Jason's Peace Journal

So swift and nimble,tiny,but very queit,describes the small mouse.

“Crash” went the cage door,as my heart ticked like a threatening bomb.My kin was taking a turn for the worst for I was a dragon ,and many of the royal blood of the kingdom of Theraris sent trained hunters called dragon slayers to exterminate us.Because I was a ice dragon the weakest of the dragons explains why i’m in a hunter’s cage.Even though i could call on my parents for aid they would’nt stand for long.”Pprrreewwww” I cried out …there was a thickening silence for a few minutes, then i think the princess reconized me because she had said “daddy I thought you told me you would’nt capture any more dragons”?!!! I knew after that King Goramir captured me because his daughter princess celliria was a dragon lover.She could’nt stand seeing or hearing dragons in pain,and when she heard about the dragons being hunted  you could almost hear her shreik and crie Gonloria all the way to fire tips mountain.

I felt them harden on my  face as i looked up.I could hear the little balls of frozen rain batter the roof like rapid knocks on the door.The rain flooded over the side walk,and into a tiny stream carved out from the water with a delicate hand.It had gushed to the other side of the building literally forming a pond.But the kinders were’nt too fond of the idea of water ,so we had crying girls in the building.A couple minutes later it calmed,and you could taste the silent air of the evening,even though the only comforting words where “how was your day son.”

Some times everyone needs their quiet time. I could go to my martial arts class and meditate, but if class is starting… I could go to my front porch at night and feel the breeze pass you by, but if the crickets are churping… I could go to the misty Scottish highlands by the loch and listen to the waves wash up, and see them glitter and hear the seagulls chant a peaceful song.

It was dark in the basement, and the sounds of their claws sounded like a thousand rats. But their eyes were pure blood red like how I was going to look, and fangs ready to peirce my skin and ears ready to hear my dying screams. I saw a sledge hammer in the corner of my eye that my dad used to kill wolves. So I grasped it ready to kill the little savage beasts.

It was a full moon that looked like a bowl of vanilla ice cream with wafers in it.The coyotes howled a soft lulabye as the fire danced around like indians,and warmed me like toast in a toaster for breakfast.The mesquitoes were too nosy,and the spiders wondering along the ground like little wisps.You could hear the other scouts run and play like wolfcubs in the back ground.The morning had wrapped me into an artic cacoon,and the delicate dew on the soft blades of grass…looked to be forming a minature pond.