7th grade humanities
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writing strong leads


see how christina wrote different leads for her narrative!


Original Lead:

    It had been about a week or two since we had moved into our new house in Maspeth.  It took us a while to unpack everything and put it all in its right place. 
    At the time, I was attending a Catholic school and I was an altar server at my church.  Nobody in my family really attended church - nobody except my grandmother, that is.  This was the common bond that we shared, and even if we couldn't really communicate well, I took solace in the fact that at least we could do that together.


Lead Option #1
    "What's happening?" I heard a soft voice behind me ask, sleepily.
    I turned around to face my grandmother, who was lying down in bed under her flower patterned comforter.  She looked up at me with sleepy eyes. 
    "The priest is coming over," I responded simply.
    "What?  When?!" she asked, alarmed.
    "Right now!" I responded impatiently, turning back to my closet to pick out my clothes.  "Geez, didn't she know about this before?" I wondered to myself, slightly annoyed.


Lead Option #2
    I sat numbly on the couch, looking down at the floor, at the same dark brown spot patterned into the wood.  My mind was blank; my body numb. 
    "What's happening in there?" I wondered.  "Will the paramedics be able to save her?"  I gazed toward my closed bedroom door, where EMTs were "working on" my grandmother.
    As if reading my mind, one of the paramedics stepped out.  My entire family - mother, father, brother, and I - looked up simultaneously, anxious to hear what he would have to say. 
    "Tell me she's OK.  Tell me you were able to revive her.  Please..." I thought.
    The paramedic looked at us solemnly.  "I'm sorry...we couldn't revive her," he said slowly.  "Her heart just wasn't responding."
    At this news, the modicum of hope I was reserving inside of my heart burst, like a balloon with too much air, instantly deflating me of joy and leaving me with nothing but mere shreds of what had been. 
    "This is all my fault," I thought.  "All my fault!" I sobbed, burying my face in my hands.
***
    That morning...


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