This week I was learning to identify an author’s purpose for writing.

Here is my mahi from the story called Sparks:

I feel that the author was trying to teach the reader not to be selfish or karma will hit them straight back in the face.

Sentences that support my thinking:

“I want our son to learn to share, I don’t want him to be selfish.”

“He’ll turn into a spoiled brat if you’re not careful.”

Dad pulls the scooter away, and Dillon kicks and screams till his face is flaming like a sunset.

After those happenings have occurred, Dillon comes home from the park crying, because his scooter has been stolen. But Harley says that they were most likely better off without it.

Thank you for reading.

Kia Ora readers!

Here is some of my mahi that I have been working on this year.

The figure in the woods.

Good ending

I saw a strange slender figure in the misty forest. Cool night air blew a kiss to my cheeks and reminded me I shouldn’t be here. Fear gripped me. Again. It was like the darkness was pulling me toward the abnormal silhouette in front of me.

Tentacles ripped out of his back and started waving through the air like an Inflatable Tube Man on a good sales day. Within a second we were face to face. Well not literally face to face because he didn’t have a face. Yet I could tell he was staring at me through his terrifying mask.

His fingers were so long and slender. His suit unwrinkled, and his limbs hanging there, swaying side to side. His posture was slightly tilted to the left. His tentacles had stopped swaying, and had looked like they were missiles that had locked onto her location.

“Hello little girl.” He said with a raspy robotic tone. “What are you doing out this late at night?”

“I think I’m l-lost..” His posture straightened, but he leaned forward so that his head was at my level. He crouched down and held out his hand.

“Come with me, I’ll take you home, little one.” He said considerately.

“B-but mommy told me not to trust s-strangers..” I said, cautiously taking a step back.

“It’s ok darling, I’ll bring you home.” I could feel his gaze, though he didn’t have eyes. But not a creepy smile, a sympathetic smile, almost begging for me to say yes.

“B-but you don’t k-know where I live..”

“I’m sure we’ll find a way, little one.” I took his hand and he stood up. He outstretched his hand so that I wouldn’t have to tiptoe while holding his hand. I hesitated for a moment, but he assured me that it was ok. I didn’t want to listen to him, but something in me felt okay about it.

A couple minutes later we arrived at a familiar place.

“My home! Yay! Thank you Mr!” I said enthusiastically.

“My pleasure, little girl. And anytime you get lost just say Slender, three times.”

“Okay Mr Slender!”

I ran inside and my mother embraced me in a tight bear hug.

“Where were you?! I was so worried!” Mum said, wiping her face full with tears.

“It’s ok, I’m here now.” I said, falling asleep in her arms.

This week I was learning to identify an author’s purpose for writing.

Here is my mahi from the story called Sparks:

Thank you for reading.

The figure in the woods.

Like more help?