bristol and ink.
2063x2055px 1.93 MB
Feb 1, 2014, 10:16:40 PM
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