Creative Writing in Mrs. Ryan’s Class

Creative Writing in Mrs. Ryans Class

Kaavya Vinod, Writer

Have you ever walked by that class with the big window and instead of tiles on the floor, it’s carpet? Well, that’s Mrs. Ryan’s classroom. Mrs. Ryan is a teacher on the blue team and has a very interesting class of 8th graders. Mrs. Ryan is kind and sweet and always thinks of her students first. On Wednesday, 02-10-22, at the beginning of class, we were asked to answer a journal prompt: “What connections can you make between your independent reading book  and the movies, news events, other texts, your own life, etc?” One of our peers wrote a reply that deserves to be shared. This is what Nimish Kunte wrote:

They kept coming, and coming, and coming. Rows and rows of rebel, iron-clad troops marched across the marshy plains; they knew it was treason, but the propaganda had assured that it was the only way. The king was a noble, respectable man. He worked hard for his people, yet he could not handle the poverty gripping his nation by the throat. His political opponent had delivered one impassioned speech after another, claiming it was the king’s fault and his greed that caused the poverty. As the rows marched, the king panicked. He knew his opponent would grasp power as soon as he got it, but the king’s devotion to his people was sincere. The troops heard the almost impenetrable walls, but nothing would stop the thousands of people who had shown up to fight. Soon, the castle walls were obliterated and the troops entered the castle. The king hid as best he could, sending his beloved wife and children away to hide elsewhere. The troops completely breached the castle, occupying every nook and cranny, and soon, the king was found. The enemy came up to the king with a steel, gem-hilted, broad sword on his back. Words were exchanged as the king pleaded for mercy, explaining the truth, and with each word, the enemy laughed harder and harder. He walked up to the king and said the most chilling words the king had ever heard: “I know that. They don’t and never will.” With one clear stroke, the sword plunged deep into the king’s chest, blood on his head, and went limp. No one to challenge me now, the enemy thought. “Tear this place down” he instructed his men with a cold grin on his face. No one dared to disobey.


Nice work Nimish. This is a very detailed and expressive piece of writing. Keep up the good work. You are a talented writer!