o.O my final for english was to transform a famous fairy tale into a work written by one of the authors that we've been reading. My favorite author of the whole year would be F. Scott Fitzgerald, author of The Great Gatsby.

Naturally, I chose him as my "imitation assignment" or so it's called. I also chose the fairy tale, "Jack be Nimble" because I thought that jumping over candlesticks are really fun, and because I could easily transform the candlestick into a bonfire, since I've been to a bonfire. [and it was pretty hectic like this was.]

Sorry for the random big words, they were vocab during the year that I decided to throw in just for fun, and potential extra credit.

Jack, a man nimble and quick as the wind, it was like that since high school- the fastest runner on the track and field team, always pushing himself to go farther than he knew he could. It was always obvious that he loved to jump those hurdles, as he would often jump anything we happened to walk by on the street, this could be anything from a fire hydrant to those random poles that stuck out of the ground with no real purpose or reason about them.

On that particular day, however, it was a simple day that I, Jack, and many of our friends were spending on the beach, watching the glittering ocean by day and staring into its dark abyss by night, using a small bonfire as our only source of light. The bonfire crackled loudly as we added more wood from twigs we found under a large tree. I couldn't say what kind of tree, since the only different trees I know are oak and palm, and it seemed to be neither one. I stared into the flames, feeling my eyes burn, but unable to look away. It was then that someone jumped through the flame right at me and we rolled along the sand for a moment before stopping.

"Jack!" I screamed out in shock, our other friends laughing around us. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?!"

I knew the answer before it left his lips. "I was just jumping over it." He remarked, like it was obvious and I was just trying to be stupid on purpose.

I went back to staring into the flames, and they seemed to dance as a cool, refreshing ocean breeze blew right through our campsite. These dancing colors of red, orange, and yellow seemed to mesmerize me, and I turned to Jack to see if he had gotten the same effect. He was also staring into the fire, but I could tell by the twisted smile on his face that he had another thing on his mind than just looking at the fire. I watched him stand, pushing the sliding sand around him and take a few steps back before he set himself up for a running start, pushing the sand again with his toes, digging a small hole to give him some leverage- he needed much more speed now than the last time he jumped, as our small bonfire was growing into a small-scale inferno, and with the wood that everyone else was finding, it would turn into a burning conflagration, that would surely engulf him alive were he to make a mistake. He knew the danger that he was in, and he would surely try to jump no matte what.

What started as a simple day at the beach, might end horribly if he made this mistake.

And with a large gulp of a breath, he ran towards the towering bonfire. And he jumped.

Had two of our friends not gotten into an argument about whether or not more slash be added in at the very last second, or had another one of our friends not decided that the fire was too big and added a small amount of water to keep it still, Jack would have probably been charred to a crisp and burnt as black the tar on the streets. Instead, he barely made the jump through the wall of fire that the inferno created and landed with a foot in the fire when he emerged on the other side.

I ran to his aide, dragging him out as he seemed to not be able to get any grip on the sand as it ran through his fingers like water as he tried to claw himself away from the burning hole in the ground that he attempted to jumped through.

"Are you all right?" was all I could say as we checked to make sure his foot wasn't seriously injured.

"I'm all right." He said, pulling what was left of his shoe off, the leather had almost completely disappeared, attached only to the sole and ankle of his foot, and the fire had burned through his black wool socks. The only real serious injury, thank heaven, was his big toe on his right foot, which was a an unusual shade of red for being in the fire for too long, while being coated by a thick layer of grey ash that had collected. "The only thing that was hurt was my toe." He said in a half amused manner, and I could tell by the look of his twisted smile that he was trying very hard not to laugh, and was considering doing it again.

There you have it! My english final!

If you've ever read anything by Mr. Fitzgerald please leave some sort of feedback, if not... feel free to leave me something too please, since I love being criticized...

Fitzgerald is known for using long sentences for emphasis for the amount of time passed, as well as the use of short sentences to create of a feeling of something happening in a split second. He is also known for his use of strong diction and very detailed descriptions of what was going on around the main character...

I do hope that I was able to convey this story properly, and again it was just something I did for a grade and I thought "This is fanfiction, let's put it on here!!"

So anyways, please feel free to comment. Because your criticism makes ME a better person.