Elyse Berlinberg



Hola! I'm Elyse Berlinberg. I'm a seventh grader in Mrs. Hinkle's class. I like to sing and act, so basically I like being in musicals : ). I also swim, and am very much a summer chique (I like this spelling better-it seems more...sophisticated).My life is music and I will probably go deaf by forty from listening to it so loud ; ).My favorite school subjects are history y espa nol. I luv luv luv to write, and so far am in progress of writing three novels at home (yeah, I'm a dork-what else to do in your spare time? write a novel).  I hope you like my writing!

One Problem of Rome & How I Would Solve It
    As I opened the door to the chamber of law, the contrast between the quier, calm courtyard and the rousing, argumentative conversatons was almost shocking. Senators and generals from heavy to thin, young to old, and punishing to collected were all engaging in ear-splitting disagreements. Seeing this as my last opportunity to try and change their fate, I put a quick plan into action.
    "Excuse me," I politely said at first, then, noticing no one heard me over the temper-tantrums of full grown men, screamed. "EXCUSE ME!"
    All eyes suddenly turned to me, and every mouth went silent.
    Thus started the prejudging and the gossip.
    "Is that a girl?" one laughed
    "A girl, commanding us?" bellowed another
    "Why, she can't be more than thirteen!"
    "Look at that strange haircut. How rebellious!"
    "And what is she wearing? A woman showing so much of her legs? Preposterous!"
    I blushed and grabbed the bottom of my shorts.
    "HAH! How funny."
    "Funny? It's hilarious!"
    The chamber filled with laughter.
    "SHUT UP!" I cried, forgetting respect. "Will you just listen to me?"
    The men grew quiet again, insulted. One timid senator squeaked "yes, mommy."
    I scowled at him.
    "Your empire is dying," I began, starting with the plain truth. "And it will fall."
    Cries and unsettlement broke out. Among them, one man asked, "How do you know this?"
    "Believe it or not, i was born one and a half millenia after Rome falls," I answered.
    "Oh!" the men wailed in unison, an eerie call that haunted me, and haunts me still.
    "But you can end it good," I continued.
    "Well," a man corrected me. "Not good, well."
    "Whatever! Do you want me to tell you or not?!?"
    "Yes!" an old, fat senator called. "Yes, of course. Anything to protect Rome and our wealth."
    He glared at the one who had fixed my grammar.
    "You can end it less painfully by decreasing slavery," I broke the tension.
    "What?"
    "Give up our slaves?"
    "But I like slaves."
    I banged my foot against the floor.
    "No! The men and women in slavery have as many rights to be free as you do. Slavery won't end for another bimillenia, so you could start now. At least stop having as many slaves. People, free people, mind you, are going into unemployment because slaves are doing all the work!"
    "Then what should we do?"
    "Free most of the slaves! How? Well, why don't you put some rights on slaves? Let slaves be able to buy freedom and get a certain amount of eating and resting hours. Have slave owners pay taxes to own a slave! Let people choose to do projects for Rome. Volunteer work."
    The senators stood there, dumbfounded.
    And then, I felt the future again.

Peer Pressure
            You ever learned a lesson the hard way?
            I sure have. My name’s Ryan Linearre. I can describe my lifestyle in one word: hectic. Middle School is the hardest thing one can ever be put through in life, and I’m in it. And even after two years of the mid-school, I still can’t seem to get my buttons straight and to homeroom on time. Social class in Haerloft Middle School seems to be based on what you do and how cool you do it, and believe me, it’s hard to get noticed when you’re one out of 1,100 teens attending the place. Let me tell you a little story about my topsy-turvy life of messy reputations.
            Last week, my buddies Trevor and Ace were joking around with me at lunch. All was normal and simple chat until Ace decided to share a little word with me.
           “Hey Ryan, I, uh, talked to Shelley in Lit,” he wiped his watering eyes, still laughing from Trevor’s gnome joke.
              Shelley’s my girlfriend. I guess she’s cute, you know, but she’s kinda, well, a bit odd around me. Normally she’s an eighth grader, walking around with her posse, picking on some sixies, talking about some hot movie star, the whole shpiel and all, but when around me, she turns into a giggling fifth grader who is tentative and shy around guys. Our relationship normally just hangs on the DL, though, and since our mothers won’t let us go out alone, we don’t really date.
            “Oh yeah?” I replied, trying to sound light toned. “What’d she say?”
            Trev and Ace looked at each other, stifling laughs. Ace must have let Trevor in on this before me. So unfair.
            The two burst out laughing, “She can’t stop talking about you, dude!”
            I rolled my eyes. Suddenly, the laughter stopped.
            “I think you should kiss her,” Trevor’s tone was dead serious.
            Inside, my heart stopped. No! Not the k-word!
           “Really? I mean, wouldn’t it kinda, freak her out?” I heard myself say, but it really meant, “Really? I mean, I’m kinda freaked out!”.
            “No, come on. She wants you to kiss her, I can tell. Kiss her!” no-Ace, don’t join his side!
            Fear escaped and rushed to my face. Luckily my long hair covered my blushing.
            “Oh c’mon, you aren’t chicken, are you? Are you too afraid to kiss a girl?” he stuck his lips out in a mock-sneer.
            “Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!” they mocked, like a couple of immature sixies.
             I couldn’t take the stress.
            “All right! All right!” I gave up. “I’ll kiss her after school. Just stop dancin’ around like a couple of kids, okay?”
            By the time I caught Shelley after school, I was ready. I was cool. I was a DUDE! Ryan Linearre’s no coward! I grabbed her arm, whipped her around, and leaned in, closer…closer…AND KISSED HER!
            So naturally, I missed. Completely. After feeling a draft around my lips, I opened my eyes. There I was, kissing the air about a foot from her cheek, looking like an idiot. And there she was, surprised, lips extended in a kiss where my mouth should have been. Even worse, there were a bunch of kids, watching us from the blacktop, taking pictures from their phones and laughing their heads off.
            Lesson learned. And I owe it all to peer pressure.