To the chinese people who made my dress,

 To those responsible for creating the (masterpiece) to which is considered an evening dress. I am aware of the slave work you have put into the (dress) or whatever you'd like to call that thing. I also understand that you have put money into that pathetic dress, although i'm sorry to inform you but that so called dress is nothing but a waste of perfectly good material, ruined by your careless craftsmanship and lack of care, and poor advertisement. I can assure you that nothing about that dress is the same as the pictures you had provided to me. Other than looking like a pink jellyfish the zipper also broke upon unzipping to which i can also assure you has nothing to do with my size. I'm not requesting a partial refund, simply because i don't want this dress, honestly if much rather watch it burn, then it may be considered pretty. I want nothing but a complete refund, not only because you have provided me with something that was broken and not as advertised, but because i need that money to repurchase another dress. I in addition would also like to be refunded the $60 it will cost to return the dress to your godforsaken country in only god knows where. I'm very not sorry for this intended anger embedded in this letter, but i see it as nothing but necessary. I have the right to a full refund and i expect to get it. Thanks for your time.

Sincerely,

Mickayla Shepard

200 word

 Sometimes i sit in the sun, just staring at the marshmallow fluffed clouds, making up the shapes all by myself- sometimes they’re in the shapes of dogs, rabbits or penguins, although at other times they’re fluffy and look soft as the grass i sit on- the skys are blue, much like the ocean-but not rough like the ocean- soft and smooth like watercolor paint on a wet canvas as if the sky is painted, although everyone knows the sky isnt actually painted, and the clouds are not cotton balls put in random shapes, the clouds are nothing but the evaporated water-water that has evaporated from the blades of grass that i sit upon- although i still ponder thoughts of laying upon their plush surfaces-even though everyone knows that you'll just fall through and end right back where i sit, upon the grass all alone, even though i'm not alone, with the birds flying above-also admiring the clouds- and the animals down her in the grass with me, and sometimes i also ponder if the animals themselves look upon the sky towards the clouds and see themselves in the shapes they form into, even though we all know its all in our imagination.

Short story

  I lay by the fire, slowly drifting to sleep. The kids toys strewn about the living room and I find some among my bed, somehow to comfort me I guess. My mother strokes my hair. There is occasional sharp stabbings of pain in my right side but I ignore it, I wish for my family to smile not cry. It never bothers me, and it never will.

   I've been to the doctors three times this week, they've told my mother and father I have something called cancer, which is twisting its way through my intestines. They said there was nothing they could do. I’m not really sure what that entails but for some reason my family has changed in a way. They've brought me out for long strolls in the woods, we play Frisbee more, and Mother has even given me some extra food, but I wish they weren't different, I want them to be normal like when I was young. 

   Back in the day when I had a spring in my step, my mother would take me for weekly "daycare" as she called it, although to me it was a time I could romp around and play rough with my friends. I could play Frisbee with my Parents forever without ever getting tired. I could eat mounds of food without ever getting full. I could stay up all night pretending to protect the house from intruders making noises at anything that moved, and scaring my parents when they came downstairs for a drink. It used to be so easy.

  Now I’m no longer young. Tonight things finally feel normal to a point. I wasn't hungry but Mother fed me at five anyways, the kids, as always, laid a toy or two upon my bed. The sharp pains seem to subside and then they come again. I lay down on the old couch next to the fire. My mother sits beside me and strokes my hair. I feel myself fading into a deep slumber, but this feels different. At that moment just before I drifted I thought of things I’m proud of. Every day I start the day without caffeine. I’m always cheerful, ignoring my aches and pains. I never complain and bore people with my troubles. I eat the same food every day, and for that I am always grateful. I always understand when Mother and Father are too busy to give me time. I can overlook when people take things out on me. I can face the world without lies and deceit. Lastly I can love unconditionally. Because I am, my family’s dog.