reflection:
This piece of was written on March 27, 2012. I chose to put this in my website because it's one of the best papers I've written that has a lot of imagery and sensory details in it. I love creative writing the most and this piece shows how creative my stories can get when using sensory details.
Tuna Juice
I used to be the love of my family’s life. I used to be special too. I could go downstairs into the kitchen where there’s always something heavenly cooking. My family loves to cook things like meatloaf and salmon burgers. The best part is that they give me whatever juice comes out of it- well they used to. My favorite is tuna juice. I could go into the family room and lie on their laps and fall asleep while listening to whatever crazy movie they were watching. Sometimes they would play cards and I would fall asleep to their laughter. Things changed when Lexy turned 13. Out of all the things her family could’ve gotten her, they got her the one species I despise-dogs. I despise dogs naturally because I’m a cat, but because they are attention seekers. Ever since that puppy came into this house I’ve been stuck in Lexy’s dusty but tidy room.
My food, water, and litter box are in the next room over. I can barely get a drink of water without seeing that horrible dog. He used to be stuck downstairs where he belongs but he worked his way up the stairs with those forsaken puppy dog eyes that everyone falls for. Lexy’s room isn’t all bad; but I love to cuddle with her shoes and clothes so she knows I love her. Recently, she’s started cleaning her room and keeping all of her shoes in her closet where I can’t get to them. Now there’s nothing for me to cuddle with when I get lonely. Sometimes Lexy will bring me cups of tuna juice and I slurp it down in what feels like five seconds. But lately those treats have been getting less and less.
In Lexy’s room, there’s her bed against the far right corner next to a big window. That window is very big and has smudges from where I rub my nose against it. The window is my favorite place to be. I can see everything that happens outside. To the right of the bed, her nightstand stands which has her phone, and her jewelry box. Five feet to the right of that is her desk. It seems when she’s home, that is where she spends most of her time. In front of her bed there’s a laundry basket (I love it because I usually jump in it and get my white fluffy hair all over her black clothes). To the left of the laundry basket is her dresser which is humongous and white. There’s nothing on her floor other than a tan shag carpet. That’s what upsets me the most. She always picks up her clothes and shoes so they’re out of my reach. I feel like she doesn’t want me to rub my white hair all over her clothes. All I want is for her to know I love her.
I love the air vent. I can hear everything everyone is saying all the time. I always here someone cooking and I can usually smell it too. But for the most part I just listen to Lexy’s voice and try to ignore the barking dog. I guess he thinks because he can go anywhere in the house he owns it and can protect it. Lexy has a wonderfully melodic voice. It sounds like angels are singing my favorite song. She can hit all the right notes and she always sings while she’s doing homework at her desk. That’s my favorite part of the day. She comes home, pats my head and starts singing a random song. At four o’clock every day I listen to Lexy playing with a baby. She laughs and plays with that baby like the baby was the most precious thing in the world. The baby has this toy that plays the same annoying tune over and over. I think the song is Mary had a little lamb but I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s very annoying and I don’t understand how Lexy can stand it. But like I said, I rely on that air vent because that’s how I hear things.
Another reason I love the air vent is because I can smell everything in the house too. Mostly everything I smell comes from the kitchen. Lexy’s mom is always cooking something scrumptious. She always makes home cooked meals. Whenever she makes meatloaf, I can almost taste it. She opens up the oven and the air drifts up towards the vents. It smells like tuna juice mixed with the best cat food in the world. One of the bad things about being able to smell everything is that I can smell any type of tuna juice that is there in the kitchen. Whenever I smell tuna juice I hope that it’s for me but for the most part it’s never for me.
Until one day I smelled tuna juice in the kitchen. A portion of me is still hopeful that it will be for me but I already know it’s not. So I just sat on Lexy’s bed waiting to hear the happy dog slurping up what should be mine. But it never comes. I listen some more and I hear foot steps towards Lexy’s room. That’s when I realized that the tuna juice just might be for me.
I saw the full bowl and the happy smiles of Lexy and her family. They gave me the bowl, and I slurped it up so fast I don’t even think I even tasted it. Apparently I did taste it because it was the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. The dog was even there! He was on a leash and had very jealous look on his face. It made me feel so special because usually it’s the other way around. It tasted so sour and smelled so delicious that I think my heart exploded with joy and happiness. I realized that the dog isn’t that bad; we both just want love and I think I’m going to start to like this dog.
My food, water, and litter box are in the next room over. I can barely get a drink of water without seeing that horrible dog. He used to be stuck downstairs where he belongs but he worked his way up the stairs with those forsaken puppy dog eyes that everyone falls for. Lexy’s room isn’t all bad; but I love to cuddle with her shoes and clothes so she knows I love her. Recently, she’s started cleaning her room and keeping all of her shoes in her closet where I can’t get to them. Now there’s nothing for me to cuddle with when I get lonely. Sometimes Lexy will bring me cups of tuna juice and I slurp it down in what feels like five seconds. But lately those treats have been getting less and less.
In Lexy’s room, there’s her bed against the far right corner next to a big window. That window is very big and has smudges from where I rub my nose against it. The window is my favorite place to be. I can see everything that happens outside. To the right of the bed, her nightstand stands which has her phone, and her jewelry box. Five feet to the right of that is her desk. It seems when she’s home, that is where she spends most of her time. In front of her bed there’s a laundry basket (I love it because I usually jump in it and get my white fluffy hair all over her black clothes). To the left of the laundry basket is her dresser which is humongous and white. There’s nothing on her floor other than a tan shag carpet. That’s what upsets me the most. She always picks up her clothes and shoes so they’re out of my reach. I feel like she doesn’t want me to rub my white hair all over her clothes. All I want is for her to know I love her.
I love the air vent. I can hear everything everyone is saying all the time. I always here someone cooking and I can usually smell it too. But for the most part I just listen to Lexy’s voice and try to ignore the barking dog. I guess he thinks because he can go anywhere in the house he owns it and can protect it. Lexy has a wonderfully melodic voice. It sounds like angels are singing my favorite song. She can hit all the right notes and she always sings while she’s doing homework at her desk. That’s my favorite part of the day. She comes home, pats my head and starts singing a random song. At four o’clock every day I listen to Lexy playing with a baby. She laughs and plays with that baby like the baby was the most precious thing in the world. The baby has this toy that plays the same annoying tune over and over. I think the song is Mary had a little lamb but I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s very annoying and I don’t understand how Lexy can stand it. But like I said, I rely on that air vent because that’s how I hear things.
Another reason I love the air vent is because I can smell everything in the house too. Mostly everything I smell comes from the kitchen. Lexy’s mom is always cooking something scrumptious. She always makes home cooked meals. Whenever she makes meatloaf, I can almost taste it. She opens up the oven and the air drifts up towards the vents. It smells like tuna juice mixed with the best cat food in the world. One of the bad things about being able to smell everything is that I can smell any type of tuna juice that is there in the kitchen. Whenever I smell tuna juice I hope that it’s for me but for the most part it’s never for me.
Until one day I smelled tuna juice in the kitchen. A portion of me is still hopeful that it will be for me but I already know it’s not. So I just sat on Lexy’s bed waiting to hear the happy dog slurping up what should be mine. But it never comes. I listen some more and I hear foot steps towards Lexy’s room. That’s when I realized that the tuna juice just might be for me.
I saw the full bowl and the happy smiles of Lexy and her family. They gave me the bowl, and I slurped it up so fast I don’t even think I even tasted it. Apparently I did taste it because it was the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. The dog was even there! He was on a leash and had very jealous look on his face. It made me feel so special because usually it’s the other way around. It tasted so sour and smelled so delicious that I think my heart exploded with joy and happiness. I realized that the dog isn’t that bad; we both just want love and I think I’m going to start to like this dog.
Analysis of skills:
My writing skills are basic. I know how to write and I know how to put together sentences, but sometimes my sentences are too short or too long. One strength I have is that I can make a good story. My sentences may not be the best but I can make up or get my point across pretty well. One weakness is that I have trouble with metaphors and similes in my writing. I put things straight forward and don't compare it to anything. My writing is bland as well. Sometimes I don't make it interesting, I only do what is required of me to get a good grade. My writing isn't usually an eye catcher.