Ronnie

Ronnie Roo walked back and forth in her tiny room, her hands clasped behind her back, her lips tightly pursed and slightly frowning. Every now and then she would stop pacing, put her right hand to her chin, and say, “Hmmm.” Then she would shake her head and continue as she was.

After ten minutes of this, she finally forced herself into the chair at her desk and set her fingers to the keyboard of her old IBM typewriter. “I’m gonna do it,” she said. “I don’t care what I write, but I’m gonna write it. No matter what comes out, that’s what gets written.” It was, and always had been, her sheer determination that pushed her. She had worked hard to get where she was, and a little writer’s block was NOT going to take her down.

Her fingers started moving, and before long, she had her first sentence:

I looked over across the room, and noticed a cold glass of Mountain Dew on the counter, drops of condensation dripping down and puddling around it.

As she finished, she looked up and suddenly noticed the drink on her counter, exactly as she had described it on the page. Startled, but committed to finishing her story, she started writing again:

Before long, a knock at the door.

And just as she finished writing it, there was a knock at her door. Rushing over, she opened it. No one was there. “Of course not,” she thought, “I haven’t said who yet.” So she sat down again to write:

It was an anvil salesman.

It took her five minutes to convince the visitor that had interrupted her that she had absolutely no need or desire for an anvil. Once he was gone, she thought for a few moments, trying to think of something that could never in a million years be considered a coincidence:

Quite suddenly, a blue penguin walked in through the window, picked up the glass of Mountain Dew, and drank it.

She had never seen a blue penguin… not until the very moment she finished typing. When he had finished the drink, and gone back to wherever it is that blue penguins come from, Ronnie considered her new found power and tried to think of a way she might take advantage of it. Finally, she smiled and wrote:

My mind went blank. Without even thinking about it, I quickly typed up a full length, award winning novel, finishing it just as a book publisher called me to ask if I had anything they could use this summer.

It was a horrid night. There was a cold breeze out in the night. Me and my sister, Veronica, were home alone. There were no sounds but the lone coyote. You could hear the howl of a wolf followed by 3 other howls. That means there was going to be a war. Me and my sister were sleeping in while the wolves and the coyote strike at each other. Something in the distance not a growl, not a howl, but a giant big RAWR. The coyote ran and the wolves marched while me and my sister were on the porch.

We were too young to know how to call the police or even use a phone so we waited and waited for the war to be done. Of course, the fearless wolves won and marched one by one at our porch. My sister told me to head downstairs and to lock the basement while she yells for help. She was calling for help but it was too late because, the wolves were hungry and angry. She does whatever she could to keep them away from the basement but there were too many and she screamed one more time for help then *BOOM* a gunshot scaring them away. this shows how her only objective is to keep me safe forever.

Ronnie Discovers a Power

Ronnie And The Wolves