Saturday, April 23, 2011

Marina DuVernet, 9, at work after school. She constantly writes stories and is currently working on a book.


Dear Readers: Marina DuVernet came to the Seven Golden Secrets to Writing class with good structure. However, she hadn't explored her creative side. Now that she's doing so, she's written many stories and is currently working on a book about a scary island. It's good and it goes to show you what kids can do! Diana

The Pet Who Was the Easter Bunny
By Marina DuVernet, 9,

Hey, I’m the Easter Bunny! Want my autograph?

Well anyway, I’m trapped in this house with this giant human little girl. I have to deliver my Easter eggs on Easter night, so I snuck out for a practice run.  About half way through the underground tunnel, I heard that annoying little girl shout:

“Where’s my bunny!?”

Then I raced back up, because if I didn’t get back up there in time, she’d start shaking the cage and I have a collection of priceless invisible eggs in there. So I hopped back up.

“There’s my bunny,” she said and in one deep breath, she snatched me out of the cage and whisked me into her bed.

She squeezed me tightly in her arms and started sleeping. Gosh, that was rude!

If only she knew I was the Easter bunny! But I stopped myself from sinking my claws into her arm. Soon, she began snoring. Yes, snoring.

Don’t you feel sorry for me?  Oh yes, some hot soup with plenty of carrots and cabbage would be nice. Oh, and thank you for the hot chocolate. Wait. I  wasn’t finished yet.  O.K. in the morning, well that was even worse!

In the morning, the weekend before Easter, she made me join a tea party with her pesky stuffed animals. Oh, I have a headache now. I need aspirin. Now where was I. Oh, yea, the tea party.  That was a disaster. Every time, I made a run for it, she’d grab me and put me back in my “baby chair.” And at night, she squeezed me again.

The next day, I’m glad she went to school. So I basically sort of trashed her room. Hey, don’t look at me. She tortures me every minute she can. When she came home, I was sitting in a corner – innocently.

“Oh, bunny, did you do all of this?” she asked. “Aww, you’re so cute. You finally learned. Good job. How about I clean that up for you?”

So guess what I got? A big, fat, hug! Yuck.

The next day, in the early amount of squeezing, the girl’s mom finally came in. Where was she this whole time?

“What are you doing with that poor bunny?” the mom asked.

“Umm….nothing, mom.”

“Give me that bunny,” the mom said finally. She carried me in my cage back to the kitchen. I like it much better there, no pink walls, no pink bread spread and no tea parties! The little giant girl never squeezed me again.

Happily, Easter was saved.  I was able to paint up Easter eggs, hop up the tunnel and secretly place them in family’s yards on Easter morning.

If one year, you don’t get any Easter eggs, you will know what happened, won’t you? Some giant of a little girl will be tucking me in her bed, snoring, and making me play tea party.

Hey, don’t blame me. Happy Easter.