How The Zebra Got Its Stripes

A Story by StormyDixie

In English I had to make my own mythology story about how the zebra got its stripes. I don't know what to think of it. Tell me your thoughts please?

The Savannah was very dry this year. Every time I gallop around, a huge cloud of dust swallows my tracks. The food is also rare this year. I am starving. "Benji! Go get me food! And hurry." I yell at Benji a lot, but I don't feel guilty. "Cooper, do I look like a service monkey?!" I look at Benji stupidly because he is my service monkey.

Benji finially leaves to catch me some food. I walk around and stare at my pitch black legs. I want to be different; I look like everyone else. Benji comes back with some white berries. They are the best berries in the world! I eat all of the berries, and the next morning I wake up with a white stripe on one leg. I yell at Benji to go get more barries, and, to my likings, he does. Once again, I have another stripe. Everyday I wake up with more and more stripes on me until I am swallowed in them.

"They are the best berries ever!" I brag to my friends. "You should call yourself Zebra!" Everyone agrees with Benji, and so do I. From that day forward, I am known as Zebra, not Cooper.