When I was in the eighth grade, I had a poem published in a literary book. My mom recently visited and brought me a copy of the book. Inside was another entry I'd submitted (a short story) which I actually like much more than the poem that was selected, so I thought I'd share it with you! To be fair, I have retyped it word for word, including typos (these were the days before spell check, after all!).
The black and white kitten entered the room and found a bright orange ball of yarn across the floor waiting for him. The kitten approached it slowly and cautiously and became less sure of himself with every step. He laid on his stomach, crouched down very low, waiting for the right moment. The ball, about one foot away from the kitten, stood still, waiting for the exact time the kitten would strike. The small feline edged closer to the ball of orange yarn and stared continuosly at it. Suddenly the ball moved away from the kitten and he leaped to the side. He was breathing very hard now and his heart beat rapidly. The kitten, once again, dared to move toward the orange ball with constant awareness of all about him. His ears were perked and his hair stood straight on end as a quiver ran down his spine.
The ball looked innocent, as if unaware of him, but he would not be fooled by an orange ball. He know that this yarn knew exactly when he would strike and so he decided he must trick it. He walked slowly around the ball as if to surround it. The orange ball of yarn looked at the kitten with beady eyes as if to say, "You'll never get me! I'm too good for you!" He knew this look, for he had seen it many times before, but he knew he must conquer this yarn, for he was the king.
He continued on around the object and hissed fiercely. Finally, he knew the right moment had come. He leaped high into the air with all his strength and landed with a crash on the small orange ball. Alas! A small string of yarn came bleeding out of the orange ball and he stood tall on the wounded yarn, for he knew he had won!
Then suddenly, the ball was lifted onto the forbidden shelf and he was alone again. So on the carpet he laid, and rested his eyes while he basked in his victory.