Story Openings

“Emma’s gone!” I yelled at my mom. “She just isn’t there!” I searched the floor frantically to find her. Just a minute ago I was feeding her in the bathroom and the second time I checked on her, she was gone. Since Emma is a gecko and is as wee as a mouse, she could be in any tiny place or crevice. I could feel my face getting hot. She could be anywhere.

So far, my trip to Hawaii had been great, but I was waiting to get to have some real fun and experience some island magic. I would go anywhere, try anything. Then it happened. My cousin started to talk about taking us to the Ke’e, and boy did I get excited. I was ready.

“Kevin!” my mom called anxiously, “I have something exciting to show you!” I ran over to where my mom was sitting in our condo in Costa Rica. Lying in front of her were a few tickets. As I read them quietly, my eyes bulged. “We’re going to see leatherback turtles on the beach tonight!” I shouted in amazement.

It was a horribly hot day, and the sun was melting me. I had pounds of butterflies in my stomach. Every time I drew closer to my absolute doom, I thought more about whether or not I really wanted to do this. Finally, it was time.

My sister and I climbed onto the ripped-up, red seat and pulled down the hot, sweaty handle that would soon be protecting us in the car that would carry us through the scorching, sickening, insane, storming roller coaster ride called Roar, which you should eternally never ride.

I was at Petaluma High School, standing next to my coach, Jenny. It was my first swim meet, and I was having a pleasant time. Something was bothering me, though. You could blame it all on the next event coming up. I was not looking forward to it one bit. I had done fairly well in my previous events; however, I was edgy and nervous for this one. This was a 200-yard Independent Medley. It was a long distance because it included eight laps of four different strokes.

“Wow!” I said in amazement, as we treaded up to the amazing and antique Musee D’Orsay.

“Did you know that this museum used to be an old train station?” my mom read aloud from our guidebook. We walked into this gorgeous building, full of masterpieces. I looked around, and there was an enormous clock painted gold. I wondered how long it took to make such a beautiful clock. My mom handed me a map, telling us where everything was located. My eyes glowed with happiness as I saw the words “Vincent Van Gogh’s Self Portrait.” I pleaded with my mom to allow us to go there first, but she insisted we must save the best for last.