The turtle is my favorite animal, and a lot of turtle species are in the endangered list. And so one day I wrote a story, in the form of a farewell letter, about a turtle. I really want this done in animation, but I don't know how to. Here it goes:
AN ENDANGERED FRIEND'S FAREWELL LETTER
Dear Land Dweller,
How’s life up there? I hope you’re enjoying yourself, relaxing in the sun and all. How’s life down here, you might be wondering. Well, it’s pretty good. Lately, however, some weird stuff has been happening. These events have led to—oh wait, what about I start this thing from the time I hatched from my egg? That way you’d know more about me and have a clearer picture of things.
I came out of my egg a couple of months ago. It was nighttime, if I remember it correctly. I opened my eyes and saw more eggs in front of me. My brothers and sisters! I waited for them to come out of their eggs, but then I heard a noise followed by light coming into our nest. I looked up and saw a hand. It was huge and scary, and it was putting my siblings’ eggs into a silver container! Then the hand got hold of me and took me out of the nest. The land dweller whose hand was holding me threw me into the air. I fell to the sand and hit my head hard. Fighting back tears, I started walking towards the ocean.
I was swimming alone when I met this long-tailed triangle creature named Ray. He said he knew a shortcut to where we live, a place called Turtville, so I followed him. During our trip he showed me some of the wonders of the deep. We became friends. Too bad I had to say goodbye to him when we reached Turtville.
My parents welcomed me and told me to take a nap first. When I woke up, the first thing they asked me was, “Where are your brothers and sisters?” I told them about my encounter with the cruel land dweller. Mother was crying the whole time. I was just about to tell them about Ray when they hugged me tight and father said, “You were lucky to survive that poacher.” I asked them what a poacher was, but they told me I was too young to understand.
Weeks flew by. I made a new best friend, Trevor. He was a week older than me. Together we learned from our parents about the joys and dangers of living under the sea. We were taught how to ward off predators and make friends with the creatures living near Turtville. Our parents showed us where to get food good for us turtles; they also taught us how to read and write. During our spare time we’d play tricks on some of the older turtles. Trevor and I would also swim around and look for jellyfish, our kind’s most favorite snack.
One day, after visiting my grandmother, I went to our favorite jellyfish-hunting spot. Trevor was already there when I arrived. I swam towards him and offered my flipper for our secret flippershake. He didn’t move. I shook him hard and waved my flippers in front of his eyes, but he still didn’t move. I called for help. Trevor’s parents came and did the same things I did. Then they stopped, looked at each other and started to cry. That’s when I knew. Trevor was dead.
Trevor swallowed something called a plastic bag, mistaking it for a jellyfish. Do you know what that is? Father didn’t explain, he just told me Trevor was the fourth of our kind to die because of a plastic bag. It took me a while to recover. By the time I finally did, another disaster hit our community. A huge metal thing sank near Turtville; black sticky goo started coming out of it. Everyone’s leaving before the black goo starts spreading over the whole community. My parents told me if we get covered in it, we’ll die.
Do you know anything about the sunken metal thing, my friend? Hopefully you do. Please do something about it, and ask your fellow land dwellers to help out. The other creatures living near Turtville haven’t left yet and I don’t want them get covered with black goo.
Oh, and you don’t need to look for me or write back to me; by the time this letter reaches you, my family and I together with the rest of Turtville will probably be somewhere in the middle of the ocean, journeying to the Great Barrier Reef. Father told me the turtles talk different there but he said we’ll do just fine.
Hoping you understand my handwriting,
Created: Dec 05, 2010aahhhron Document Media