The Wrong Mom

Today at 12:17pm, I woke up from my nap. Daddy was making sandwiches for lunch. I could tell from the smell of the sizzling bacon that we were going to have BLT sandwiches. Daddy always made mine on white bread with bits of bacon, lettuce, and tomato slices without the peel so I could eat it. We were going outside afterward to see Mommy finally arriving from her job in the military. I missed her very much. 

Daddy picked me up and kissed me on the forehead. We saw our lunches on the table, mine on a baby shark plate served with orange juice with foam on the top and his that said ‘Dad’ with rainbow dots, and served with iced tea. We ate our sandwiches and got dressed. 

It was a sunny day, but halfway to the airport, it started to rain harder and harder. By the time we got there, there was a lot of traffic and we were almost late! Our mom was getting out of the plane and a streak of thunder flashed over someone’s head. A lady came running to us. 

A lady that was supposed to be our mom. 

But it wasn’t.

The Birthday Mystery

It was almost Isabella’s birthday. She was about to turn ten years old. She was so excited. Isabella wants her birthday to be very special, because her birthday is in spring which is her favorite season. And every year when it was her birthday, it’s always very special. Isabella got some markers, and then she drew a card, and then she found lots of envelopes, and then she made copies of the sheet she drew. She put them in each envelope with different stickers. One day on March 19, so she loves her birthday so much. She thought there would be some really special presents that she had always wanted since she was five years old. At bedtime, she kissed her teddy bear that she got when she was four years old. 

Then she went to sleep and she dreamed that she and her friends loved her birthday, and she dreamed that she got thousands of presents, including the present she wanted every since she was a little girl. Another teddy bear, teddy bear clothing, and a teddy bear bow tie. She already had one teddy bear, but she wanted two. Then she heard a strange noise that woke her up, but she saw nothing. “Whatever,” she thought. “It was probably a dream.” Then she went back to sleep the whole night. 

The next day was March 20th. Isabella wore her normal school uniform, but included her colorful backpack. When she came to school, she saw Charlie, the mean girl in the school. Isabella looked at her, not very happy. Then she went to her classroom. There was a math assessment, and the problem was 1000000 – 7000 = 3000. 

After the math assessment, it was lunch and recess. She saw her friends named Andrea, Emily, Camila, and Cinnamon. Isabella saw Charlie doing the monkey bars all over again. Isabella thought, it will become not funner if she keeps doing this. After recess they did writing workshop. Her story was nonfiction about flowers and soil. Then it was time for packup, and then they got home. Of course, Isabella got ready for the cake. She changed into her pajamas, ate her dinner, brushed her teeth, and went to the bathroom. She gets ready for sleep and her mom and dad kiss her goodnight.

The next day, it was her birthday. Before she goes to school, Isabella goes to the blue mailbox. Isabella didn’t realize she put the name Charlie on one of the envelopes. Then, she went to school and when it was math, the teacher didn’t really celebrate anybody’s birthday.

Since it was Isabella’s birthday, when Isabella went to the park she was going to say nice things to her friends, but before she could say the nice things she saw Charlie.

“Charlie, I did not invite you to my birthday party,” said Isabella.

“A letter came to my mailbox. You did’t realize you added my name?” said Charlie in a confused face. 

“I didn’t realize. Oh, and also, sorry that I made a mean face yesterday morning. Will you forgive me Charlie?” said Isabella.

“Yes, I always forgive people,” said Charlie in a nice voice… but this is not the end of the story. When it was time to eat the cake, the cake was missing!

“Oh no, the cake is missing!” said Isabela and Charlie.

“What if one of your friends is NOT your friend?” said Charlie.

“That is a good question Charlie. What if my one of my friends is not my friend? I got the cake for 9999 dollars.” 

“That is a lot of money to pay,” said Charlie. “No worries, my dog is smart. His name is Chase. Chase could do anything, so I think he could solve the case. Oh, and also, I am a detective, same as Chase,” whispered Charlie. Chase sniffed all the way to Charlie’s little sister Anna. 

“Anna, you made my new friend very mad,” said Charlie.

“I am sorry, I wanted mommy to love me more,” said Anna.

Isabella felt thrilled because the mystery was solved. She was as happy as a newborn flower. Isabella thought about if her birthday has to be perfect?

“It doesn’t have to be perfect!” Isabella. 

“I guess we solved the mystery,” said Charlie. 

Charlie might still be a little mean. I promise, Charlie will be nice!

The lesson is to not blame it on someone else.

The Book Story

Aria took a book off the shelf. “Here,” she said, handing it to Bunbun. “You can learn more about Fantasia in this book.”

Bunbun had to write a whole report on fantasy. “Well,” said Bunbun, except now his voice was muffled. 

“Okay, silly goose,” said Aria, taking the book off of the small bunny. “You can read it with me.”

“Okay, time to open the book!” said Bunbun.

Aria opened the shiny cover of the book and started reading. Later, she finally closed the book and said, “Okay, time to go to bed.”

Okay, now I can explain what they’re talking about. Except really quietly. They are talking about the world of no magic. The one you’re probably in right now, because this was the opposite. The world of fantasy thought of the world of humans as the world of fantasy. Oh, okay, now they’re waking up and I can stop talking.

Aria yawned. “I thought I heard voices.”

“This sure is a strange dream you had there, miss.”

“Okay, I know what you want,” said Aria, laughing. “To go outside and play ball. Be careful because the ball is twice your size, Bunbun.”

“Okay,” said Bunbun.

They went outside. Aria took the ball and threw it. But before the ball reached Bunbun it disappeared.

“Huh, that’s strange,” said Aria. “Our balls never disappear.”

“I know!” said Bunbun.

“Here, come on, Bunbun.” Bunbun ran to her but also faded. 

“Yeesh!” cried Aria, running back. Then she noticed her hand. It was slowly disappearing! “Oh no,” she groaned.

“Mommy!” Aria heard a voice say.

“Bunbun!” said Aria. A tiny little Bunny hopped in her hands. “Though it’s kind of blank here.

Aria slowly stood up with the small bunny in her hands. But she fell through the floor. 

“Huh. Is this a weird day?” grumbled Bunbun.

“I have to say, I agree,” said Aria, lifting her eyebrow at the weird things all around.

Bunbun sat down, thinking. “My book!” he cried. “I was writing about the world of fantasy, right?”

“Right…” said Aria.

“I was just thinking how–”

“BUNBUN! Watch out!” cried Aria. She snatched the tiny bunny from the ground and ran to the side.

“What?”

“Look! Your book!” she said, panting. They both looked as the book fell and its pages became stranger. They looked like they were flipping from both sides and the words started spilling out of the book. “Oh, I hope not,” moaned Aria.

The words started spinning and spinning and spinning around them.

“Yup! I knew it,” squealed Bunbun in a horrified voice.

“We’re going inside the book!”cried Aria. 

“Help,” grumbled Bunbun. “You’re kidding me. Is this really the place we’re supposed to be going to?” said Bunbun in an annoyed voice.

“Where?” asked Aria. “We’re not even there yet!”

“Well, now that you mention it, I don’t see the ground because of all these words.” It was kind of true. “Is this because I’m hearing that voice again?”

“No! What voice?” squeaked Bunbun.

“And in you go!” said Aria, looking at the hole that was opening up between the words.

“Don’t!” squealed Bunbun, but he was already flip-flopping through the air, and letting his stomach also do flip-flops. Now the bunny was looking up, hoping he wouldn’t get squished by a very big human called Aria. “Now I’m hearing what Aria was hearing.”

“Yeah, I told you that voice was somewhere out there!” said someone behind him.

“Yow!” cried Bunbun, looking for something to hide behind, or someone.

“It’s just me, silly bunny,” said Aria.

“Well, if you’re going to call me silly bunny, you better watch out. This isn’t the place we’re supposed to be.”

“It is if we’re already there,” warned Aria. All Bunbun did was hop on her shoulder.

“Well, if you want to,” said Aria.

“Don’t ask me,” said Bunbun, already hiding his face behind her head.

“Hmmm,” said Aria.

“Are you sure I should peek out?” said Bunbun.

“You should if you wanna squeal again!”

But Bunbun didn’t care. That was all he needed to hear to give a tiny peek.

“EEEE!” he said, almost flying up to the clouds. “I wish my friend Aria wasn’t so serious,” he said, hanging up in the air for at least three seconds before crashing back down to the grass. “Hey, this isn’t grass,” thought Bunbun. “This is slime!” He noticed that the ground was a giant puddle of very gooey slime that was actually mud. “Mama!” he cried. “This is so gooey!” he thought when he finally scrambled out.

“Whatever,” said Aria, running back to the book. She grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages. “I don’t get it. This book is empty!”

“Not so empty,” said Bunbun, flipping to the last page. “Look!” There was one word that had the spelling A-R-I-A  A-N-D  B-U-N-B-U-N. “Hey! That spells Bunbun and Aria!”

Aria looked at Bunbun. Bunbun looked at Aria. “Well, since we got in the book, we must have gotten the book to get the words to have us in the book!” said Aria and Bunbun.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t leave it in my room. Otherwise I would have thought that there was a girl named Aria and a bunny named Bunbun in the fantasy world too.”

“Woah! What is that?” said Bunbun pointing to something with a long tail, long whiskers, and long ears. “Well, whatever it is, I learned to sound it out: ck-ah-t.”

“I think that spell cat?” said Aria. “But we don’t know what a cat is, or what a cat does!” 

“Well just in case,” said Bunbun, “let’s run.”

Bunbun hopped off of Aria’s shoulder and started running as fast as he could with his tiny legs.

“Ahh,” Bunbun thought. But soon he got a little more filled up with energy. Because he saw that the cat was running after him. “EEE! MAMA MIA!” he cried. He jumped as high as he could so the cat wouldn’t reach him, but he ended up in Aria’s face instead.

“What are you doing?” cried Aria. “You know you shouldn’t have jumped in my face.”

“Sorry! That cat’s about to pounce in my face!” said Bunbun.

“Well, in that case, let’s use the last of our words, even if there aren’t any words,” said Bunbun, staring into the book.

“Wait, what?” said Aria. She flipped to the first page. There was a whole page written. Bunbun flattened himself out like a balloon. “Bunbun, you aren’t supposed to be a bookmark!” said Aria.

But Bunbun still was flat as a deflated balloon.

“I know what you want!” said Aria. She blew on the words which blew Bunbun all over the place. “Now you can blow yourself up!” said Aria.

“Okay,” said Bunbun, and he blew himself up like a balloon.

“Okay, now that you’re not as flat as a deflated balloon, we can–”

“Fly?” interrupted Bunbun.

“No,” said Aria. But she still checked where her feet were dangling. In midair.

“I hate flying.”

“Why?”

“Gives me the creeps,” ended the conversation Bunbun. “All I know is that I’m glad we escaped for the ck-ah-t.”

“It’s a cat, Bunbun, it’s a cat!” said Aria.

Bunbun was doing something Aria didn’t expect, banging his head against a rock with his head bouncing off like a ball. “Hey, this rock is even bouncier than the rocks we have.”

“Okay, Bunbun, did we land in the land of balloons?”

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Whatever. I just want to know, what is that?” Aria said slowly. She pointed towards a blue streak in the sky.

“Hi!” came a voice.

“Who is that? Who is that?” cried Bunbun, jumping up and down.

Finally, Aria noticed that it was another girl. “I thought we were the only ones that came to the fantasy world,” she said, cocking her head.

“Yeah, I didn’t know Zelda also came here!”

“Well, I came here having the feeling you would also come here. Sooo, I picked a book off the shelf and started reading to my pet.”

“You mean your pet dragon Urly?”

“Yeah!” she said. “There’s my dragon!” she said, pointing to a very specific wind dragon.

“Well, now we have a dragon, we can move around more efficiently.”

“Not me! Not me!” said Bunbun, jumping into Aria’s shirt.

“Hey! Get out of there!” laughed Aria. “You tickle!”

Finally two small ears poked out of the bottom of Aria’s shirt, then some eyes, then a nose, then Bunbun poked out. Suddenly, wind came

“It’s just a dragon!” Aria hollered over the wind.

“Stop the wind, Urly,” Zelda said. Then the wind died down. 

“Come on Bunbun, get out of my shirt,” Aria said. Unfortunately, while the wind was   going on, Bunbun got really scared and went under Aria’s shirt. It really tickled, so Aria said, “Get out!” 

“Come on, everybody,” said Zelda. “Let’s get on to my dragon.” 

Zelda felt like she shouldn’t do this, but in her head, she heard her dragon’s voice saying don’t worry. It will be fine. 

Okay, Zelda replied in her mind. She slid onto her dragon and helped Bunbun and Aria on. 

Aria said, “You know, I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t be going on Bunbun too hard. He is the smallest bunny I found in the petstore.” 

The dragon was flapping its wings, and it begun to roar. Zelda, Aria and Bunbun could see mountains and streams and hills. Bunbun said he felt like too much of a bird to be a bunny, and Aria giggled. 

“Don’t worry, Bunbun. We aren’t going to turn into cake,” Zelda said. Even though that’s what Bunbun thought Zelda said, when really she had said, “Bunbun are you sure we’re all going to turn into a piece of cake? Because when you think about it…that’s not really true.”

“Where should I ask my dragon to go?” Zelda asked.

“Well we don’t know, but our book might know,” said Aria.

“What do you mean, your book would know?” Zelda was really confused. 

“Oh, we’ll show you.” Bunbun tugged the book out of Aria’s knapsack. 

“It says the fffff….” Bunbun tried to read, but he was not a good reader. 

“Three paces left,” Aria said for him. 

“Change the direction to three paces left and let’s fly there,” Zelda instructed her dragon. 

The dragon nodded. He swooped left. 

“What next?” Zelda asked. 

“Go down,” Aria read. They zoomed down. They slid off. 

“Look,” Bunbun said. “I see a letter.” They looked up and saw a letter.

“How do we get to it?” Bunbun asked.

“I have an idea,” Zelda said. “Come on everyone, stand next to me.”

Everyone raced to her sides.

“Now!” she instructed her dragon. “Get us into the air, please.”

And then a huge gust of wind came under their feet and they started floating up towards the letter. “Can you reach it?” Aria asked.

“No,” Zelda said. “But I think Bunbun can. He’s jumping!”

With one last jump, Bunbun grabbed the letter and they slowly started going down. “Now, let’s place it in the first page of the book, right here,” said Bunbun.

“How?” said Aria.

“Just try,” said Bunbun

Zelda snatched up the first letter and placed it. They watched as the letter slowly slid into place and looked like a printed letter again.

“Okay, first letter. Now let’s keep going,” Zelda said. They slid back onto the wind dragon, and Zelda said, “Fly, dragon, fly! We’ve got letters to find!”

After a while of grunting and looking at the book for directions, Aria finally looked up into the sky.

“Hey guys look! I see a big cluster of letters!” Aria said. The dragon flew up close and Aria snatched it up from the air. “Hey, let’s put them in alphabetical order,” Aria said.

They placed each letter carefully and they all looked like printed letters. But they did not go in alphabetical order. They kept rearranging themselves.

Now the letters spelled: find three things. And then it paused.

“Okay, now I know that,” Aria said, “but I don’t know what the three items are. Now we have to find letters and items!” They kept flying. Then, they landed.

“Guys,” Zelda said. “Let’s eat.” 

Aria took out chocolate. Bunbun took out carrots. And Zelda took out mango strips. They started to eat.

Bunbun chomped down on his perfect carrots he gathered. He said they were the most delicious he had ever tasted. And Aria just laughed. She said, “Of course you like carrots!”

Then Bunbun raced down the hill to the closest river, which was not very far. He was thinking about washing his legs, but he found something. “Hey, guys, I found this cool jewel shaped rock!” he called.

Zelda and Aria came running over with the dragon. “What did you find?” Zelda asked.

“I found this rock,” Bunbun answered.

“Oh!” Aria said. “Let’s see if Zelda’s dragon came to help us out.”

“Hey, Urly, can you help us out?” Zelda said in her mind.

“I am ready!” her dragon answered.

“All you have to do is ask the stone to help,” Zelda said, opening her eyes.

“Okay.”

Bunbun said, “Can you help us, stone?” The stone started to glow and it shot blue beams everywhere. “Yeee!” Bunbun cried.

“Bunbun!” Zelda cried, jumping to the little bunny. She screamed as the beam shot towards her and moved away.

“These beams are crazy,” Aria said.

“Watch out!” Bunbun squeaked.

“Huh?” Aria said.

“Uh oh,” Zelda said.

“Ouch!” Aria cried. “These beams hurt.”

“Hey, where’s Aria?” Bunbun said.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Aria said.

“Where?” Zelda asked.

“Zelda! If you want to find out, you should probably get in the way of those beams,” Bunbun said.

“Okay,” Zelda said, her voice shaking, but anyway, she jumped in the bath of one of the beams. “Ahh!” she cried as she turned invisible.

The bunny fell onto the ground and squealed, as he was also in the way of one of those beams.

Just then, Zelda felt the stone. She grabbed the stone and said, “Where are we going?” The stone shot out more beams, which just made the friends go down and down and down.

Finally, when Aria hit the floor, she heard another voice.

“Aria!! Bunbun! Where are you?” 

Zelda! Aria thought. She’s here! Finally, she heard a thump and a small thump and she saw her friends again.

Zelda was checking around for her dragon, and then she heard a giant cry.

“Ayeeeee!”

“What was that?”

“Ayeeeeeee!”

“What. Was. That?” Aria said.

“Ohhh, I think that’s my dragon,” Zelda said. “Are you hearing me?” she said in her mind.

“Yes,” Urly replied. “I am here. Right beside you. So don’t forget.”

“Okay,” Bunbun breathed. “That is scary.” Urly, wind tornado! Zelda yelled. 

“Something about that phrase reminds me of something scary,” Aria mumbled. Before she could say, “Zelda, this is not a good idea,” the wind started blowing in a circle around them.

Yikes! Bunbun thought as he went spinning in the air. Or, at least he thought he was spinning. His mind was spinning.

“Quiet down!” Zelda said. “There’s so much noise that I cannot concentrate on telling my dragon what to do!”

“Sorry,” Bunbun squealed.

“Down!” Zelda yelled and the tornado slowly went down.

As soon as Aria came to the ground, she put Bunbun down. But that was a tiny mistake because the wind hadn’t died down yet, so Bunbun flew onto Aria’s shoulder. But Zelda hadn’t landed quite yet. She was still going down.

“Ow!” Bunbun yelled, putting his hands on his ears. “I forgot to tell you, I keep hearing that weird voice in my head.

Zelda said, “Are we still invisible?”

“Excuse me,” Bunbun interrupted. “That is not an answer.”

“Yeah, that’s not an answer, but that’s another question.” Aria mixed her own voice into the conversation.

Then Zelda shook her head. “Let me see…”

“Let you see what?” Bunbun said.

“I see letters!” Zelda said. She snatched the letters from the air.

Aria quickly took out the book. She put the letters into alphabetical order, but she knew that they wouldn’t turn out that way. Instead, they saw a character’s name.

“I know that book!” Bunbun said. “Now, let me see, where did I last remember that?” Then his eyes got big.

“Greek mythology!” they all said together.

Aria looked at Zelda. Then she looked at Bunbun. Then she looked at Zelda again. “This is very interesting. We fill up half the book. And now we make different thoughts.”

Zelda grinned. “I have an idea,” she said. She walked up to it and started thinking, how do we get home? Answer. And then suddenly new words filled the book. Find all the letters. “Woah! How did you do that?” Bunbun squealed.

“I thought of a question, and it formed that word and wrote an answer.”

And then Bunbun came up and thought, How do we get those letters? And then new words filled the book. They will come to you once you ask.

It was true. Aria looked above her head and saw a big bundle of letters. She grabbed it. “So we have m, n, o, p, and y.”

“Yeah, we don’t really need the y right now,” Zelda said.

“Oh, right. We’re only up to p right now,” Bunbun said.

Then Zelda came up and thought, are we still invisible? Then new sets of letters filled the book. But then all the other letters, and the ones they had already found came into alphabetical order. The book closed.

Zelda heard her dragon’s reply in her head. The book told me you have to put it all together so you are visible again.

“Oh!” Zelda said. She grabbed the book, opened to the right page, and started putting the letters closer to each other so they wouldn’t be so far apart. Bunbun came up and clapped.

Then there was a silence and Aria disappeared. “Yikes!” Bunbun cried. He jumped into the air and then disappeared in midair.

“Bunbun!” Zelda cried. “Well, you might as well think about it.” Then she looked at her hand. It was slowly fading. “Ahhhhh!” she screamed. Then her whole leg disappeared, and she blinked and saw her friends again. “Oh, there you are, people!”

Aria said, “Well, you might as well still be questioning. You’re not invisible anymore.”

“Yes,” Bunbun breathed. “Were you scared when you saw me jump in the air?”

“What do you mean I saw you? I saw you disappear in midair!”

“Oh, sorry!” Bunbun said.

Aria said, “S, c, l, z, y. I’m waiting, people!”

Bunbun opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it because he knew Aria was pretty annoyed. Bunbun shuddered. “It’s cold in here!”

“Oh, right, I forgot to give you your sweater,” Aria said. She handed him his sweater.

“Thanks, Mom!” Bunbun said.

Aria shot him a quick look. Then she looked at Zelda and said, “Can you tell this dragon to fly us up again?”

“Wind tornado, please!” said Zelda, facing Urly.

Suddenly, the wind started to blow, and it circled around them and lifted them up.

I’m crazy, Bunbun thought.

“Bunbun, Zelda, look,” she cried. They all looked. It looked like a smear in the sky. “There’s the rest of the letters! And there is the portal shaped stone!”

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking!” Zelda said. She grabbed the book, Bunbun grabbed the letters, and Aria grabbed the stone.

Bunbun quickly put the letters into place and Aria shouted, “Let’s go wherever this stone takes us to!”

The wind started blowing even harder. It spun and spun and spun until everything went black for Zelda, Bunbun, and Aria.

A few minutes later, Zelda made everything turn back to normal. “Aria, Aria, look! There’s Bunbun’s house! And there’s yours! And there’s mine.” 

“Aria! Wake up!” Zelda said.

“Huh?”Aria said. 

“Stop dreaming that we are at home,” Bunbun said.

“Okay, okay,” Aria stammered. “Where are we anyway?”

“We’re not anywhere yet,” Bunbun said. “We’re still in the magical wind that this stone is taking us into.”

“Oh, really? How confusing,” Aria said.

Zelda was still listening to what Zelda and Bunbun were saying, but her hearing kind of trailed off because she was looking at something else.

Aria whirled around to start talking to Zelda, but then her mouth just hung open. “Zelda! Why are you upside down?”

“I don’t know myself,” Zelda said, her hands hanging in the air.

Suddenly, Bunbun was also up in the air.

Yikes, Aria thought. I think I’ll go somewhere else so I don’t end up upside down like that. But before she could start running away, her foot was slowly going up into the air. Then her other foot, and then her hands were hanging upside down.

So, she thought to herself, if this stone is going to go crazy on us, I’m going to go crazy on it. But how?

Aria remembered that she had always wished to do magic. She said, “Zelda, you know a lot about this place don’t you?”

“Well, sort of,” Zelda said.

Then Aria said, “Can people do magic around here if they weren’t able to do it in the true world?”

“Yes, I think,” she said.

“Ohhh-kay,” Aria said. “Let me try.” She tried her best to point at the cloud they were hanging in. Finally, she was able to do it and she started chanting to herself, “Make this cloud go away if you can.” Then suddenly, Aria and the others were flipped right side up and upside down again, and they kept flipping like that until they finally hit the ground.

Ouch! Bunbun thought. “Mama!” he called.

Aria landed right next to Bunbun, where Zelda landed right next Aria.

“Why did you do that? And how?” Bunbun asked.

“First,” Zelda said, “I have to–”

“SCREEEEE OCK NEE OCK!”

“Oh, bother,” Zelda said. “Stop making those ridiculous sounds, Urly.”

Spreeeeee,” her dragon cried.

“Oh, really?” Zelda said. “Why don’t you just lay down and rest so you don’t have to make those sounds anymore. Ahhh, okay that solved it,” Zelda said.

“Wait!” Bunbun cried. “I wanna try too.” He pointed his tiny paws at one leaf. “Make this leaf flow up!” he said. It floated up and flew on his ear. Bunbun brushed the leaf off his ear.

“Me too!” Zelda said. She pointed her finger at Aria, which scowled.

“Don’t, Zelda!” she said.

Zelda lifted an eyebrow and started singing. “Make her float on a tree!”

Yikes, Bunbun thought to himself again.

But then Aria started lifting on the tree. “Ohh, Zelda, get me down!” She said between bumps. Then she floated back down on the ground.

“Ohhh,” Bunbun said. Then Bunbun smiled big and said, “Make that cloud turn into cotton candy. Yum!” Bunbun squealed at the cotton candy cloud, which slowly went to the ground.

Aria laughed. “Okay little bunny. You can have some cotton candy while we talk.”

Bunbun jumped onto the small little cotton candy cloud and ate it. Sadly, he said, “does this still make people turn black and white?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, yeah, I’m still black and white.”

Then, Bunbun had the greatest idea anyone has ever had. He shouted, “Make it rain rainbow drops!” The ground started to shake and then rainbow drops started splattered everywhere, and wherever they landed, color returned. “That’s way better!” Bunbun said, zooming down the hill.

“Oh, bother, little Bunbun,” Aria said.

“Oh, right,” Zelda said. “He might have just run down the hill.” She stepped on the hill and slid down.

Aria hesitated for a moment, but then slid down and saw Bunbun.

“Bunbun, what did I tell you about–”

“Is my mouth black and white?” Bunbun said. 

“Yes,” Aria said.

Bunbun opened his mouth and a few rainbow drops flew in.

“I wonder when we’re going to have time to stop talking about this nonsense.”

“I wonder that too,” Aria said.

“Well, I think it’s going to be now,” Zelda said. “I see the letter z.”

“Z?”

“And it’s golden.”

“Oh, really? Let’s pick it up then.”

Zelda snatched the letter z and placed it in the book and said, “I hope this forms something useful.”

And the book did form something useful. The words came: home.

“Yay!” Bunbun squeaked. “Home!” He took a step, dove straight into the words, and vanished.

“Bunbun!” Zelda cried. She jumped into the book and vanished too.

“I’m so glad we can go home,” Aria said, and she dove into the words too.

“Yay! Home! Home!” she heard a tiny voice squeal.

“Oh, my dragon flew into the book too!” she heard another voice say.

Ock nee spreee!”

Aria found herself lying in the autumn leaves as everything was turning more autumn, sort of.

Then a gentle pitter-patter hit her on the face.

“Are you going home?” Bunbun said.

“No,” Aria said. “I think I’ll stay with Zelda.

the end

The Mustache

I once thought that leaves were leaves 

now i think they’re feelings in search of a place, a bench, 

someone’s hair, a finger isn’t that like us going from place looking to feel alive.

I walked my dog on a cold night past the stars and moon

I walked my dog across the street into the lagoon

I walked my dog out of the lagoon 

But now my dog went kabloom for thousands of frogs got in his fur

The Mustache

I wish I had a mustache

One with little pointy ends

Or maybe even the ones with little curls at the end

Maybe I want the ones with droopy ends

But for all I want

Is a mustache                                           

Author’s Note

I wish that Writopia would never end, but sometimes good things have to end, like your babysitter leaving or maybe a loved one passing, but we are strong.   

One and One Blackbirds

The teacher, Mr. Sermon, was beginning his sermon, who Peter believed was named perfectly for what he always did. Peter Handle was a young boy, he had dark brown locks, green eyes and always wore a mischievous smile. He spent his time getting himself into mischief and scrapes. He was an average student. He didn’t pay attention, he stared at the floor, or he mostly started at Annabelle. 


Annabelle was a young girl with black hair and blue eyes. She was the living opposite of Peter. She was calm and he was loud. He was a prankster where she was a reader. But it made sense that Peter liked her. She was beautiful, kind and smart. She was everything to Peter, as well as other boys. 

Annabelle wasn’t sure about Peter. He was kind and gentle when they were together. It was like he melted at her face. Annabelle didn’t know what she felt towards him. It couldn’t be love? Could it?

At this particular moment Mr. Sermon was beginning to speak about the history of the Civil and Revolutionary Wars, and Peter, like most days, was looking past him. At Annabelle. Annabelle knew he was looking but for some reason she didn’t mind. For some reason she liked it. Like always she listened intently to the professor, taking notes theatrically. The boys behind her laughed at her. Mr. Sermon glared their way and that shut them up. Annabelle sat high in her seat, pretending those boys didn’t exist. 

“Peter, I believe that I am teaching the lesson. Not Annabelle’s back.” said Mr. Sermon, stopping his lesson. The boys sniggered. He rounded on them. “And what is so funny?” The boys shut up. 

Annabelle had remained silent through this ordeal and she continued for the lesson after Mr. Sermon began again. She still didn’t know she felt about him, even after being with him his whole life.

Annabelle sat by herself at lunch that day. She squinted at her food forcing herself not to look around at the empty seats surrounding her. On the other side of the room, as far as they could get from her were the boys. They lifted up Peter and smiled smugly at him. They threw him up in the air. They threw him on the table. No one stopped them. The last thing she saw before she ran was him, a black eye, a red face, looking at her, pleading. 

Annabelle ran. She just needed to not see Peter like that again. She ran, throwing her box and bag away from her as she ran towards a corner. She ran and ran and ran and she tried to slow down. She tried as hard as she could. The wall was closing in. Her feet wouldn’t obey her mind. She ran and ran and — her head snapped against the wall. Her eyes closed. And she sunk down and began to weep. She hated those boys even more now. She had run because of them, had — she turned and looked in the mirror. Her face was black and bloody and her eye was black and swollen like Peters. Her nose was red and her mouth was blue. 

And then she saw Peter running. And then he saw her. He stopped. He swallowed and he whispered to her “You’re still beautiful…. You’re still Annabelle… You still have me.”

Annabelle looked up at him. Maybe he wasn’t like the other boys. It wasn’t love, but at that moment she liked Peter Handle. She felt she owed him something. Peter slid down the wall to sit next to her, and took her hand. Annabelle looked at him, and smiled. She smiled for the first time in ages. She smiled because she had a friend. One friend was enough, if they were anything like Peter.


Peter knew that everyone knew that he liked Annabelle. He knew he let it show. He knew that, that was why he was laughed at: She hates you, scum, and, You’ll never beat me you little brat. He knew his life was in jeopardy because he liked her. But nothing could stop him from liking her. At that moment, the two of them hand in hand, bleeding and swollen he could have never felt better. 

As Annabelle smiled it was as if a bird cawed in his chest. As she squeezed his hand it was as if a fire had been lit in his heart. Hurt as he was, he wished this moment would last forever.

“Friends?” she asked, smiling.

“Forever,” he replied looking into her eyes solemnly, “Forever and ever.”

The two could be called inseparable. Maybe after certain things you can’t not be friends. Suddenly their lives were filled with warmth. Suddenly Peter had someone to talk to, someone to live for, someone to be with, someone to love. Maybe it wasn’t love. Not just yet, but that feeling of his stomach cawing and a fire burning… It was close to love, he knew that. 

They now both had something new. A friend. Neither had felt something quite like that. They had both been shunned their whole lives and they finally could show who they were. To each other. Peter hoped they would keep their promise. Friends Forever. 

That day, one hundred and sixty days since the beginning of school and twenty-six days since their friendship began, they began a ritual. Both Peter and Annabelle lived at the city orphanage. Peter’s mother had died and his father gave him up, not being able to feed two mouths. Annabelle had told him that her mother and father had thought she was a disgrace to humankind and had sent her away. The orphanage master said that they would never have to see her filthy face again. The master had stayed true to his word. Their ritual began at the orphanage. They would walk hand in hand toward the meadow. There they would each pick up the smallest pebble they could find. They would each touch their stones together and throw them up into the air. It became a game after a while. They tried to catch their stones or find them on the ground. And then they would walk to school again. It was just a little thing but they both took great joy in it and they began to do it each day for the rest of their lives.

MESSI AND THE THREE LITTLE

There once lived the only best soccer player that ever lived! His name was Lionel Messi. One hot and bright afternoon in summer, Messi came on the court to practice for his big game, sweating like nobody had ever sweat before. He looked like an ice cream cone melting in the sun.

The soccer balls saw him coming by that afternoon. All three balls were going crazy for him. The soccer balls’ names were Frank, Macy, and Nicky, and they were new balls, so they didn’t know much about Messi. They were just ordered a week ago from Amazon, and they were delivered in a box that was in a truck that went to the court, where they ordered tons of other balls.

But when Messi walked into the court the balls started to get scared; they’d never been kicked before. One of the balls tried to scream but it was so scared that no sound came out. Nobody could even hear a peep! The three little balls noticed that they were on the top rack, so Messi was probably going to pick one of them! This was so scary for the balls.

The first ball he chose, Frank, was the least smart in the soccer ball rack. Messi held the first ball, and as he took him away, Frank screamed loudly for help. “Help!” Frank screamed while Messi was lowering him down slowly. As he placed Frank on the ground, Frank was terrified. Frank rolled away as fast as he could. Right when Messi placed Frank to the floor, Frank went to the goal. Messi thought it was just a slope; the ball went in the soccer goal. “There, you happy now? I’m going to kick your butt one day!” Frank said. Frank was even crazier than Messi.

Messi reached for the other ball. He got the second ball, Nicky, in the rack of soccer balls. He was ordinary, like all the other balls in the rack. When Messi took Nicky, Nicky was terrified, then Messi put him on the ground hoping that Nicky wasn’t going to move. Messi went to the bathroom. It took Messi pretty long. Every ball thought that he was eating beans. When he came back, Messi was shocked to see that Nicky was gone, and he was getting frustrated. It turned out that Nicky was hiding behind the soccer rack. Messi’s face was turning red, in a way that the balls thought looked funny. “Hehehe,” said the balls.

The Drama

Messi sat down and was really annoyed. He took a water break and kept on thinking about why all the balls were going away. He couldn’t see any of them. He also kept on thinking about if he was going to win the big game, and how many hours he should be training. I wish I could have a break, Messi whispered in his head. But he knew he couldn’t, because then he would not be able to win the big game. 

Messi knew he had to change his schedule to win his soccer game. Another really good team was playing against them. Messi changed his schedule from two hours of practice, to four hours of practice. And when Messi did that, he felt proud. I don’t know why he was so proud, it was just a little fix. Anyway, he got up and kissed both his muscles.

Messi went to the soccer ball rack and somehow got the smartest ball, Macy. While Messi was placing Macy down, she had a big grin on her face, and she also had a big check on her back to know that she got everything right. When Messi put her on the ground, in just one blink Macy was gone. It turned out that she was also the fastest runner in the rack, and she was hiding in Messi’s soccer bag. Messi opened his eyes and saw that the ball wasn’t there again. He was furious. “Why, why me?” he said in a whisper. Then he said, “OH DARN IT!” Then he left the court.

-THE END-

Escape Mars

Stuck on Mars: Part 1

Alex is an astronaut in NASA. He loves going to space, and he’s always wanted to go to Mars. Alex got a mission to go to Mars, but since Alex was so excited to go to Mars, he didn’t check the fuel or the engine, and he didn’t pack any tools. 

Nothing went wrong for the 6 months, but when Alex was really close to Mars, everything started to go wrong. Alarms were going off, the engine broke, the ship was out of fuel. Since Alex packed no tools, he couldn’t fix the engine, and Alex packed no extra fuel tanks either.

Since the engine was broken and they only had a little bit of fuel, they had a crash landing on Mars. Alex got some scratches and bruises, but the injuries were not big. However, the rocket was torn into pieces. Alex had water and food, but not many packets because Alex was only planning on staying for two or three days. Alex had to eat only tiny bits of food a day, or else there was no way of getting out of Mars.

It’s been two months, and Alex is still stranded on Mars. Alex tried an emergency message, but it didn’t go through because the rocket was torn apart. Just when Alex was losing hope, he saw something in the distance: it was another astronaut.

 Escaping Mars: Part 2 

Alan is an astronaut in NASA. Alan had a mission to go to Mars. Before he went to Mars, he read a newspaper story saying there was a missing astronaut. It took Alan seven months to

get to Mars. Alan was trying to find out if people can live on Mars, if there were any living creatures there, and if there was food and water. 

When Alan was close to Mars, he saw that the rocket was running out of fuel, but he thought it would be fine. So when he got to Mars, he looked around, but he found no food and water, and no living creatures. At that point, he went back to the rocket. When he got to his seat, he saw that the rocket ran out of fuel, so he had to go back outside and see if there was a fuel source somewhere on Mars.

Alan went to the back of the rocket ship where the storage was kept. He found a shovel so he took it with him. Alan knew he had lots of food and water, he was just hoping it would last long enough till he found a fuel source. Alan went outside and started digging. It took him a month. Alan was so tired, but then he found a little bit more of the fuel source, so he knew he had to keep digging. He also knew he was running out of food and water so he had to dig much faster.

It’d been a week, and Alan had found a little fuel, but he only had a few packs of food and water left. So from three meals a day, it became two and then one meal a day. Back at NASA, they knew it would take at least a year, but it’d been almost two years, so they sent Alan a message that they were sending fuel. When Alan got the message, he was relieved that they were sending some fuel. After a week, he got the fuel, but when he put the fuel in the rocket it still wasn’t enough, so he had to keep digging.

After a few days, he only had one more pack of food left, so he sent a message to NASA and asked them for more food packs. NASA replied that they were out of food packs, so Alan could only have bit by bit of food every day. Finally the day had come when he had found enough fuel in the ground to fill up the rocket ship. When Alan finished filling up the rocket ship, he checked the food packs and knew that if he had a little bit of food everyday, he might make it seven months.

After seven months, he made it back to earth, but he was starving. He had a big feast with burgers and french fries. 

“I couldn’t find any water or food and I couldn’t find living creatures,” NASA told Alan after the feast. “But I did find some fuel source in the ground, so if we can go to Mars one more time, I think we can find something there.” 

“We will make another rocket for you but this time you have to find something,” NASA said.

“Ok,” Alan replied.

Alan got ready for his second mission, but this time he knew he couldn’t fail.

While Alan was packing up for his next trip to Mars, he got a call saying that something went wrong with the rocket and the engine had blown up, but they had fix it before Alan went to space. They had no time to postpone the launch, so they quickly fixed it up and hoped that the rocket would still work. Alan sat down on his seat and looked at how much fuel he had. It said it was full fuel, but what Alan didn’t know was that something was going wrong with the engine. The blast off was successful, but Alan felt something would go wrong.

It’d been six months, nothing was wrong with the engine, and they were almost to Mars. Since nothing went wrong for six months, Alan was just relaxing. But as soon as Alan was

going to sit down and relax, an alarm went off. Red lights were everywhere. Alan ran back to 

where the engine was. He got some tools, but nothing could fix it, so he used tape to tape

the wires together. The alarm went off and everything was fine again. But Alan knew that tape

wouldn’t hold for long, so he had to be faster.

One month later, Alan was so close to Mars. All he needed to do was to land, but the alarm went off and he couldn’t fix it, so Alan had a rough landing. Alan got some injuries and the rocket needed fixing, so Alan wrapped up his injuries and started to fix the rocket. But Alan didn’t have all the supplies to fix the engine, so he had to send an emergency message through the satellites to NASA. They got the message and sent some tools in another rocket ship. Alan fixed up the rocket, but something went wrong again: the fuel tank was empty. Alan thought that the fuel must have dripped out of the rocket ship, because when he saw the fuel for the first time, it said it was full.

Alan knew he couldn’t send another emergency message because he was limited to one, but he had an idea: he took the shovel and went outside. He started digging. He kept digging and digging, but this time he couldn’t find a fuel source, so he walked farther and farther. Finally when he found a fuel source, he got up and looked around, but he couldn’t see the rocket ship. Alan had an idea: to follow his footprints. But they weren’t there – the wind must have made the sand cover all the footprints. Alan had another plan. The plan was to go backwards. Alan kept going backwards for hours and hours, but he could see nothing.

A few hours later, he saw something far away. It was his rocket ship! Alan was so relieved that he started running to the rocket ship, but since he could only find one place with a fuel source, he had to drag the big rocket ship with him all the way to the fuel source. It took him 

three days without stopping to get to the fuel source with the big rocket. When he reached the fuel source, it was night, and Alan was really tired, so he went to sleep.

The next day, Alan started digging, but Alan’s left hand was injured so he could 

only dig with his right which made him slower. After four weeks he found some more fuel, but Alan knew he needed to find more fuel. In the morning the day he saw something in the distance he found another astronaut. Alan ran to the other astronaut. Alan thought that that astronaut must have also lost fuel and was stuck on Mars. Alan went to the other man and asked him what his name was. 

“My name is Alex,” said Alex. 

“How much fuel do you have?” Alan asked. 

“I have half fuel,” Alex said.

Alan also had half fuel. “So if we put our fuel together we’ll have full fuel,” Alan thought. 

“Let’s put our fuel together in one rocket ship then we can both get out of Mars,” Alan said.

“Ok,” said Alex.

So Alex and Alan put their fuel together and they had enough fuel to go back to Earth. They both went in Alan’s rocket ship, but when they tried to blast off, the rocket said too much weight, so one person had to come off. 

“I’ll come off,” Alan said. 

“When I get to Earth, I’ll bring a rocket ship to you with full fuel,” Alex said.

“Ok,” Alan said.

After a few weeks, Alan saw a rocket ship. It landed where he was. Alan was so happy to see the rocket because had no food the whole time and he was starving. Alan went in the rocket ship and started eating. After he was full, Alan started to blast off.

Seven months later, Alan got back to Earth. He couldn’t get any information on the Martian fuel source, but that was ok because he found the astronaut that went missing in space.

Three talons of the stars: The start of the adventure

CHAPTER 1

Flame was a 10 year old orange, yellow, and red fire dragon that wanted to go indoor skydiving. He planned to go to the “Joy of Flying” skydiving center. There were a couple problems though. First of all, Flame wouldn’t fit through the door of the skydiving center, and second, how would these two-legged creatures feel if there was a dragon indoor skydiving in a tube? You might be thinking, well, why would a dragon want to go skydiving when he could fly? Flame wanted to see what It was like to fly without wings.

One day, Flame was sitting under a tree thinking, my life isn’t very exciting. What’s something that I can do that’s not a part of my daily life? All of a sudden, Flame saw a bird flying up at a very high speed, and then plummeting towards the lake. It’s too bad that I can’t do that. 

“Wait!” Flame said, his eyes shining in excitement. “I can go skydiving!” 

Flame decided that he would go indoor skydiving, because the sound of hurtling down at the earth from 10,000 feet was horrifying to him. He realized that there were problems though. Flame got on the computer and searched ‘Skydiving centers for dragons.’ He found one that was called ‘Sky Dragons’. Flame was going to fly to the ‘Sky Dragons’ center. It was about a five day journey. He grabbed a bag, and shoved a few simple things in his bag. He put a flashlight, five boots, four bottles of water, some nuts, honey, and a book. 

“I’m ready to start my adventure!” He shouted. 

He really was about to start an adventure.  

CHAPTER 2

It was starting to get dark, and the night was cold and the clouds were thick. There was no sign of the moon that night. Flame decided to settle down for the night in a small patch of trees. He made himself a mossy nest, had a few nuts, and went to bed. 

It was early in the morning and all of a sudden, a gigantic wasp flew over to Flame and started buzzing in his ear. Flame was annoyed and then worried. What if the wasp sucked all of his blood out and he turned into a raisin? Quickly, he mixed some honey with water, and threw it on the wasp. The wasp flew away, and Flame was left unharmed. 

Flame was fully awake now, and decided to go to the lake to catch some breakfast. Flame sat at the edge of the lake patiently with one claw raised. He made sure that the fish couldn’t see his shadow. Slash! Flame swiped the fish right out of the water with his claw. He walked back to where he put his stuff and went to look for sticks. Flame found two sticks that he could use as stakes and one pointy stick to put the fish on. He also found some dead leaves and twigs. The dragon broke the sharp twig in two and put one end in the fish’s mouth, and one end in the tail. He breathed fire onto the pile of dead leaves and twigs. After 10 minutes the fish was cooked. The meal was eaten, and Flame was on his way. Flame flew a little way, then something caught his eye. It was Mistyclaw! The dragon that he had met from school. 

“Hey Mistyclaw! It’s me, Flame! Want to join me on my trip to go indoor skydiving?!” 

“I’m free, so I’ll come!” Mistyclaw replied.

Mistyclaw and Flame flew together and talked about the journey ahead, and the current news, until it was dark.”

All right. We should settle here for the night. I’ll grab dinner, while you get some moss for beds.” Flame said. They had their meal and settled down to rest.

CHAPTER 3

The next day, Flame and Mistyclaw found a black dragon named Nightstar that wanted to go indoor skydiving with them. All of a sudden, the three came to a huge creek, filled with lava and a volcano erupting behind it. 

“Oh everything will be fine. What could possibly go wrong?” Flame asked. 

“Uhhh, that?” Nightstar said, followed by a “Lookout!” The volcano decided to erupt and spewed lava everywhere. Flame and Nightstar flew out of the way, but Mistyclaw was too late and the lava dragged her into the boiling lava lake. 

“Mistyclaw!” Flame screeched, just as he heard an agonized scream. Flame and Nightstar flew over to the lava lake and saw Mistyclaw pull herself out of the lava lake. 

“I…I’m okay,” Mistyclaw mumbled, and all of a sudden she burst into laughter, showing  no signs of tiredness or pain. 

“You dum dums,” she choked out, “our scales are fireproof, remember?” 

“You scared the claws off us Mistyclaw! Never, I mean never do that again.”

They stopped for the night, ate some nuts and drank some water, and then went to bed.

“Tomorrow is going to be a very hard journey!” Flame warned. They had no idea.

CHAPTER 4: NIGHTSTAR

The sun was scorching hot and I was thirsty. I knew my friends needed that water though, so I kept my mouth shut. All of a sudden, everything started spinning and my legs gave way. My friends had reduced to smudgy blobs and my head was throbbing. My consciousness was swept away like a shell on the beach, and I blacked out. 

CHAPTER 5

“Nightstar! NIGHTSTAR!” Flame called. 

He was horrified. Flame quickly unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and walked over to Nightstar. He tipped the bottle so the water came out and he poured it into Nightstar’s jaws. 

“Huh? Is that you, Flame?” Nightstar said. 

“Nightstar’s too weak to journey on,” Mistyclaw said. “Let’s rest here for the night.” They found a coconut tree and settled down. That night, they ate coconut flesh and drank coconut water. Soon they were all fast asleep. 

CHAPTER 6: MISTYCLAW

I woke up at 3AM. My friends were fast asleep. I didn’t know that soon, everyone would be wide awake with fear, and that I’d be in so much pain. I heard snuffling noises and I reached for Flame’s flashlight. All of a sudden, a huge shadow appeared in front of me and when I shone the flashlight on it, I screamed. It was a gigantic cheetah.

The beast lunged for me. My friends were now wide awake. We knew that a cheetah’s claws and teeth could pierce our scales. I swerved to the right and sank my talons into the cheetah’s skin. The black-spotted beast howled and swung its head around so it faced me. My friends were too late to help me 

The cheetah sunk its teeth into my shoulder and pulled. It tore out the top layer of my skin. I fell into a heap and watched a sea of blood run from my shoulder as my friends fought the cheetah. I felt like my blood was on fire, and I was losing my grip on my consciousness. The last thing that I remember is my friends hovering over me as the cheetah lay limp in the distance.

CHAPTER 7:  

“Please wake up, please wake up!” Flame begged. He had used a coconut leaf and some cobwebs to stem Mistyclaw’s bleeding, but she still wouldn’t wake up. All of a sudden, Mistyclaw’s eyes opened a little bit and she took in one ragged breath. They helped her move into the shade of the coconut tree. Soon, they all fell asleep again. 

“So, we have one more day of hard traveling and then we get to go indoor skydiving!” Flame said. Mistyclaw was feeling well enough to travel, and had taken off the coconut leaf bandage.

They left the desert and came to a place that was frosty, cold, and full of ice. Wham! A ball of snow hit Flame in the face. He looked around to see if there was any danger, but all he saw was Nightstar trying to hold in his laughter. Flame smiled. If Nightstar wanted to have a snowball fight, he would have it. Flame carefully sculpted a snowball and rolled it in the snow until it was as big as half of his body. 

“NIGHTSTAR! MISTYCLAW! LOOK… OUT!” Flame flung the snowball at Nightstar and Mistyclaw who were conveniently standing together to save heat. The snowball broke apart and sent huge chunks of snow flying everywhere. Mistyclaw and Nightstar were completely buried! After the two climbed out of the snow, they were going to start walking  again. All of a sudden, a low growling noise came from inside one of the caves behind Flame.

 “Oh no…”   

CHAPTER 8: MISTYCLAW

I knew it. They were wolves. They could tear our scales, just like cheetahs. I don’t know what I was thinking. I slowly approached the wolves. All of a sudden, they leapt. I jumped over some of them. One of them was just begging to be bitten. I sunk my teeth into that piece of fox dung. He dropped to the ground. Dead. The other wolves of the pack reared on me. My friends lept on them, holding them back. I knew they wanted to protect me. Suddenly, a huge wolf stomped out of the cave. The other wolves ran back into the cave. It leapt on my friends. 

I couldn’t do anything. I had to watch my friends get tortured. I felt so heartbroken, seeing them get beaten, while I had to lay there, watching the whole story unfold. After what seemed like hours, the wolf left my friends alone. They were battered, bloody, and scarred for life. I took them to the nearest hospital, which was 45 minutes away. By then they were barely breathing. I didn’t know if they’d survive.

CHAPTER 9:

Mistyclaw was sitting by the lake. The water was cool and refreshing. She dipped her talons in and out of the water. Every now and then, she licked up a couple drops of lake water. Her shoulder hurt, and she was very tired. On her shoulder, there was a layer of pink, fresh skin, where new scales had not grown yet. 

 I wish that my friends were here. I feel so bad about what happened, and even worse, it’s all my fault! Mistyclaw thought. A few tears fell from her eyes. Mistyclaw closed her eyes, and soon she was asleep. The sun was setting, and the glow of the setting sun shone on the lake, making it sparkle.

CHAPTER 10:

Mistyclaw went to visit her friends at the dragon hospital. She went to Flame and Nightstar’s room.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” she asked them.

They both said that they were fine, and that they were getting better. Soon, my friends were out of the hospital and they were healthy dragons again

 “Hey, we still need to go skydiving! I’m well enough! How about you, Nightstar?” Flame said.

 “Yup! I’m alright!” Nightstar said. 

The skydiving center was only thirty minutes away now. They three friends managed to make it to the center without getting into more trouble. 

“We’re finally here!” Flame shouted. 

CHAPTER 11: 

The dragons put their gear on and listened to instructions. Then they stepped into the tube and went flying. 

“Woohoo!” Flame shouted. Nightstar and Mistyclaw just smiled. Sure, this was really fun, but the adventure that they had together was even better. 

LEARN ABOUT THE CHARACTERS:

The Heist

The dark clothed figure walked up to the steel gate. The two guards standing in front of the gate, bathed in moonlight, crossed their large rifles in front of the figure. 

“Hold it right there mister,” one of the guards said. They didn’t notice Chase hiding in the bush on the side of the pathway, stealthily pointing his stun gun at the left guard. 

“In position?” Rana said into the coms in Chase’s ear. 

“Yes. Are you ready?” Chase replied, glancing over to the small dark haired, Asian girl in the branches of a tree across the path, also pointing a stun gun. 

“Yes,” Rana replied. Kane, the boy at the gate, produced a small yellow card, handing it to the guards.

“They’re about to notice the fake,” Chase whispered. 

“Shh,” Kane whispered into the coms, “Three, two, one, fire.” The sound of both Rana and Chase’s stun guns going off sounded through the pathway up to the gate. Both of the guards went down. Rana and Chase rose from their hiding places and started towards the gate of the Vault. 

Kane grabbed the real card off of the guards kevlar vests and inserted it into the lock at the gate. The gate opened and all stood to the side of the gate raising their stun guns and waiting to see or hear if they had tripped the alarm. Helen, a taller, red haired girl slunk towards the wall at the side of the gate. Helen scaled the wall and towards the camera, she opened the information card in the camera and inserted a new one, loaded with viruses. 

One by one, they walked stealthily through the gate, into the Vault. 

“You’ve got an hour to pull off the heist or we’re taking the stealth chopper out of here,” Rider said through the coms. “I’m still trying to convince the pilot that this is a good idea.”

“You said it yourself,” Kane replied. “You were the one who tried to convince us that this was a good idea.”

“You still want revenge, don’t you Kane,” Rider said back. Kane didn’t have a reply for that.

“We all want something out of this,” Chase said, ending the conversation. They headed to the side entrance that they had found through their inside person. 

“Is the loop for the camera feed ready,” Helen asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Rider replied from inside the helicopter. They headed inside and worked their way through the complex. The maze of hallways confused all of them, but Rider managed to keep their team steady as they worked their way through the complex. 

* * *

Dylan Hart was having a bad day. He was the head security manager of the Vault, a place where the authorities stored the worlds hardest to find blueprints, prisons, banks, you name it, the blueprint of it was here. It had some of the world’s best cameras, guards, and maybe not the best security manager. On the way to work, he tripped and hit his head on the concrete. Of course, his boss, X, leader of the Empire, had forced him to continue on with work. His headache was incessant from his fall, as well as watching nothing happen on the security cameras. Nothing ever happened. Ever. 

But, Dylan wasn’t complaining. He was paid very handsomely for doing nothing. But, he always had to keep looking at the security cameras. The last security manager was blown to bits by landmines in the doorway of his house for failing X. X was very harsh and if you messed up around him, you paid the price. 

His eyes fluttered closed as he reached extensive boredom, and sleep found its way into his tired and sore mind.

* * *

As the different team members of the heist went their separate ways, Chase made his way to the actual vault part of the Vault. Helen had gone into the security room and hooked up more bad footage. Rider had stolen electronic versions of as many files as possible. Rana was in the server room and working on the servers, and Kane had gone ahead to scout the way for Chase.

“Everybody in position?” Chase asked through the coms. “Is it clear for me to grab the blueprints?”

“Yes,” the team all chorused quietly in unison. Chase quickly made his way up the long hallway, avoiding the lasers and cameras and got to the titanium double doors leading into the Vault.

“Do you have the code, Rider?” Chase asked.

“Yes. It is 3417-A49D-CV21. Do you have that?” Rider replied.

“Yes, on it,” Chase said, putting the long string of digits and letters into the machine. It made a beeping noise and slid open. Chase slid inside and looked slowly around the room, awe spreading throughout him that the rumors of the Vault’s reputation were true.

“Whoa,” Chase said. 

“Stick to it, Chase,” Kane said, “We don’t have all day.”

Chase looked around before grabbing the blueprint they needed: the safest bank in the world. He also snagged as many other blueprints as could fit in his arms and satchel.

Chase almost dropped all of the blueprints as Helen, in the security room said something into the coms. 

“What did you say, Helen?” Chase asked.

“I said, ‘I think we might have a problem’,” Helen replied.

* * *

As Dylan Hart’s eyes fluttered open, he looked up to see a tall, red haired girl hacking his security monitor.

“What the hell,” Dylan said. Helen turned around, her face paled before she said, “I think we might have a problem.” 

Dylan reached into his back pocket and pulled out a Glock 17 handgun and pointed it at Helen. 

“What are you doing here and give me a reason why I shouldn’t gun you down.” Dylan said menacingly. Helen raised her arms, while saying, “I said, ‘I think we might have a problem’.”

“Who are you talking to, miss?” Dylan asked.

“I –” Helen started to say, before dropping to the ground in a defensive position. Dylan fired his gun at the place Helen had been, but Helen had already risen up and punched Dylan in the stomach. Dylan fired one more shot, blindly, before clutching his stomach in pain. The bullet seemed to travel in slow motion, to Helen, before burying itself in her shoulder.

Helen screamed in pain before launching forward and trying to grab the Glock 17 Dylan had dropped. Dylan also tried to grasp the handgun and they both got their hands around the gun.

“We have caught a heist team in the act,” Dylan said into his coms, alerting the rest of the security team that there was a heist going on. 

Alarms blared throughout the building and Helen kicked Dylan in the chest, before snatching the Glock 17 away from him. Dylan staggered back as Helen cocked the weapon and aimed it at Dylan’s head.

Dylan held his hands up in surrender, realizing that there was no way out of this. Well, maybe there was.

Two security guards rushed up the stairs to the security office, right before hearing a bang. They readied their rifles and got ready to blow open the office door.

Helen readied the Glock 17 and then the door blew open off its hinges.

The two security guards rushed inside to find a tall, red haired, American girl pointing a pistol at the head security manager’s head. The walls of the office were scorched from the blast and the two guards pointed their AK-47s at the girl.

“Stand down, both of you,” the first guard said.

“Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air,” the second guard said, quickly after the first. “You’re under arrest.”

The first guard moved toward Helen with handcuffs, while the second maintained his AK-47 on Helen.

The handcuffs bit into Helen’s skin as they clamped around her wrist. Things kept getting worse and worse.

* * *

Chase was getting worried. Helen had not responded to his couple of tries to see what was going on and he had heard the gunshots. Then, finally, Chase got a response from Helen.

“Code 9,” Helen said into the mike. “Co-.”

Helen was cut short when Chase heard the microphone being taken away and smashed. 

“Guy’s,” Kane said, “Helen’s been captured. We need to go. NOW.”

Chase grabbed the blueprints and started to run out of the complex.

“What about Helen,” Chase asked.

“She’s not coming back, Chase,” Rana said. “They’re going to interrogate her.”

As the remaining members of the heist team made their way out of the building and to the stealth helicopter, Helen was struggling as she was forced into the back of a military vehicle.

As Helen pressed her face against bars of the cage she was in, she saw, through the barred window at the back of the vehicle, the team rising into the sky in the stealth chopper.

“Don’t let them break you,” Chase said through the back of the helicopter. Helen wished she could respond, but the gag in her mouth prevented her.

Don’t let them break you.

A year earlier:

Chase walked down the hallway of the science building of his high school. The Empire had taken a lot from him when he was young. His father. His mother’s money. Their home. It had been rough, so when an adult asked him if he wanted to join a group of rebels against the Empire, he was ready to accept.

Chase went to the rebel’s hideout to find a bunch of other teenagers. They said that they had been trying to find someone who could steal and they also knew that Chase could steal. And he did it a lot. 

The reason that they needed someone who could steal was because they needed a lot of money to take down the Empire. They were going to steal the money from the most secure bank in the world to show them that the rebels had teeth.

Chase was the last person for the heist. Rana, Kane, Rider, and Helen were the others that Chase quickly got to know. Helen was the climber and the camera person. Rana had the guns. Kane was the scout and the decoy, and Rider was the control, pilot and computer person. The last piece of the puzzle was Chase, the thief. The one who actually stole the thing.

Chase was tasked with stealing the blueprints from the Vault, one of the most secure places in the world. It housed the blueprints to the most secure bank in the world so that Chase and the rest of the gang could steal it.

They practiced working together on fake banks and real ones.

Rana and Chase shot the dummies with their guns. They had been practicing for a week now, getting a feel for the gun. The bullets rammed into the dummy’s heart and head. They practiced on moving and stationary targets to get used to the guns they would be carrying for the heist. After two hours of work on the firing range they got ready to practice on a real bank. After taking out the guards and hacking bad feed into the cameras, they were easily able to unlock the locks and take the money. Hopefully their good luck would hold up against a thief’s nightmare: the Vault.

 As he worked more and more with the group, he found that they were becoming the family he had never really had. They became his closest friends, so when it came the time where they were going to steal the blueprints, he was ready.

Now:

Helen was being driven in the back of a military vehicle. The vehicle bumped and jostled around with Helen in a cage in the back. She was repeatedly thrown against the walls of the cage as she tried to keep track of where they had gone. After a while, she gave up trying to escape and tried to fall asleep, but Chase’s words continued to echo through her head denying her the opportunity.

Don’t let them break you.

* * *

Chase awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep in the helicopter and had been shocked awake by nightmares of what might have happened to Helen. She was probably enduring torture to keep the information of the rebels out of the Empire’s hands.

“We’re landing,” Rider informed them as the chopper touched down in the rebel’s base. The remaining members of the team got out of the helicopter and walked down the ramp, onto rebel soil.

“Where’s Helen,” Commander Sloane asked, his dark colored hair, and blue eyes piercing the area as he walked up to the heist crew.

“She didn’t make it out,” Rana replied grimly.

“She wasn’t killed though, only captured,” Kane said.

“We need to get her back. The Empire will torture her trying to find us,” Chase said.

“Chase, how would we find her?” Commander Sloane asked.

“We would search all the files to find the prison she is in. We have to,” Chase said desperately. 

“We all know you want Helen back, but it would be too risky,” Commander Sloane said. Chase threw his hands in the air and stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

“Uhgg!,” Chase said. Chase ran his hands through his hair angrily. He sulked on his bed frustrated with how the heist went. After an hour sulking in his room, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Chase said. It was the rest of the crew.

“Hey,” Rider said. “We all know you like Helen, so we’re going to help you break her out.” 

“I like her, but I don’t like her like her,” Chase said, his face turning pink.

“Whatever you say,” Kane said.

“Well, anyway,” Rana said, glaring at Rider and Kane, “We’re going to help you break her out.”

“Really?” Chase asked.

“Yes,” Rider said.

“Let’s do this,” Chase said. “Do you have the location of the prison Helen is being held at?” 

“No, but we do have the files that might get us the coordinates.”

* * *

Several hours, and a lot of research later, Rider had found some coordinates that might lead to the prison. On the maps, it didn’t show anything, more proof that the Empire was hiding a prison there. They planned to covertly steal a stealth chopper, then fly out to investigate. Commander Sloane, a fatherly figure to the heist crew would say it was impulsive. Probably because it was.

They snuck out at 10pm together, and loaded up the helicopter. They all got in and started the engines. The helicopter took off into the sky, with furious guards yelling threats from below.

While they were in the air, they realized that they had left the blueprints from the Vault in the helicopter. As Chase was sifting through them, he found a prison blueprint. It might not be the one we need, Chase thought, but at least it was a prison layout.

“You’ll want to get some shut eye,” Kane said. “It’s almost 1am.”

“I’d say the same to you, Kane,” Chase replied, slowly closing his eyes.

* * *

A long time had passed since Helen had seen the sky. After being taken out of the vehicle, she had been forced into a small prison cell. They had left her there with nothing for almost a day now. 

Helen screamed at the walls. She heard a noise coming from the door. She whipped around, the dark shadows under her eyes becoming apparent to her captors.

“Come here,” someone said outside the door. Helen immediately walked away from the door. 

“I said ‘come here’,” the person said, more forcefully this time. The shadow of a gun crossed the floor. Helen, raising her hands, walked to the door, fear, smothering her features. A bag went over her head as soon as she came in reach of the person outside the door. 

Helen was dragged out of the cell and ushered down the hall struggling with her captors. She was pushed into another room and she heard the sound of a lock being put into place. She was forced into a chair and felt her arms being bound around the back of the chair. The bag was lifted off her head and her eyes protested as the massive lights in the room blinded her. She could make out through her squinting eyes, a person standing in front of her. As her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she could also see a bucket of water, and a cloth.

Dammit, Helen thought. A torture chamber. 

The man in front of her said, “Are you a rebel? Answer correctly and we won’t torture you. Answer wrong, and we will.”

“No,” Helen replied, doing her best to sound convincing.

“Wrong answer,” the man said. The man standing in front of her dipped the cloth into the bucket of water and pressed it against her nose and mouth. Helen fought for oxygen trying to get the cloth off her face. 

She coughed, but the cloth trapped the cough in her lungs, preventing her. Her lungs, face, and body burned, and just as the world started to black out, the cloth tore away from her face.

Helen hacked and coughed, before breathing in air. Sweet, sweet, air.

“Answer wrong again, it’ll happen again,” the man threatened. “Where are the rebels hiding?”

“Somewhere near the coast of the north eastern part of the continent that was originally called Africa,” Helen lied. The man punched her in the jaw, sending pain shooting through her head. 

“Don’t lie to me. It will get worse every time.” The cloth went over her face again, and Helen fought again to breathe. Water entered her lungs and Helen struggled, the world turning dim. Helen gasped as the cloth came away from her face.

“She’s not talking,” the man said to someone that Helen couldn’t see. The man nodded before punching her in the face again. Blood streamed down Helen’s face as she fought through the extreme pain. 

“Where are the rebels hiding!” the man screamed at Helen.

“I said ‘Somewhere near the coast of the north eastern part of the continent that was originally called Africa’,” Helen said. The man looked ready to kill her, but stopped, before saying, “Okay. I’ll do just that.”

“I’ll let you go back to your room. Forever,” the man said menacingly. She was forced down the hall and shoved into her room. She heard the lock clicking, then silence.

* * *

The helicopter touched down silently on the grassy plain. Up ahead, a massive structure loomed in the night. Chase, Rana, and Kane slowly moved toward the prison. Rider stayed back at the helicopter, ready to fly at a moment’s notice. The crew made their way to the prison gate. Kane scaled the brick wall and barbed wire, before signaling the all clear sign. Rana and Chase scaled the wall, holding the barbed wire back for each other. With scraped pants, and determined minds, they made their way into the prison.

The hallways were lit with large lights. Kane shot out the cameras with his gun. With no Helen, they had to shoot out the cameras. Chase heard a noise.

Footsteps. Coming from down the hall. Chase motioned for Kane to hide as he and Rana readied their guns. Two guards rounded the corner. Three gunshots went off. One met its mark with Kane being hit in the knee. As he fell Rana shot a bullet at the ceiling light wire, sending it crashing onto the guards.

Sparks flew, with Chase being thrown back by an explosion. Glass littered the floor of the battle. The two guards were motionless, with glass shards sticking out of them everywhere. Rana knelt beside Kane, before picking him up.

“Go,” Chase said. “I’ll get Helen out of here. Kane needs medical attention. He’s losing blood. Fast.”

Rana nodded grimly, before taking Kane and running towards the exit. Chase walked down the hallway, looking at everything down the barrel of his gun. He passed cell after cell. Most of them empty. The ones that weren’t held bodies. He saw people with ragged limbs and hollow expressions. They glanced pleadingly at him. He wished he could help them, but he needed to find Helen. 

He ran past security cameras and alarms blared. He ran and ran looking and needing to find Helen. He heard it before he saw it. The screaming. Helen’s screaming. He went to the door the screaming was coming from. It didn’t have bars, just a steel plated door. He grabbed a lock pick and began working away at it. 

The lock held up, much to his dismay as he continued to work at it. He heard a click and the door swung open. Helen sat on the floor of a bare room. Metal plates covered the cell from head to toe. Chase rushed inside as Helen got up off the floor. She wasn’t screaming anymore. She hugged Chase, crying. 

“We have to go, Helen,” Chase said.

“Yes. Let’s go,” Helen said, regaining her composure. Chase and Helen ran back through the hallways. A patrol of four guards stopped them before they could make it to the exit. The lead guard raised his gun. Before the guard could shoot, Chase shot him, a bullet embedding in his chest. The other guards raised their weapons. Four bullets fired. A guard went down to Chase’s bullet. Chase went down to the three other bullets. 

Pain rocketed through his body as the bullets tore through him. Helen swept Chase up in her arms and ran for the exit, bullets whipping around her. 

She dashed to the helicopter and rolled into the helicopter as it rose into the night sky.

* * *

X looked through the window of the top floor of the building. X heard a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” X said through the face mask covering his face, a synthesizer masking the real sound of his voice. His lieutenant, Hunter, walked into the room, bowing as he entered.

“Sir, a heist crew raided the Vault,” Hunter said quietly.

“What!” X said, outraged. “I thought the place had the best security.”

“We found a culprit. His name is Dylan Hart. He fell asleep watching the security monitors.”

X’s features twisted in anger.

“Send for him now.” X said. “I will have a talk with him.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As Dylan walked into X’s office, he felt a sense of dread wash over him. He had fallen asleep on the job. He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” X’s synthetic voice said. Dylan entered the room.

“You did an amazing job,” X said.

“Really?” Dylan asked, relieved.

“Yes. I will up your pay by 20%.”

“Thank you so much,” Dylan said.

“You’re welcome,” X said, smiling grimly behind his mask.

After Dylan left, X sent for Hunter. Hunter entered. 

“Hunter,” X said, “Can you have the Phantom go after the heist crew?”

“I don’t mean to say that you are incorrect, but Phantom is incredibly expensive as assassins go.” 

“Send for him anyway.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Dylan Hart was smiling. He had not immediately died after the conversation with X so he counted that as a win. He was still smiling when he got gas for the tank. He was still smiling when he got off the freeway. He was still smiling when his car blew up, killing him instantly.  

The Hawk and the Clover

Milton was a hawk who lived in a nest with his family. He had three brothers, three sisters, and his mom and dad. He was different from the others because he had a white underbelly, and he loved humans. The nest where he lived was on the edge of a swamp. Not a lot of humans came to the swamp where he lived, so Milton had to go into the city to see them. In the city, he would go to the windows and spy on the humans. He wished he could talk to the humans.

Deep in the swamp, there was a human. The human had green skin and a wart on her long nose. Milton was flying home one day when he saw this witch. She had a bow and arrow and a dead hawk slung on her back. Milton was horrified and flew away. He didn’t want to get caught by this ugly human. 

One day, while Milton was flying to the city, he saw the witch picking mushrooms. He followed her. He wanted to know why she was still hunting for hawks. He was curious about her because she was not like the other humans. He was scared that the witch would notice him, since she kept turning back to make sure no one was following her. Whenever the witch looked back, Milton would tilt upward so that his white underbelly blended into the sky. 

Milton followed her deep into the swamp, all the way to her hut. She quickly passed through the door. Milton went to the window. He watched the witch put the mushrooms among a collection of items—human ears, frog legs, snake scales, lizard tongues, hawk toes and feathers. Milton thought some of them looked delicious, but others were plain disgusting. While Milton watched, the witch took some mushrooms, hawk toes and lizard tongues, and threw them into the cauldron bubbling in the fireplace. 

The witch looked toward the window and Milton ducked, falling to the ground. He started shivering in fear. He realized that he was in a garden with glowing worms. They looked so delicious. Milton loved shiny things and worms. He immediately got up and started eating every one of them. The worms were so delicious that Milton didn’t realize that he was making so much noise. The witch heard him eating and came out the door and screamed. 

“May the gods curse you for 100,000 years!” the witch cried, pointing at MIlton with an evil glare.

Scared, and not sure of what was happening, Milton tries to fly back home. But he forgot everything that he knew before he was cursed. So he doesn’t know where home is so he couldn’t fly home. All he knew is that he liked humans. He didn’t know what to do after being cursed. So he went back to the city to spy on humans like he always does.

While he is flying to the city he caught a glimpse of his nest near the edge of the swamp, but he doesn’t care about his family anymore. He hates them now. He wants to be near his friends, the humans. 

So he sat on a window sill. Inside there was a girl crying. “Are you okay? Milton asked her. 

The girl turns her head to the window. “Am I hallucinating?”

Milton was shocked as well. How did I do that, he thought.

“Why was today the worst birthday ever?” The girl asked herself. “Now I’m hallucinating. I have no luck at all. I need a four-leafed clover. That would change everything.”

Milton felt very sad for this girl. “Sorry you had the worst birthday ever.”

The girl’s jaw drops. “Are you real?” she asked.

Milton said, “Yes, I am real.”

“Who are you? Why are you here? Why are you a hawk? And why can you talk!?”

Milton replied, “I am a hawk named Milton. I don’t know why I can talk!”

The girl came to the window and reached toward him. Shocked, Milton fell off the window sill right toward the street. Milton had never fallen before. With 0.05 seconds before he hit the ground, he spread his wings and started to glide up. He flies back up to the window sill. He wanted to talk to the girl more. But the girl’s father was there. He suddenly tried to catch Milton. He threw a bean-bag pillow at Milton. 

This time Milton dropped purposely, to miss the bean bag. 

“Who are you?” Milton asked. 

“I’m a scientist. I want to trap you for a DNA test.”

“Sounds not fun.” Milton flew away.

After this encounter Milton realized the two curses. Unluckiness and talking. 

To solve the unluckiness he will need a four-leaf clover. He learned that from listening to the girl. Nothing could solve the talking problem. So he started to head in the direction of a field he knew from his childhood that was very lucky. He had always found shiny things and worms there. He started searching for the clover. 

He searched the whole field. He was unsuccessful. But he needed somewhere to sleep for the night. He searches everywhere and cannot find anywhere to sleep. Luckily he remembers the old swamp. He slept there for the night. He began the search the next day. Then he searched deeper into the swamp. Milton finally found the witch’s hut. The witch was outside her hut. And right on the witch’s doorstep was the clover. 

Milton realized that he would have to fight the witch to get the clover. He took his chances and few at the witch. The witch saw him. She took out her wand and started using it as a weapon, shooting blasts of magic. Milton dodged. 

When Milton was a baby, his mother would tell him stories about their great grandfather who saw a village crowding around a witch who was about to be burned at the stake. Milton knew he needed fire to defeat the witch. He flew away to get a match. 

He found the match in the city and flew back. 

The witch was back in her hut when he returned with the match. This was going better than Milton had planned. He flew up to the roof of the house and lit it on fire. Then he quickly grabbed the clover, lit the rest of the house on fire, and escaped. 

Milton then flew home to reunite with his family. The clover worked. 

When he arrived, he saw the hawks crowding around two graves. He soon realized who the graves were for. His parents had died, looking for him. They got killed by the witch. Milton lived in sadness for the rest of his life. 

The End.

Ant and Flower

Ant Timmy wants a beautiful pink flower that’s by his house on Nelson Road. He found it two hours ago when he was running. He thought it was perfect for his brother’s birthday. His brother likes pink. Timmy likes the flower, too. Timmy wants to take the flower to his brother’s house. 

He is trying to pull it but it’s too strong. Timmy was sad. He thinks about Greg, his friend, because Greg is strong. Greg is an army ant. Greg lives on Nelson Road, too. He is Timmy’s neighbor. Timmy met Greg when he was running a month ago. 

When he got to Greg’s house,Timmy asked Greg to pull the flower for him.

Greg said, “Sure.” 

Greg tried but he can’t pull it either. He tried again. But he still can’t.

Timmy and Greg both try, but it is too strong. Timmy said, “l have an idea!”

“What idea?” Greg asked. 

“Could you ask your army ant friends over?” 

“Sure!” 

“Okay,” Timmy said. 

Greg called his army ants. Five minutes later, they didn’t appear. Greg called them again, and 100 army ants appeared on Timmy’s lawn. They tried to pull the flower but they end up failing. They said, “Sorry, I can’t pull it.” Timmy was sad because in 10 minutes his brother’s birthday party starts, and he likes flowers.  

This is the final idea. He remembered he had a tack. He said, “I can cut it with a tack!” He pokes the flower in the middle of the stem, but he accidentally cuts it in a straight line and the petals get ripped. 

He got another flower from Greg’s house because he is tired. It’s nice and perfect, and Greg cut it just the way Timmy wanted, and he went to his brother’s house and gave the flower to his brother.

A Crack in the Walls

Chapter 1

You know the feeling that something bad is going to happen? Like you’re dreading every moment of the day, waiting for something to go terribly wrong? Well, that’s what happened to me on August 27.

I didn’t realize something was wrong between me and my friends. We had hung out all summer, having slumber parties and skyping off our computers. We even got matching phone cases. And on the first day, we did our annual 6:00 AM Facetime. That was the moment when they seemed uncomfortable. I was pulling my hair back in an alligator clip, and I saw that both Ella and Emily had hung up on me. I convinced myself that their parents forced them to get off screen, and kept getting ready. 

.         .         . 

“Morning! Are you excited for your first day of school?” my mom asked, balancing a big platter of waffles and a pitcher of orange juice in each hand.

“I guess.” The video call had really thrown me off, and I could tell that today was going to be a horrible day.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” asked my dad, striding into the room with three plates and cups. 

“Nothing, I’m just hungry,” I replied. There are some things I’m too proud to admit, like being a third wheel. 

“Then, let’s eat! Long day ahead,” Mom said. 

I poured syrup over the buttermilk waffles and took a bite. No surprise, they were delicious. Mom and dad made small talk the entire time, but I was zoning out, thinking about what went wrong with my friendship with Emily and Ella. We’ve been friends since preschool, when a kid thought we were triplets, since our names all started with the letter e. We cried for an hour, then hugged, and then said we were triplets. In elementary school, we gained the title “The Three E’s”. Emily, Ella, and Eva. 

And last year, in 6th grade, they came up to me and said, “Eva, we just came to tell you that we’ll always be friends. Some people want to act funny and ditch people, but we know that you’ll always be our person.” And then they gave me a giant hug.

So I didn’t get why they were being weird now. It would’ve been better for them to not show up on my porch with a sign last year. Then I could’ve accepted it. But I just reminded myself that they probably needed to take a device break, as their parents always say. 

I snapped back to reality as mom checked her phone and said, “Shoot. I have to be at work early today. Honey, put on your shoes, I’ll drop you off.”

I went to the front door and put on my shoes, then grabbed my backpack and ran out the door, chasing after mom.

Chapter 2

Mom unlocked the door of her silver minivan, and I plopped down onto the front seat. 

“Hold on young lady, who said you could sit here?” Mom asked, a stern look on her face.

I groaned. “Come on, mom! I’m twelve!”

“Correct. You can’t sit up front until you’re thirteen,” she replied smugly.

I climbed into the backseat and looked at my phone. As soon as I saw my notifications, I frowned. Emily just posted a screenshot of her and Ella on facetime. I sent her a quick text, asking why she hung up on me, and she didn’t respond. Usually, as soon as I sent her a text, she would send me three to reply. 

Mom tilted her mirror to face me, and seeing the look on my face, she said: “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“Yes mom,” I replied. She said this every day. 

“Then why do I feel like you’re keeping something from me?” She asked as she raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not, mom. It’s just– Oh look, we’re here!” 

Before she said anything, I dashed out of the car, only to bump into… Emily. 

“I’m really sorry!” I said.

“Why were you running out of the car like a baby?” she asked as she wrinkled her nose.

“Um, no reason,” I replied, looking at my feet. 

Emily squinted her eyes. “It looked like you were avoiding a conversation.”

“If you must know, I had to use the bathroom. I still do, so catch you later,” I mumbled quickly.  

Great. Now my best friend thinks I’m a chicken. I headed to my first class, where, unfortunately, my seat was next to Ella. She was acting the same way as Emily, very judgemental. I thought that was it, that they had just dumped me for good. But then, Ella passed me a note. It said:

Eva–

Meet at the gate at 11 AM if you value our friendship.

This was typical Ella fashion, except I noticed she’d called the gate simply a gate, instead of the ‘Narnia Portal.’ When we were in first grade, we’d found an overgrown brown gate at the back of the school, and because Narnia was our class reading book, we immediately thought that was the way to get there. Even though we knew better, the name stuck, and we vowed to call it that for the rest of our lives.  History class had flown by, and before I knew it, I was standing at the gate with my two best friends.

“So, what’s up?” I asked.

“Look, Eva. We feel like we don’t have much in common with you anymore,” Emily said

“What are you saying?” I asked. 

“If you’ll stop being dumb, we’re saying that we don’t feel close anymore,” Ella rephrased. 

“So…”

“So, our long-lived friendship is over.”

Chapter 3

  As soon as I heard those words, I turned my back on the two girls. I didn’t care what they said next. I didn’t look back at them. If they didn’t want me to be part of their life, so be it. I groaned as I remembered that I shared my second class with both of them. The last thing I wanted to do was be in a class with them, having to watch them take selfies and talk about the things we used to talk about, all three of us. So, I took the long way, going through the stairwells and hallways no seventh grader went to. When I was almost at class, I saw that Emily and Ella had cornered a girl in a wheelchair, and were teasing her.

“What’s wrong? Can’t run away?” Emily sneered, giggling.

“Em, don’t be mean!” Ella said. Hope swelled in my chest. Would she– “She obviously wants to be with us! Here, come on a walk!”

I took my phone out and began recording the whole thing. 

I watched as Ella and Emily wheeled the girl to the stairwell. Then I watched them place her at the edge of a flight of stairs. But when they were about to push her, I screamed.

“STOP! YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN DO THAT TO A PERSON? SHE COULD HAVE DIED!” My voice cracked. “YOU SHOULD BE SO THANKFUL YOU DON’T HAVE TO RELY ON SOMEONE TO PUSH YOU ON THE STREET! OR CARRY YOU DOWN THE STAIRS! YOU’RE LUCKY! BUT SHE CAN’T SAY THE SAME!” I pointed to the girl. She looked at me, her eyes shining.

Emily and Ella looked at me, then ran off in another direction. The girl, Lisa, looked up at me. 

“Why did you do that? I thought you hated me.” Lisa asked.

“I wouldn’t let you get hurt.” I said

And I pushed her right where she belonged.

August 27th.

The day where things went wrong.

See, school actually started on September 3rd. August 27th was the day when I got separated from my sister. Our parents had died when we were two, and we were both in the orphanage for 3 years. On August 27th, a man and woman came in, looking for someone ‘exceptional’. Then, their eyes fell on Lisa. She was in a wheelchair, but she easily moved around, climbed ladders, and slid down slides. I’ll never forget when they told her she was coming home with them. My own sister giggled. She smiled at them. She didn’t turn back. She didn’t wave goodbye. And that’s how I lost my sister.

I would never forget, but I could forgive. 

Fin. 

My Life With Tourette’s 

Hey, my name is Lester. One thing you should know about me is that I have Tourette’s Syndrome. If you are oblivious to the term then let me explain. Quite frequently I have the urge to move my elbows back. Not all people have that specific tic but mainly everyone’s Tourette’s are unique. I also have Heterochromia. It’s not exactly an obstacle but it teams up with my Tourette’s to make me miserable. If you don’t know, Heterochromia is the condition in which you have two different colored eyes. It may seem like a cool thing but when you have a little social anxiety, it’s a bit smothering with all the attention.

I’m moving to a new school on Wednesday and of course I’m going to be nervous. Who wouldn’t be? I’m afraid of what the new kids will think of me. My sisters say that middle school can be difficult if you have no friends. Well, nothing like a good old fashion entree of atrocious sleep with a side of nightmares. Do you want to know how the nightmare went? Well of course you do if you read this far.

I was running through the forest as a ninja (don’t judge, ninjas are cool and you can’t deny it), when we approached a large lake with a wicked looking axolotl/octopus in it. You know when people usually look at an axolotl they think: Awww, It’s so ugly it’s cute!

Except today it wasn’t cute. Just plain unbearable ugliness. No offense, of course. “It looks like my mom when I forget to clean my room,” joked my dream friend, who of course is also a ninja.

“Ha, good one,” I laughed. I wish I had friends like this in the real world. So you may be thinking: Wait, isn’t this story from your POV? Why did you say real world? Do you know this is a dream? Well, yes, yes, and yes. I know this is a dream. The reason I stay here is because, A. I like being a ninja, and B. I have friends here. I know it seems incredibly sad but, who cares. The other ninjas and I surrounded the creature and took turns throwing shurikens at it. After scratching and chipping away at the monster’s body and patience, it left.

We all sighed in relief, but our victory was cut short by a guttural shriek. I looked back at the lake to see a giant octopus with eyes the size of trampolines rise out of the water. Oh, dear, I thought. That’s not an octopus. That’s the head of a mythical beast! I think incredulously. Oh I know this thing! Oh what’s its name? Kachulu? No, that’s not it. Uthulu? No, it has the letter c in it. Cthulhu! Yes, that’s it! Darn, I’m probably reading too many fantasy stories.

Well, in the book Cthulhu is an immortal being that is a tribrid between an octopus, man, and a dragon. You know what, I’m going to bail before things get ugly. I pinch myself for eight seconds, and surprise, surprise, I woke up.

It was seven A.M. on Wednesday, The day of dread. Yay. Darn, I should’ve convinced mom to let me stay homeschooled this year, I thought. Well, there’s no award for the most regret in thirty seconds, so I should probably get dressed and eat breakfast. Luckily, my mother laid my outfit out last night for me to wear. I got on my clothes and headed downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, I saw no evidence that someone was here so I guessed I was the only person up. I knew my father would come down soon so I just started making a fried egg with toast. I got a pan and put it on the stove. I sprayed cooking oil on the pan, then proceeded to try to crack the egg. It was a bit difficult to crack the egg on the pan as I kept ticing and dropping the egg. Luckily after three eggs, I finally got it in the pan. I then grabbed a slice of toast and lodged it in the toaster oven. After five minutes of waiting for both to finish, I put my meal on a plate and headed to the table to eat. The meal was delicious but it was all the more better knowing that I made it.

As predicted, my father appeared through the doorway wearing a button-up shirt with a tie and some nice brown pants with a belt. He was also carrying a briefcase that he briefly set on the table to get breakfast. He was on a call so I knew not to bother him. I ate my breakfast in silence as he scoured the fridge, phone wedged between his head and his shoulder. He found some leftover pasta from last night’s meal and ran to the door. He opened the door and walked through but before he could close the door, he peeked his head through the doorway and said, “Good morning, Lester! I’ll see you after school!”

Just like that, my dad’s car whisked out of the driveway and headed towards the street. That’s going to be me soon, I think gloomily. As I finish up my breakfast, I take a glimpse of the clock. Half past seven, I thought. I should probably get packed and ready for school. I put my plate and utensils in the dishwasher and headed back upstairs to brush my teeth.

After a firm and steady two minutes of brushing, I washed my face and headed back downstairs to go to school. I packed my school bag with all the necessary supplies with my water bottle and lunch money. I grab a helmet and get my bike. My school was only a quarter of a mile away from my house, so it wasn’t a hassle getting there. As I rode my bike all the way to school, I saw a lot of people talking and socializing in the school courtyard. I saw a few students glance at me, then whisper to their friends. I could already tell what they were saying, Oh my gosh, look at that freak riding his bike!

I try to ignore the looks, yet a part of my brain is already contemplating how much I’m going to be laughed at. Well, no point in attempting to see the future if you live in the present. Fortunately there was a biking rack where I could simply set my bike down. Unfortunately my tourettes were making it extremely difficult to set it down because I would always move my elbows back and drop the bike. I could already imagine what I look like right now, flailing my elbows while others laughed and mocked me.

After an agonizing ten minutes of embarrassment, I finally got the bike locked in the rack. I made my way to the courtyard where all the other kids were. I had a few people walk up to me. “Woah dude, cool eyes,” they’d say. I’d mutter a “thanks,” and then walk away. I found a nice cozy corner where I could just mind my own business. Ring! Ring! Ring! The noise was a little obnoxious but at least it caught everyone’s attention. We all clustered together to get through the door. This is where my Tourette’s became an issue. Every two minutes I’d hear a “Hey, who elbowed me?” 

Oh shoot, that was me! I’d think. After squeezing through the doorway, (with little casualties) I got a first glimpse of the monotonous school. The principal’s office was just to the right, with pictures of every teacher. Everything here was out of a picture show, the walls were white and the floor was marble black. The only thing with color here was probably my beige school bag.

I saw all the students head towards a stairwell with, you would not believe your eyes,  navy blue stairs! As the other students and I headed up the stairs a girl with rich brown hair approached me. “Hey, I really like your eyes,” she said.

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’m Lester by the way,” I introduced myself. 

“I’m Stacy, pleasure to meet you,” she replied formally. We walked in awkward silence for a bit.

“You know,” Stacy started, “a lot of kids here would purposely make a big deal if they had Heterochromia. They’re all attention seeking brats. It’s a nice change of pace to see that you just keep quiet about your condition.”

I soaked her statement in while remaining silent. We were approaching our class now and Stacy and I would have to go our separate ways.

“Alright, well I’ll see you in writing,” I said. She simply waved her hand goodbye, and then went across the hall. Wow, that was the quickest friend I’ve ever made, I thought. For now I have math, and I’m pretty strong in this subject. This should be a breeze, I thought. Although I’m in honors math, and this should’ve been difficult, it was in fact a breeze. I flew through the lesson like a soaring falcon. The lesson mainly consisted of easy algebraic equations, in word problems. Although the other students in my class were having some trouble keeping up. Weird, I thought. Their minds are probably a little rusty from summer break.

After completing the lesson and being assigned homework, I headed onto my next class, writing. I was excited about this class mainly because I love writing, as it’s one of my biggest hobbies. The walk to writing class was a bit long, as it was all the way down the four hundred foot hallway, but at least it gave me enough time to catch up with Stacy.

 I started my walk down the hallway, frantically looking for Stacy. My search ended when I felt a tap on my shoulder. 

“Oh, there you are!” I exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to find you for like, eight minutes!”

“Oh please,” Stacy rolled her eyes. “You were only looking for two minutes.” 

We walked down the hallway discussing how our classes went. I told her about how literally nobody could keep up in math class, and she told me that no one had the slightest idea what they were doing in geography class. By now we were approaching the doorway to writing class so we stopped talking. When Stacy and I walked into the classroom there was a U formation of the desks. 

The seats had our name on it, and unfortunately, Stacy was across the classroom. We began our first unit, poetry. Now, I didn’t exactly hate the subject but I didn’t love it either. Judging by the looks of my fellow classmates, including Stacy, they didn’t like it either. The lesson consisted of writing any type of poem, and then submitting it to the teacher to get checked. Let me take this time to tell you that the teachers here were brutally honest. They didn’t hesitate to tell you that your work was trash.

This made me all the more determined to have a good poem. The poem I’ll be doing is a haiku. I wrote for around ten minutes just figuring out how my words would correlate with the  strict five syllables, seven syllables, five syllables. Here’s how it goes:

Summer Haiku

I jump in the pool

Summer vacation is great

I love the summer

I know, I know. A tad bit lazy but it’s still pretty good. At least I think so. Now time to face judgment. I walk up to where the teacher is sitting. When the teacher saw me she said, “Hello, what do you have for me?” Her tone was firm yet a hint of malevolence was there. I gave the poem to my passive aggressive teacher. Her eyes scanned over the paper most definitely looking for mistakes.

When she turned back to me she said, “Hmph, that’s the best one all day.” I had a feeling that she said that in a bad way. As if everyone else’s paper were so bad that when a half-decent poem is submitted, It was the best one yet. I ignored the feeling and sat down back at my desk. For the remainder of the class I just wrote a story. The story was about my dream and how I was a ninja.

When I looked up from my notebook I glanced at the clock to see that the class was over, and everyone was packing up. Our next subject was art. Our lesson was about painting modern art. I drew a picture of Cthulhu, the beast I saw in my dream. I painted the lake and the octopus head rising from the water.

When our teacher came over and examined all of our paintings, She gaped at mine. “Oh wow,” she praised. “That’s fantastic!”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

When I finished my painting, I thought that it looked pretty good. I captured the reflection of the stars on the water pretty well. I went out into the hall to put my painting on the drying rack. When I walked back into the classroom, I saw that everyone once again was packing up. I knew that our next period was lunch so I began making my way towards the cafeteria.

I had my lunch money in hand right now so I could get a salad, or something else nutritious. I saw Stacy waiting at a table. I walked over to my new friend and sat down.

“That line is crazy,” Stacy stated. “A bit obnoxious, don’t you think?”

“A little bit,” I agreed. “I’ll wait for the line to die down before I get lunch.”

Stacy and I waited while chatting about classes, strict teachers, and ridiculous classmates. When the line died down Stacy and I got up to go get lunch to be stopped by a tall kid. I swear to the grass below my feet, if this guy seriously asks to take my darn money I will-

“Give me your lunch money nerds,” he says in a cocky voice. Stacy looked him up and down before bursting out laughing.

“Lunch money! Oh my gosh James, do you not read any books?” She laughs. “Because that’s the most cliche line I’ve ever heard. You’re so yesterday, kid. Get a better line!”

I feel a bit uncomfortable as Stacy brushes past him gracefully, takes my arm, and yanks me over to the food area. Stacy was still hysterically laughing, so I took the chance to get a Caesar salad with croutons, carrot strips, and cucumbers with Italian dressing on top. Stacy got chicken tenders and fries.

We headed back to the table and enjoyed our lunch talking about weird dreams. I told her about my dream about Cthulhu, and she explained that once in her weird dream she was talking to salmon about sushi. 

We finished up our lunch just as the teachers told us to go back up to class. For the last period, I had science. We began talking about chemistry and chemical reactions. It was also cool because I got to use beakers and different elements! I mean, who knew that if you added potassium iodine, hydrogen peroxide, and dish soap you’ll get an awesome foamy reaction!

I kept adding elements until the stereotypical science explosion blew up in my face. Who knew that if you added potassium permanganate with alcohol you’ll get an explosion! It was a tad bit embarrassing but mainly everyone wanted to know what combination I used to get the explosion. I finished that class in a hurry with a lot of homework. I only then realized that the school day was complete. I stuffed all of my homework into my large bag. And when I put my bag on, It was the actual equivalent of fifty pounds! As I took out my bike from the rack, dropping it frequently because of my tourettes, I got on it and peddled home. As I approached my house I thought to myself,

Maybe this school won’t be so bad after all.

Jeremiah’s Musical

Jeremiah had decided to not audition.

“Oh, c’mon, Jerry. Why not? I bet that you would be great at that owl part. I would be so proud of you, and your girlfriend and your mom would be too,” Gully protested as they satin Jeremiah’s owl hole drinking tea.

“Owls in musicals are silly. There’s no time for me to be in one,” Jeremiah grumbled.

“Who told you that?” Gully demanded.

There was a pause.

“The co-director,” Jeremiah muttered in a tiny voice.

“What?” Gully squawked. 

Jeremiah averted his yellow eyes pointedly. Gully marched angrily out of the hole.

“Wait!!! Where are you going?” Jeremiah yelled after Gully.

“The co-director’s house.”

Jeremiah shook his head so hard his feathers flew around the owl hole. “W-wait, don’t you want to finish your tea?”

Gully had already gone in a flash of gray and white feathers.

Jeremiah flew after him frantically, knocking over both cups of tea. He caught a glimpse of his bird friend flying over to the co-director’s nest.

“Uh, hi, director. To what do I owe to the pleasure?” The co-director, a light brown sparrow, asked. His name was Sparsmethius.

“You are dismissed,” Gully said firmly.

“Wh-what? I do not understand.”

“You told Jeremiah that-mmfff!”

Jeremiah flapped his wings over Gully’s bill.

“Um–” The co-director looked at Jeremiah for an explanation.

“Uh, sorry,” Jeremiah said awkwardly. 

“Hey, Jerry, let go! I need to tell him that you are a great owl!”

“No! Come! You need to drink your tea!” Jeremiah wrapped his wings around Gully’s, which was hard because Gully was a large seagull.

Gully and Jeremiah landed back in Jeremiah’s hole. 

“You would be great at that owl part. Really. The co-director is wrong. I mean it. I am the director and I am telling you that you are talented,” Gully said seriously, plucking feathers from his bill.

“No.” Jeremiah shook his head stubbornly. “Sparsmethius had a good point. What type of a bird musical needs a clumsy owl in it?”

“This one, Jeremiah. You are talented.”

Jeremiah shook his head again and pressed a new teacup into Gully’s wing. His yellow eyes filled with tears. “You can go. Don’t worry about me. It’s not like I’m actually good at singing,” he said dejectedly.

“But Jerry . . . “

Jeremiah sat on the couch with a humph.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow at the set, right?”

No reply.

It was the next day. Sparsmethius had been dismissed. There would be no co-director, which made things extra hard for Gully.

“Hey – where’s Jeremiah?” A swan asked as she scanned the stage.

“The bathroom?” A parakeet suggested.

“No, don’t all birds just . . . go in the air?” A pigeon asked.

“Not in the set!” A hummingbird exclaimed. 

Within a second, Gully had flown away.

“Jerry?”

“Mmmm! I’m sleeping! Go away,” Jeremiah protested.

“You are not sleeping.”

“I am.”

“Then how come you’re talking?”

There was a pause.

“Hey, you’re supposed to knock before coming in.” Jeremiah reprimanded.

Gully ignored this. “You gotta come. You didn’t seriously believe Sparsemethius, did you?”

Cough-cough-cough.

“Huh? You okay?” Gully asked, concerned.

“Um. I think I’m sick,” Jeremiah mumbled.

“No. You’re not. You are totally not. Stop faking Jerry, we need you!” Gully said firmly.

“No, actually-sneeze!-I am!” Jeremiah cried.

Gully thrust the thermometer into Jeremiah’s beak. “Oh no – indeed, you are sick! No, no, no. You can’t be! Today’s rehearsal!” Gully yelled, pacing around the hole as if the faster he walked, the faster the fever would be reversed.

“Tell Sparsemethius that he can take the part,” Jeremiah sighed, even though he did not actually want the judgy sparrow to take the part.

“No,” Gully shook his head. “He already migrated to Zimbabwe. I wouldn’t even want him to take the part anyway.”

Gully pressed on the receiver that was lying on the tea-table. “Hello, this is Gully Sea, the director of High School Musical, Bird Edition. Our actor has a fever so… Wait, what? You can’t come? No, no… you are in Africa? What?… You have to!” Gully screamed into the receiver. 

There was a click on the other line.

“The understudy is also in Zimbabwe! He can’t come!” Gully shrieked. He was panicking. “Please, Jerry, please. Please! You have to come!” Gully pulled Jeremiah out of the bed of grass.

“Nooooo…  Jeremiah whined.

Somehow, Gully managed to deliver Jeremiah to the set. All the actors cheered when they saw the snowy owl, but only before they saw his unhappy face, with his wings hanging limply at his sides.

“Are you okay?” A pheasant felt Jeremiah’s forehead. It was hot.

“He has a fever, but he came anyway.” Gully puffed out his chest proudly, not adding in the detail that he had lugged the pessimistic owl to the set completely against Jeremiah’s will.

Another cheer went over the actors as they resumed rehearsal.

Jeremiah choked out the songs, coughs in every beat. Every time he sneezed, all of the singers glanced at him, so he just mouthed the words. Gully could not tell and clapped his wings.

“You are really improving, Jerry!” Gully exclaimed in happy shock.

Jerry did not tell his best friend that he was not actually singing. He did not want Gully to convince him into singing, messing up the whole play as result. He shaped his beak into the memorable songs, flapping his wings. Once in a while he would cough. Then there was a terrible thought. What would he do at his solo?

“Um, can I go to the bathroom?” Jeremiah asked, hoping that the rehearsal would skip over his solo. His plan backfired.

“Okay! We’ll pause for you,” Gully said, skimming through scripts. Jeremiah tried to think of another reason to skip his solo. When he got out of the bathroom, he pretended to faint. 

“Oh no!” Gully cried. “We will try to continue rehearsal tomorrow.”

Jeremiah stifled a groan.

The next day, Jeremiah’s fever was no better. He came to rehearsal anyway, though, and coughed through his solo.

“Oh dear, you were doing so good yesterday!” A red-winged blackbird cried.

“Again. Sing it again,” Gully commanded. A woodpecker slowly backed away, not wanting the sneeze to land on him. All of the other birds were too afraid to do this seemingly rude act, because Gully was in a particularly bad mood. 

“No. I can’t sing it again!” Jeremiah begged. 

Gully sighed and gave in, moving onto a bald eagle. 

“This whole thing is stupid.” Jeremiah exploded. “Birds don’t even go to high school! The human version looked much better.”

“Oh, Jerry. We are trying, and we really want you to get better.” Gully sighed.

Jeremiah launched himself out of his set, flew to his hole and curled there, on his bed, crying angrily. 

The next day there was no Gully to urge him out of bed, no encouragement or kind words. The owl overslept, grabbed a cup of weak tea, and looked out of his hole. For once he longed for his best friend to yank him out of the warm hole. 

Without thinking about the embarrassment and the “I told you so’s,” he snatched up the receiver. Again and again he dialed with no avail. Gully was angry at him, he must’ve been! Jeremiah burst out of his hole and careened to Gully’s nest, the one near the lake. There was a telescope and a fishing net, but no Gully on the balcony. Jeremiah waited with a cup of tea. No Gully.

How stupid I am, Jeremiah thought. Gully must be at the set, directing! 

Jeremiah took off and soared to the set. No Gully! Leaving the anxious bird actors, Jeremiah flew to his hole. Where was Gully! Had he migrated? Or was he wounded and at the hospital?

Oh. There was the seagull, holding a cup of tea.

“Where were you!?” The two birds squawked at the same time.

“You are going to the set.” Gully pulled at Jeremiah. For once he agreed.

“We are selling so many tickets!” A crow announced happily, throwing birdseed in the air. Birdseed was the bird currency.

Jeremiah shook his head. What if he was not recovered by the time of the performance?

“Your understudy has come back,” Gully reassured Jeremiah, “but I bet you’ll be well by then. The understudy will not have to move a feather.” Jeremiah felt like the last comment was a lie. He knew that Gully only wanted to make things better, but he was slightly annoyed that his friend had been faking.

And what about the audience of the musical? He would not get to perform in front of them. Jeremiah found undeserved hate for his understudy in himself. He felt as if he had lost a game of pool. The balls did not roll into the right place at the right time.

“Who is the understudy?” Jeremiah suddenly found suspicion. 

“A sparrow. He had migrated to Zimbabwe, but then came back,” Gully explained.

“Have you ever seen him?” Jeremiah pressed.

“No. I can ask him to come,” Gully said, suddenly feeling rather suspicious himself. Zimbabwe? Who else had been migrating to Zimbabwe?

“Sparsmethius!” Jeremiah yelled. 

“Oh no. No. It has to be a coincidence,” Gully muttered, pacing back and forth. Now that he thought of it, the voice on the other end of the receiver had been familiar! 

“No, I am sure. It’s Sparsmethius, getting revenge!” Jeremiah exclaimed, taking out his lunch box and swallowing a mouse. 

Gully shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he apply for understudy? That means he is helping you!”

Jeremiah nodded. “He wants to seem like that, so you can make him co-director again! Or he just wants to take my part. Oh, Gully, I know! He wants to pretend he is the understudy, but he will not actually go if I am still sick. He will let the play down!” Jeremiah yelled. All the pieces were fitting together. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Gully sighed, pulling out a file of scripts from under his director’s chair. “You just need to not be sick and do your part.”

Jeremiah felt angry. The insulting previous co-director was coming back! And Gully did not even care!

Gully was already too overwhelmed to care about a supervillain understudy. The costumes didn’t fit! The scripts didn’t match! He absentmindedly clapped the clapboard. He took a sip of coffee out of his thermos and ate a fish taco. The stage was a few inches too low, the curtain was a foot too high! A supervillain? Pooh. Who cares? 

So Jeremiah practiced his part and made it better, but his cough was still bad. 

“Hachoo! Hachoo!” Loud sneezes escaped Jeremiah’s beak. He was curled on his bed. Scripts were spewed on the floor. The thermometer had unusually high temperatures on the screen, tissues were balled up around the bed. Tea was over-brewing in the kettle, but Jeremiah was too frustrated and sick to go up and get it. He longed for someone to talk to and get his tea for him, so he called Gully. Gully came over and got his tea for him. 

“You’re running late for rehearsal. We need the owl. The talented owl. The owl who you play, Jeremiah,” Gully said solemnly.

“Golly, Gully. Maybe tomorrow,” Jeremiah whispered hoarsely. 

“Why not today?” Gully asked.

Jeremiah glanced over the wads of tissues on his bed. Gully swept them up into the wastebasket, sympathy for his friend.

“Thanks,” Jeremiah whispered. Gully handed him a cup of tea. Jeremiah took it and screwed his eyes shut. It was way over brewed and very bitter.

“Hey. I can bring the tea for you if you come,” Gully tried to help. He only succeeded in doing the opposite.

Jeremiah choked over the gross liquid. “No thanks,” He mumbled.

Gully put the thermometer on the tea-table next to the picture of Jeremiah’s elf owl girlfriend and piled up the scripts that had been under the teacup Jeremiah had thrown. Jeremiah nodded over the tea cup. “You can have the rest,” He coughed.

“It can’t be that bad.” Gully sipped the tea and promptly spit it across the room. Jeremiah pushed the mop towards Gully.

Gully looked out of the hole.

“Jerry! Look, snow! It never snowed in space!” Gully exclaimed.

“Hmm? What’s snow?” Jeremiah asked drowsily.

“Snow!” Gully squawked. “Jerry, you have to see this! I’ve only heard about it.”

Jeremiah glanced outside.

“Wow, Gulls. What is that?” Jeremiah asked.

“Snow!” Gully repeated.

Jeremiah’s energy was replenished with the pretty white powder.

“Could you please come to the set for this rehearsal? You are coughing much less.” Gully pleaded.

“Fine.” Jeremiah was secretly relieved as they flew over to the set.

The birds cheered and threw up their scripts. “Go Jeremiah! Yippee!” A group of cardinals and blue jays chirped.

“Thanks.” Jeremiah tipped the microphone towards him and went through his solo. He had indeed improved.

The bird clapped their wings, clearly impressed. Jeremiah smiled. Some other birds flocked onto the stage. 

“I think I will be better by the time of the musical!” Jeremiah told Gully.

“Uh, good.” Gully fiddled with his feathers. “Um, can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Jeremiah said.

“Uh, the musical, Jerry, it got… well, moved,” Gully whispered.

“To when?” Jeremiah was suddenly alarmed.

“Well, to… tomorrow.” Gully looked away.

“WHAT!?” Jeremiah screeched. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No,” Gully whispered. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah.”

“How? Why?” Jeremiah shook Gully’s wings, his yellow eyes widened.

“Th-the day we requested was reserved for the human high school musical,” Gully said, fidgeting with his feathers.

“Why? They think humans are more important than birds? Huh?” Jeremiah demanded. 

“They kind of are. Humans invented the lightbulb. That’s what the theater manager said. Besides, humans don’t like birdseed,” Gully told Jeremiah.

“That’s not true. Dicey Hopskins invented the lightbulb. Did the theater manager even go to college?” Jeremiah inquired angrily.

“Uh, you know birds don’t go to college, either,” Gully whispered.

Jeremiah shook his head, feathers flying on Gully. “You’re lying. You’re joking. No, that’s not possible. I-I’m not ready!” Jeremiah screamed. Many birds looked at him.

“We are ready,” Gully assured him. “The costumes aren’t.”

“Why don’t we just buy costumes?” An exhausted red-breasted robin with pins in her beak asked.

“That’s human stuff. Humans buy everything. Besides, we won’t be allowed in department stores.” Gully responded, shaking his head.

The robin groaned. Jeremiah understood how she felt.

Gully took out a smoked-salmon sandwich and handed Jeremiah a packet of dried mice. “A thank-you present, for doing the musical even though you are sick. Those sunflower seed snack packets here are too small for your huge talent.” 

Gully took a bite of smoked-salmon. Jeremiah wolfed down a mouse. He coughed up a pellet and tossed it into the wastebasket. A blue jay nibbling on sunflower seeds looked insulted.

“It will all be for nothing. What if I forget my lines? What will I do?” Jeremiah moaned in distress, stuffing mice in his mouth.

“You can do it, Jerry!” Gully cried.

“I… am speaking to the manager,” Jeremiah announced.

“Okay,” Gully said distractedly, helping sort the costumes.

Jeremiah thought that Gully should have begged him to not go, to stay and to face his fears. A little part of Jeremiah thought that Gully was not spending enough attention on him. But he left reluctantly to speak with the manager because he said he would. He was afraid, though.

“Hey mister!” Jeremiah called up to the manager.

“Well, hello. What do we have here?” The manager chuckled.

“I have come to ask: why did you switch the performing time?” Jeremiah demanded. He tried to sound intimidating, but that is hard for any bird, even snowy owls. “Besides, humans didn’t invent the lightbulb. A MOUCE did!” Jeremiah yelled.

“Uh, sorry Owl, sir. High school musical is paying more than you bird guys. Besides, many people, even one bird, like the human version better,” The manager told Jeremiah. 

The owl felt embarrassed and stepped out of the manager’s office. 

“Well?” Gully greeted Jeremiah.

Jeremiah did not reply and therefore was even more embarrassed. He decided to talk to the cast of Human High School Musical.

“Hey,” Zac Efron greeted Jeremiah.

“Hey,” Jeremiah greeted back.

“So, um… why are you here?” Zac asked gently.

“I want to ask: why did you take our time spot in the theater?”

“Uh, we needed more time.” Zac looked away and waved his arms, squiggled his fingers at the rest of the cast. Jeremiah was filled with envy. Why couldn’t his feathers do that? Then he glanced at the rest of the cast. They looked ten times readier than the bird cast!

“It’s not fair.” Jeremiah told Zac Efron calmly.

“I-I’m sorry? Why is it not fair?” The confused actor asked.

“Because we are not ready but we have to perform tomorrow!” Jeremiah screamed, annoyed. Zac looked taken aback and perhaps a bit amused.

“I’m sorry, but we, er, have lots of tickets. We have so much pressure,” Zac told Jeremiah.

“How much pressure do you have, huh? How many tickets?” Jeremiah demanded, determined to prove the human wrong.

“Uh, so, we have, like, two thousand tickets,” Another actress said.

“TWO THOUSAND?!” Jeremiah squawked.

Zac smiled awkwardly and ushered Jeremiah out of the set room.

“They have two thousand tickets,” Jeremiah coolly informed Gully.

“What? Who has two thousand tickets?” Gully looked up from his clipboard.

“Human High School Musical.” Jeremiah stayed calm. Gully jumped out of his feathers and looked as if his fish had come down wrong.

“Two thousand!” Gully confirmed with Jeremiah loudly. “Two thousand tickets!”

“Yes,” Jeremiah said. He knew he could never sell that many tickets.

Gully shook his head in amazement and took out some mahi-mahi jerky. Jeremiah smiled, triumphant that he managed to surprise his friend, but perhaps a bit sullen that Gully had paid more attention to some tickets than him. He chewed on a dried mouse. Then he watched a duet sung by a pelican and an ostrich. A Kakapo banged his wings on a piano. A raven slammed her talons on a drum set. 

“The costumes are finished!” The red-breasted robin and a mourning dove cried happily. Many birds whooped as they changed into their costumes. Fluffy, red, off-the-wing gowns, baggy talon jeans, rhinestone belts, winglets and talon sneakers. Jeremiah looked around in a miniature baseball cap. 

Then they did the rehearsal and Jeremiah flew home, grabbing some mice on the way and brewing more tea. He was still coughing, but less. Slowly, he was recovering!

Jeremiah took a fly around the forest for exercise. He did this because he always felt refreshed when he got back; the cool, dewy leaves were calming. He spotted Sparsmethius, playing poker and drinking beer with his friends. Jeremiah peeked over with hate. He knew, he just knew, that Sparsmethius was the understudy! Jeremiah suddenly had the urge to go to the bathroom. But he wanted to continue to spy! So he decided to poop on Sparsemethius for revenge. Unfortunately, Sparsmaethius saw him. Jeremiah flew back to his hole. In the middle of the night, he snuck back to Sparsmethius’s nest. There was a deck of cards, a stove, some crumpled paper, and a long piece of paper. Jeremiah picked it up. It read:

Operation get rid of Jeremiah 

Turn the forest against him. Get the birds to hate him. Get the set to hate him. Get Gully to hate him.

Convince the manager to let the Human High School Musical take the spot the set wants. It worked!

Be Jeremiah’s understudy.

‘Besides, people, even one bird, like the human version more.’  

Jeremiah thought of what the manager said. Then he felt tired and flew back. He passed Gully’s house. There was a letter at the door. Jeremiah started to read it.

Dear Mr. Gully Sea,

I do not mean to concern you, but I have heard rumors of your friend Jeremiah wanting to sabotage the set. I understand that you have complete faith in your friend, but we all know how destructive snowy owls could be.

Sincerely, a friend. Leave a response by the hollowed tree trunk next to the lake.

Jeremiah glanced in the house. Gully was sleeping. Jeremiah ripped the letter in half and tossed the two pieces in the lake. He knew that Spersemethius had written it, because of the handwriting.

Dear A Friend,

I have complete trust in Jeremiah. Thank you for your concern.

Sincerely, Gully

Jeremiah left the note by the hollowed tree. He had a fleet of thoughts about what Gully would think, however Jeremiah felt it was correct.

There was another note in the tree, an hour later.

Dear Gully,

I am amazed and touched by your loyalty to Jeremiah. Could you please think it over, though? I think that the set is really important.

Sincerely, A Friend.

Dear A Friend, I am very happy that you care so much about the play. But Jeremiah is a truly special owl and this concern is not very realistic. I hope you renew your trust for him.

-Gully Sea

After he wrote the note, Jeremiah set down the letter by the hollowed tree. It let off a perplexing bad smell. The owl flew back to his hole.

The receiver rang.

“Jeremiah. Come to my house. Now.” It was Gully. His voice sounded tense with anger.

Jeremiah flew over, afraid of what might happen.

“What is this, Jeremiah!?” Gully roared, holding up the letters.

Jeremiah gulped. “Uh, I can explain . . .” he started.

“No! No, who is A Friend? Are you really going to destroy the set? What?” Gully yelped angrily.

“It’s Sparsmethius.” Jeremiah told his friend solemnly.

“That doesn’t matter. Why did you respond for me?” Gully yelled.

“I was trying to protect myself!” Now Jeremiah was also yelling.

“Why couldn’t you trust me to say that I trusted you?!” Gully demanded. “I was just trying to get my fermented fish that I keep in the hollowed tree trunk and I see… this!” 

“I-I was afraid.” Jeremiah whispered.

“Okay. Well, the performance is tomorrow. You better catch some more sleep,” Gully said. He still looked angry but he wanted to be more responsible as a director. Jeremiah opened his mouth to argue but a yawn came out instead. He sighed and flew back to his hole.

The next day, the set was a flurry of feathers and noise. The robin and penguin buttoned and hooked as all the other birds wriggled into their costumes. 

“Presenting High School Musical, Bird Edition!” Gully cried. The curtain went up and a few pigeons started belting out lyrics. The Kakapo joined in. An hour of singing and high school, and it was time for Jeremiah’s solo.

He looked at the audience but none of his voice came out. He had forgotten his lines in the stress. He was supposed to sing about how owls were good at singing, but he felt the opposite.

‘Owls are great at articulation and stuff like that,’ The penguin mouthed.

“Uh, towels have crates of pickled relations with tufts of rat,” Jeremiah sang meekly. A laugh came up from the hundreds of beaks in the audience. Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably. The penguin mouthed more lines, glancing at Jeremiah’s script.

‘The lyrics just go with their beaks,’ The penguin mouthed.

“The licks just know the beats.” Jeremiah choked out. More laughter.

“Adhesive world we know and eat, but I can tote bag the hue cycle. When my ear the rustic, I fold to trance. Towels we far, and towels we ring, Towels are the tars of the hue cycle! I chart the heat in the grill, I give a like phone, I ring, ring, ring! Towels in my gold just dove drew ring!” Jeremiah whispered, glancing at the penguin for lines. Tears filled his eyes. Gully glared at Jeremiah. The audience roared… with laughter.

Then the play ended. Many people wanted Jeremiah’s autograph, including a famous TikDucker. But Gully pulled him away.

“How could you mess up my play?” Gully asked.

“It isn’t just your play. It’s my play, too,” Jeremiah said, almost tearfully.

“No! How could you ruin your lines? It’s like you did it on purpose! That’s what your ‘paparazzi’ thought,” Gully poured out. He put bitter emphasis on the word paparazzi, almost as if he was jealous.

“It’s not my fault! If you are really my friend, you would forgive me,” Jeremiah defended himself.

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have disgraced me!” Gully cried.

“You’re disgracing yourself right here,” Jeremiah pointed out rudely.

“I get most of the pressure because I’m the director! The paparazzi will come at you.The bad reviews will come at me!” Gully explained impatiently. Soon the birds were arguing.

“Gully, my paparazzi – and everybody else – liked my accidental twist!” Jeremiah was getting very angry. So was Gully.

“Not everybody!” Gully told Jeremiah.

“Well, most people. Because they thought I did it on purpose.”

“You sounded pretty bad,” Gully told Jeremiah angrily.

“Very touching comment from a friend. Or are you still?” Jeremiah asked.

Gully stormed away. Well, that sure answered the question.

Suddenly all Jeremiah wanted to do was curl in his hole, sipping tea and listening to classical music on the radio. Gully was putting away the microphones and costumes. Jeremiah signed the last autograph and flew home.

He brewed tea and cried. Then he flew in the forest and sang out the correct lines. He had known them all along, but had felt stage fright. He sobbed. 

Gully heard him and felt bad. Jeremiah fell asleep in his bed. 

The next day he went in front of Gully’s house, thrust open the door, and sang his solo. Gully grabbed his wing and whispered an apology. Jeremiah looked into the seagull’s earnest brown eyes and fled. An apology! Gully said sorry!

Jeremiah flapped his wings and soared around. Sparsmethius stopped him. Jeremiah expected him to say something bad, but instead he simply said: “You did a good job.”

Jeremiah was shocked.

The sparrow solemnly searched in Jeremiah’s face. Then he flew away.

Jeremiah sipped tea. Then he hunted a bit and practiced his solo for no reason. He felt… good. He thought about everyone. Sparsmethius, Gully, the cast, his mom, his girlfriend. He was proud of himself. He had visited his mom who was at the play and loved it. He had called Juniper, his girlfriend, and she laughed so hard about the messed-up lines that Jeremiah could hear her feathers flying across the room.

I am Jeremiah. An owl. And I am talented, Jeremiah reminded himself, and launched himself into the sky.

The end.

Epilogue

“Three cheers for Jeremiah! Woohoo!” The birds chorused. Penelope the penguin winked at him. Gully smiled.

They were at the cast party.

“Hey Jeremiah. I really liked the play after all. I think you made it better,” A few birds congratulated Jeremiah as he ate fish in a blanket. 

“Wow. Did you know the fourth most viewed and liked TikDucker has your autograph, Jeremiah?” A swan asked. Jeremiah grinned.

“Let’s have a toast to Jeremiah!” Gully exclaimed. Various birds raised their glasses of berry and nut smoothies.

Jeremiah thought back to the play. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. He wished he could do it all over again. 

Perhaps he would get his wish.

Family, Books, Life

There’s only 3 things in life that actually matter: family, books, and life. In short, I have just managed to keep all of them. Oh. You don’t know. Okay, let’s start from the beginning.

It had been a long day. I, Luna, had gone to school, gotten made fun of with my best friend, Maya, had a swim meet, and belly flopped off the diving board. So naturally, I went home, took a looooong hot shower, read some books (I love reading), and drank some hot cocoa. As I snuggled up tightly in my pajamas, I saw something racing past outside the window. I figured it was probably nothing. I had no idea how wrong I was. That night, I had a really weird dream. Someone was mumbling-no, saying-something. 

I think they were saying, “Go to the pond of scum. Go to the pond of scum. Go to the pond of scum. Go to the pond of scum. Go to the pond of scum.” By that time, I was already awake. My body was aching for some reason, and even though I slept a long time, I was impossibly tired. Even though I was awake, I could still hear the repeating voice in my head. After school, I went to Maya and told her about the dream. With a hint of laughter, she said,

  “Maybe, they are referring to an actual pond? Or a lake!” With a jolt, I realized that the “pond of scum” is the Pond Scum Lake nearby! I quickly texted my mom and dad, then jumped on my bike and rode toward the lake, wondering what awaited me at the “pond of scum.” I should’ve known it was not good. When I got there, I immediately looked around, trying to find someone to tell me what to do. 

I suddenly heard, “she’s here,” in a raspy voice. I did not manage to find the attacker but then, I got kidnapped. When I woke up, I found myself in front of a large red throne with a masked, hooded figure. 

“Ah, good. You’re awake. I want to talk to you at dinner. 9:00 tonight,” they said, laughing, in the same raspy voice I heard at the lake. 

Before I could interrupt, they called, “Soldiers,” suddenly serious. Some guards appeared and took me by the arms. Soon, I found myself in a cell. It was completely closed off except for a food slot. I sat on the bed, quietly wondering what he wanted to talk to me about. 

At exactly 8:47 (I have a clock in my cell), the guards slowly opened the door just a crack, and said, “Dinner time!”

They then put a sack on my head, and dragged me out. When they finally stopped, I tried to take the sack off my head. Didn’t work. They plopped me on the gold seat, and took the sack off my head. I was amazed at the beautiful, lavish spread of food that I saw. As I looked around me, I saw a beautiful gold table with the man from before. This time, they were wearing a red cloak, a red and green mask, and pitch black shoes. I considered escaping, but there were guards on either side of me. I smelled food. I was starving! 

While I was shoveling food down my mouth, they said, “I need your help. The people are in danger!” They slowly took off his red and green mask. 

“Maya,” I exclaimed, with my mouth full, scared. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Kitty’s Big Adventure

Kitty was a happy cat that lived in her royal palace called the kitty palace. The night was coming soon and Kitty wanted to get in bed. She turned off the light and settled cozily in her bed. She heard wild winds outside of her window. Then she heard thunder and balled up under her blanket. 

Kitty was young and was afraid of thunder, so she yelled, “Mom, Dad can you come in here?!” Kitty’s parents came in and they sat in Kitty’s bed until she fell asleep. When Kitty woke up, she was no longer in the palace. She was in a jungle! There were lush green plants and the air was very humid.  “This is very different from the palace!” said Kitty. She saw her cousin, a leopard named Swiper. He got his name because he took a lot of the animal’s belongings. His best friend is a parrot named Feathers. Feathers has magic powers because he was born from a magic waterfall. 

Swiper said, “The palace was moved last night by all of the harsh winds and the thunder. The palace can now be found in the peaceful meadow which is across the river.” 

Kitty said, “Swiper, you should come because you know the way!” Swiper was happy to help out his cousin, so they started towards the peaceful meadow. 

Swiper led the way out of the jungle and the peaceful meadow was in sight! However, there were many miles to cover before they reached the kitty palace. Kitty thought that it would be an easy adventure, but she soon realized that she was wrong. They reached the desert that they would have to cross to get to the kitty palace. Kitty knew that if she wanted to cross the desert, it would take up to five days at least! 

They started the journey. Kitty and Swiper thought that it was getting dark after a little while, so they decided to camp in a clump of sand. When they woke up, they continued on their journey to cross the desert. After four days, they could see the canyon! They kept going and finally, they were out of the desert! Kitty and Swiper were hot and tired, so they took a little nap. When they woke up, they started to go through the canyon.   

“There are a lot of rock avalanches in the canyon, so we have to be very quiet,” said Swiper. Kitty wanted to see if the canyon had an echo, so she quietly said, “Hello!” 

Swiper told her, “Kitty, please be more quiet.” However, Kitty needed to sneeze. She tried to hold it in but she couldn’t! The canyon trembled. Swiper and Kitty started to realize that they were about to experience a rock avalanche! 

“Get on my back!” shouted Swiper. “The end of the canyon isn’t far, so I think that maybe I’ll be able to get through before the avalanche does.”

Kitty hopped on Swiper’s back and they charged through the canyon. They beat the avalanche by a fraction of a second and were both breathing hard. Kitty and Swiper now needed to cross the mountain. They had two options for crossing it: they could go through it in the cave that they could easily get lost in, or they could climb the mountain that they could easily fall off of. Kitty finally said, “We’re going to climb the mountain.” They walked up the icy path for many days. Now Kitty and Swiper were very high up on the mountain. On an icy ledge, Kitty slipped! However, Swiper caught her just in time and put her back on the mountain. One day later, they were off the mountain!  

Swiper said, “We are now crossing into the cave. There are many critters in the cave, but the journey is only about five hours.”  

Kitty and Swiper were hoping to be in and out. There was a map on the wall that listed all the creatures. The list said:  “Here are the creatures that you might encounter: bats, cave crickets, cave newts and spiders. Be safe crossing through these parts” 

“We should go in,” said Kitty. So, they entered the cave. “It is very dark in here,” said Kitty. Fortunately, they didn’t encounter any cave creatures, and they made it out alright. 

“Okay there’s only one thing left to do,” said Swiper. 

“What’s that?”asked Kitty. 

“Cross the rope bridge,” replied Swiper. Kitty was very nervous for this event, because the rope bridge was over water and if there’s one thing cats hate, it’s water. They arrived at the rope bridge and it looked very unstable. 

“Get on my back,” said Swiper. “I can carry you across the bridge!” Kitty got on and Swiper slowly put a paw on the bridge. The wooden board gave way and snapped off the bridge, falling hard into the rushing water. “I know you are afraid of water, but you are the only one who can cross that bridge!,” Swiper shouted over the loud noise of the water. 

“What will happen to you?” asked Kitty. 

“You can come back later and get me, then we can fix the bridge and make it stable. You can do it, Kitty, just don’t look down!” shouted Swiper. 

Kitty slowly started to walk onto the first board. She started walking board after board.  Kitty’s heart started thumping, her body started trembling. Soon, she was at the halfway point! 

“You’re doing great, just keep going and don’t look down,” said Swiper. But Kitty made a big mistake and looked down! She saw the water, the rocks and the waterfall at the end of the river. Kitty collapsed onto the board. “No! Kitty the board will snap! Get back up!!” Swiper yelled. But, Kitty was too late. The board snapped, leaving Kitty hanging by one paw on the rope of the bridge. “Kitty!” Swiper yelled nervously. Swiper called for his jungle friend, Feathers, to teleport over and save Kitty. Feathers had super strength and teleporting powers. Feathers grabbed Kitty just before the board snapped and put her on the side of the bridge leading to the peaceful meadow. Kitty ran to the kitty palace and hugged her parents. She felt so happy that she finally got to the kitty palace. 

“Mom, Dad, I have some things to do before we have dinner,” said Kitty. She grabbed materials and ran to the bridge. She spent many hours there and finally, the bridge was made. It was a beautiful red bridge that had golden railings on the side. There was a sign at the end of the bridge saying: “Welcome to the peaceful meadow! Home of the kitty palace.” Swiper and Feathers were finally allowed across and they decided to stay there for a few days. Kitty’s parents invited Swiper and Feathers over for dinner as a thank you gift. They ate salmon for dinner, and for dessert they had Kitty and Swiper’s personal favorite: chocolate cats! Swiper was about to leave the next day. 

“Come back soon! You know where we are,” said Kitty. 

“I will. There is a train station not far from my place that takes me right to the bridge, but you can come over to my house too,” said Swiper. 

“Okay,” said Kitty. “The only problem is that it’s such a long walk to the jungle.” 

“You can just call Feathers,” said Swiper. “He lives close by.” 

“Okay, I promise that I’ll visit sometime soon,” said Kitty. 

“Here is the code to my house if I ever don’t answer the door or I’m not there,” said Swiper. “It’s 7199.” 

“My code is 3097,” said Kitty. “I’ll see you in a few weeks!” 

“Your birthday is in a few days. I’ll visit then,” said Swiper. 

Feathers went back to his home and so did Kitty and Swiper. A few days later, Swiper and Feathers came over for Kitty’s birthday celebration. They had lots of fun and they played lots of games. Swiper and Feathers left the next day. 

“Bye!” said Kitty. Then, it was back to the palace for Kitty.

THE END!

A New Generation Of Skulls

Jack Birkenhead Jr. was on his dad’s pirate ship. He heard drunken yelling blasted into his ears. His dad came and shut them all up. His dad went down to him. 

“Are you okay?” Captain Jack Birkenhead asked.

“I don’t know if I can be a captain like you. I don’t know if I can command people like you can. I don’t know what I can do,” he said.

“You know that I will stop being their captain in a few days, son.”

“I know… I just don’t know what will happen. Maybe they will hate me.”

“Are you scared?”

“No, I’m not scared, just—” As he was talking, an enemy ship came up to them.

“Fire the cannons!” the captain said.

“Yes sir!” they replied.

Jack stood there, mesmerized at how his dad commanded respect.

“C’mon,” said a fellow pirate.

Jack ran up to the firing area. He grabbed a cannonball and slowly walked over to the cannons. The cannonball was so heavy he didn’t know if he could hold it. He felt it slowly loosening from his grip. He put the cannonball in the cannon and it blasted him back. He felt like every step was him being tied down on an anchor. He had a headache and stumbled back. He felt like thousands of thoughts were racing through his head all asking him for attention. He felt like his throat was closing up. He barely stumbled back to the safe area. 

“Where is my son?” the captain announced. 

“Back at the rooms below deck!” the pirates replied. Jack thought that if he was a captain, he could never have this power.

“NO!” he heard the pirates screaming. He ran above deck (he wanted to think it was dramatic running, but it was really just a slow limp). When he finally got above deck, he saw his dad, the thing he loved most in the world, captured by the enemies.

“Give us the ship and destroy it or we will keep your captain hostage.”

“No, don’t do it-” yelled the captain, but he was cut off when they knocked him unconscious.

“If he dies at their hands then we will fulfill his last wish. Never surrender!” the pirates screamed. The enemy ship sailed away. 

“You are the captain now,” the pirates said to Jack. “I will get him back no matter what.” Jack said. “Let’s do this!”

Jack felt guilty his dad was captured because of him and he was going to get revenge.

“Can we track my dad?” Jack asked his fellow pirates in their meeting room. 

“Yes and no,” answered their chief tracker. “We can track the ship but we can’t track your dad. We just have to hope that they keep him on the ship.”

“Where are they?” Jack asked.

“They are probably in the crystal cavern.”

“Where is that?”

“That’s where they sacrifice.”

“Bring us there NOW!”
They journeyed to the crystal cavern, but while they were adventuring they encountered the pirates again.

“Blood!” the enemy pirates screamed.

“Give me a sword,” Jack said to his fellow pirates. One of them handed him a sword. (Jack was excellent in the art of sword fighting.) Jack then jumped onto the ship.

“Where is my father?” Jack asked the pirates.

“Why would we tell you? You only have a sword. We have 24 people and we can just capture you?” the pirates responded.

“You have left me no choice,” Jack said. He jumped forward and started to attack the pirates one by one. Jack sliced and diced. He didn’t kill anyone, he just cut their weapons in half and knocked them unconscious. When he had defeated everyone except for the captain of this ship, he put his sword blade to the enemy captain’s throat and asked, “Where is my father?” 

“Below dec—” The pirate was cut off when he saw Jack’s pirates on deck.

“WHERE?” Jack yelled.

“Below deck.”

“Thank you,” Jack said as he threw him off board. Jack and his crew went below deck to find one room locked. He sliced the door in half with his sword. He smelled the fragrance of lavender showing that the most important people on the ship lived in this cabin. He saw a painting of a man and a woman together. On the side of the room, he saw two well made beds and two pillows with a lace trim on the side. The roof of the room was a brownish-green and some parts of the roof were broken. The floor was a sage color. At the front of the room was a mantle piece flooded with different trophies and spoils of war. At the very top of the mantle, he found a golden crown which had a different gem on each spike. 

Jack snapped back into reality. He looked in front of him and saw his dad tied up and heavily gagged. Two men with shotguns were standing near him. Jack instinctively threw his sword at the first man. The man reacted, but not fast enough. The sword pierced him and he fell to the ground. The second man, in an instant, aimed his gun at Jack. Jack started to run but before he could do anything, he got shot and fell to the ground. The second man tried to reload, but Jack’s crew brought him away and back to their ship.

Jack’s eyes fluttered open and saw that he was back in his bed in his room on the ship. He couldn’t believe that he was a captain now. 

“Tsk, tsk,” said the doctor. Jack looked up to see their doctor cutting open his leg. He tried to stay calm.

What would my dad do? Jack thought. He would keep calm because he was a captain and ask what was happening.

“What is going on here?” Jack asked.

“Do you not remember? You went on their ship and defeated all their pirates, but when you went to the room, your dad was in it and you froze and got shot.” 

“We need to go back and save him!” Jack screamed. “Because it is my fault that he got captured,” he said quietly.

“You cannot do anything now,” the doctor said. 

“I need to do something—”

“YOU GOT SHOT! You cannot do anything now unless you want to get killed. You need to heal,” the doctor commanded.

Jack waited there and fell asleep. He slept for 16 hours. When he woke up he still had a wound, but they had finished the surgery and he could move. Jack left the operating table and went to the battle meeting room. 

“Where are they now?” Jack asked as he limped into the room. 

“They are in the delta stream and moving to the cavern,” Brokeon, their tracker, said before he saw Jack coming into the room. “You can’t fight them,” Brokeon said to Jack. “You will just get killed. We have lost one captain today and we won’t lose another.”

“How are they already at the delta stream?” Jack asked.

“You have been out for 16 hours,” Brokeon replied.

I can’t be the captain, but I will have to keep this crew alive until I can get the real captain back. I am a temporary replacement for the real thing. I cannot lead them, Jack thought.

“We need to go to the cavern. Take the beta stream, then switch to the Iota, and after 31 km go to the alpha stream.”

“It seems we have a captain after all,” Brokeon said.

After 8 hours, both of the ships were at the mouth of the cave. They started to fire at each other. Jack and Brokeon jumped off and landed into a pool of water. They quickly ran from the water to the entrance of the cavern. Jack looked into the cavern to see his dad tied up at the back of it. He ran forward even though his leg was injured. The cavern looked unreal. On the floor there were brilliant shining blue crystals. There were potholes and in the middle there was a stream with steaming blue water.

“Leave him alone!” Jack screamed at the top of his lungs. Brokeon tried to calm him down, but he couldn’t do anything. He was carrying a long and bent wooden pole from the ship.

“Use it to hop over the boiling water with it and free your dad!” Brokeon said while giving Jack a sword. Jack used it and jumped over. As he flung himself over he heard a crack and snap. Brokeon then used it. 

“So they can’t get back,” he said. Brokeon knew it would crack. He started to jump over, but he thought he would jump over and be safe. As he was jumping over, it snapped. As he was falling instead of saving himself he took out the last piece of it and handed it to Jack. Brokeon fell into the steaming water. Jack fell to his knees, screaming. He then started to run over to the two men and his dad. To any normal person with an injured leg, after being splashed by boiling water and running on crystal they would fall over and die, but not Jack. Jack was fueled by anger and sadness. He was faster than he had ever been, even with a shot leg, and he crossed the 100 meter gap in a matter of a few seconds. Jack was only armed with a sword and piece of wood, but he was going to save his father. The two men next to his father were the same two men that had shotguns before. Behind the two men was a massive chasm and a drop so deep that no one could see the bottom.

“I see you are the person that stabbed me with a sword,” the first man said to Jack. He had a massive patch on his chest that was bandaged up and blood was seeping through. Both of the men were in fancy clothes. 

“I see you are the person who shot me,” Jack said to the second man. As the man was looking at Jack’s leg, Jack swung the piece of wood and got the gun stuck in it. Jack immediately pulled it back and grabbed the gun. He then smacked the first man in the wound with the piece of wood and backed away. The first man fell into the chasm and now Jack had a shotgun and sword. 

“Your shotgun isn’t even loaded,” the second man cackled. “I knew he was going to die.”

Jack looked at the gun and realized it wasn’t just a shotgun, it was a bayonet. With the bayonet, he cut his dad free while keeping his sword pointed at the second man.

“Why haven’t you just shot me?” Jack asked the second man. 

“Because you remind me of my son.” The second man snapped back into reality and aimed his gun at Jack. By this time the captain was free and had the bayonet in his hand. Jack lunged at the man and pushed his gun downwards with Jack’s sword. The captain stabbed the man’s arm with his bayonet. The man screamed and shot the captain, who fell to the ground. Jack rushed to his side. Jack felt that his dad was alive and before he could get up he felt a cold metal circle placed on the side of his head. The gun.

“It’s over, little boy,” the man said. He was about to shoot when Jack stabbed him in the chest. The man fell backwards but he was still alive. Now, Jack had lost his immediate adrenaline and his leg wound was starting to hurt again. With every step forward, he felt a jolting pain in his leg that stretched up to his chest. The man was also in pain, but was able to shoot Jack’s hand. Jack dropped the sword in the chasm and fell down to his dad.

“Now it’s over,” the man said. Before he could shoot Jack, Jack took the bayonet from his dad and stabbed the man who fell into the chasm. Jack carried his dad and they limped back to the river. Jack saw a bridge made by his fellow pirates over the boiling river. All of them were singing in celebration that their captain was saved and mourning that Brokeon had died.They walked across the bridge and the captain muttered something. Both of them dropped a gold coin in the water to commemorate Brokeon, and got back on the boat. As they were on the bow of the ship the captain said, “Remember you were going to take my place? Well now you did, captain.” Jack Senior and his son, the new captain, both smiled.

From Earth to Mars

On the planet Arth everyone speaks Onglish. This story has been translated to English from Onglish…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA,” screamed Ethan. It was another one of those coffee floods that happened about once in about six months. I had only lived for six months, but I was getting tired of it. I asked a coffee company, Coffee Mate, if  their coffee contains any harmful ingredients. The bitterness that came from the coffee was really bad. 

I asked my friends, Ethan and Evan if they wanted to come along too and we all agreed. We had to prepare many things such as taking the lizard’s cage out of its place, building a spaceship, having 9,000,000,000,000,000 gallons of oil and having to find a person with an IQ of 194 or higher. We decided to work together on one thing at a time. But after trying to take the lizard’s cage off, we basically gave up on that step until we did all of it.

We found a really good fuel source with 1,000,000,000,000,000 gallons for just a dollar. So we carried out 9,000,000,000,000,000 gallons of fuel with the help of Eddie Hall and Brian Shaw who are the strongest men in the world to help us. So we only spent $9. We bought it in Delaware so there aren’t taxes. We went around the world to find someone with about 300,000 IQ. After about 10 years we found one person with that. Most people would say their IQ is very high but when they got tested the IQ was usually 2 and rarely 3. When we found the right person, we asked him if I knew the basics and principles of building a spaceship. He said that the only metal that could hold together in this cold space is titanium. But in the world, titanium was expensive. So we went to the nearest bank and pleaded for money. After 7 hours of that, we got our first $1000 dollars. We asked Ictor, a smart guy who lived nearby, what to do, and we came up with a very simple solution: steal money from a bank. We got paint guns and wore all black and covered everything but our eyes. This way we don’t need to go to court.

We had brown eyes and I was sure there were at least 7.9 billion other people with brown eyes. I got him some weapons such as axes and swords for protection and getting into the vault. “Where is the big vault with tI $1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 (one billion trillion thousand.)?” “Oh, we just need to break everything in the bank down until we find it! Easy!” When we broke everything down we finally found the vault. We tried opening with their weapons but that didn’t work. “Our weapons are too not sharpened!” I told Ethan and Evan. “Good thing I brought my sharpener!” said Evan.

After we sharpened all of our weapons we tried again. The metal easily got ripped by the sword blade. And after almost no effort, the metal was completely open. And then, before his eyes, there was so much money. He loved it.  He got some bags and filled it with money. When they were done, they carried it to the car which was a huge pain. So they found a trolley borrowing center and they took that. They didn’t spend any money on it because the manager let them just take it because they had so much money. So when they brought it to the titanium store, they used all of it. They had the exact money. So they brought the titanium to the smart person and he started building right away. When he was at the last piece the whole thing broke down. 

“NOOOOOO,”  we were doomed.

Suddenly the water fountain beside them exploded and the whole town exploded with water again. Thankfully titanium is coffee resistant, but not thankfully, they had to build the whole ship again. The spaceship took so long to build but now, all of that work for nothing. Later, he realized that only one of the pieces of titanium was too sharp and that is how the thing collapsed. 

“Ten months of working and no progress made,” said Ethan. 

After they figured out the problem and finished the spaceship, they started to put the oil in the spaceship.

“Dum dee doo de da,” sang Ethan. When they finally put all of the oil in the spaceship, they started trying to pull the lizard’s cage off the ground. They called Eddie Hall and Brian Shaw to come over and help. They had to use all their strength to just lift the cage off the ground. After they did so, they went on the spaceship and took off.

9 MONTHS LATER: ON MARS

Evan and Ethan and Ethan were at the beach on Mars and were really relaxed. The calm sea and the red martian soil/sand was really soothing and he never wanted to leave the beach named Red Beach. They were looking at the sea and trying to burn their skin but it was very impossible on the beach because on Mars it was really cold. He was a lot taller than before. After all, he was 6 months old and now he is 25. Also, he got glasses. While he was building the spaceship, something went wrong and now without his glasses, he needs to go very close to see something clearly. They all thought ‘I wonder how it is on Earth. Should we have stayed on Earth, or should we have left?’ The sun was slowly going down and down, and they all slowly packed up and went home and never lived on Earth again.

THE END

The Weeping Willow

Trees are our lungs. That’s what Willow would tell me as we’d lie under the big oak tree out front. Hand in hand, we’d watch the clouds pass and the leaves blow. Occasionally one of us would point to a cloud, calling out what it looked like. The other would squint her eyes and try to see it. I could never see what Willow saw in the clouds. Hi, my name is Grace. Although I was never that graceful; that was Willow’s job. If we were animals she’d be a gazelle, prancing around majestically. Anyways, I’m 11 years old, and I think that if I were an animal I’d be a turtle. “You just need to come out of your shell!” She would say enthusiastically. 

“It’s not that easy. You don’t even have a shell to come out of!” I’d respond. 

Then she’d do a backflip or a front handspring or something, as if to say “Obviously”. She and I had this discussion many times.

This started on a spring day in late May. I woke up early, got dressed, and left for school. I didn’t bother having breakfast. I decided I’d buy a granola bar at the newsstand on the way to school. Of course, I forgot that they closed down the stand that weekend. After a breakfast of disgusting lime flavored yogurt from the cafeteria, I put my bag in my locker and made my way to homeroom. My teacher was droning on and on, and I was so tired I fell asleep right there on my desk. She had to wake me up, and by the time I realized what had happened the whole class was laughing at me. I hate being the center of attention. To make matters worse, Alyssa, my arch-enemy, started telling everyone. 

After English, Math, and Spanish, I made my way to gym class. I was crossing my fingers that we’d play dodgeball, because there’d be so much chaos I could waltz over to the girls bathroom when Ms. Jones wasn’t looking and spend the period reading instead. Instead, we played soccer, and she made me the goalie! Lunch, which followed P.E., wasn’t much of an improvement. I spilled a sloppy joe all over the front of my shirt, and by the time I had walked through the door of my bedroom I was exhausted, not to mention I had stains on my shirt and my hair was a mess. I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, then collapsed onto my bed.

I stayed in bed until my mom called me for dinner. I trudged over to the table and sat down. I started eating my pasta and my parents exchanged a glance. “Um–is there something wrong?” I asked, hesitantly. 

My mother sighed. “Sweetie, we know that you’ve been having a hard time at school this year.” 

Of course I have! I thought, but instead I just nodded. 

My dad cleared his throat and continued. “We think it would be a good idea to give you a fresh start.” I didn’t say anything, but I started fantasizing about what it would be like to go to school away from my tormentors, Alyssa and her group of followers.

I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll think about it, but I think it would be nice to go to a different school next year.” 

My parents exchanged another glance, and my dad spoke up. “Gracie, it wouldn’t be for the next school year, it would be for the summer. And, it’s not a choice. You’ll leave the Sunday after school ends.”

I looked up from my food. “Wait, what?? I’m spending the summer away?? Who am I even going with??” 

My mother said “that’s the other thing we want to talk to you about. You’ll spend the summer with my sister, Esme.” I scrunched up my face, trying to remember her from the family gatherings. My mom, reading my expression, said “Oh come on, you know Aunt Esme! She was at Thanksgiving last year!” Finally I nodded, vaguely remembering a  middle aged woman who sat across from me, who asked me to pass the cranberry sauce, and scolded Willow when she spit out her sparkling apple juice laughing. This was not who I wanted to spend the summer with. 

“Well-well- I won’t go! You can’t make me!” 

My dad stood up. “Oh yes you will.” He said, in his most stern voice. “You will have a great time, and you will learn new things.” Without a word, I stormed out of the room.

I ran into my room and flopped onto my bed with a satisfying flop. If Willow was here, she’d sit on the foot of my bed, give me a big hug, and tell me everything was okay. I got up and put my ear to the door. I could hear my parents muffled voices, but I could tell that no one was coming. Trying to be as silent as possible, I walked over to my bookshelf. I pulled over a chair and felt around on the top shelf until I found it. I got down, moved the chair back, and sat down on my bed. Then I started drawing. I had never been the creative one, that was Willow. She’d put on plays, write stories, and sew clothing, while I’d be the stage manager, check her grammar, or let her dress me up like a mannequin. I had always been the one who never spoke, who sat quietly in a corner reading. But when I drew, those pieces of imagination that I thought I had lacked came flowing out. Worlds of color and beauty right there on the page.

                 I could never tell anyone this, though. Like I said, this was Willow’s sort of thing. They’d probably all laugh at me, I thought. I kept sketching in that old composition book until I heard a knock on the door. Quickly, I stuffed the notebook in my pillowcase, right as my dad walked through the door to my bedroom. 

“Hey, kiddo.” He said, ruffling my hair. Immediately I got up and combed it back into place. My dad continued, “I just want to let you know that your mom and I are doing this for your own good.” I rolled my eyes at that. My dad took a deep breath. “Your mom and I have an idea. You can  spend 3 weeks there, and then we’ll come up and if you still want to leave you can, but if you want to stay, that’s also fine. No judgment.” 

“Ok, sure. Well goodnight.” I said, without making eye contact. 

He smiled. “Goodnight, Gracie.”  He said. After that I drifted off to sleep.

The next two weeks of school were a rush of standardized tests, assemblies, field days, and popsicles. Finally, the Sunday after the last day of school came. I sat on our porch, taking in the smell of the freshly mowed grass, the sound of honeybees pollinating, the feeling of the sun on my face. Summer I thought. At precisely 9:33 a.m, a black car pulled into the driveway. 

 A middle aged woman wearing jeans, a black blouse, and fancy ankle boots stepped out, with her hair neatly pulled into a bun perched on the top of her head. 

My own mom was wearing a striped shirt and shorts that went to her knees, complete with dirty sneakers from working in the garden. She wore a sun hat and her hair sat on her shoulders. At first I couldn’t see any resemblance. 

My mom had dark brown hair like me, while Aunt Esme had dirty blonde hair. My mom had tan skin, freckles, and callused hands, while Aunt Esme had pale, perfect skin and perfectly manicured nails. But after they had a tight hug, I could see their identical smiles. 

Finally, Aunt Esme walked over to me and smiled. “Hi, Aunt Esme.” I said hesitantly. 

She laughed, but it sounded forced. “Hi, Grace. Do you need any help with your luggage?” 

I looked at my duffel bag and backpack loaded with clothes and books. “No, that’s ok.” I said. 

After a moment of silence, my mom swooped in and said “Esme, why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee?” I followed my mom and Aunt Esme into the house and sat with them, sipping lemonade as they had their coffee. 

About 15 minutes later, Aunt Esme stood up, brushed herself off and turned to my mom. “It’s been lovely, Rachel, but we should go if we want to get back to my house before noon.” My mom stood up too and walked us outside. I hauled my duffel bag into the trunk of Aunt Esme’s car and tossed my backpack in the back seat. After a series of tight hugs from my mom and dad and reassurance from Aunt Esme, we got in the car and pulled out of the driveway.

The whole drive Aunt Esme and I didn’t talk much, except for “I’m stopping for gas, do you want anything from the convenience store?” 

To which I replied “No, thanks.” Finally, at 12:47 pm (we had in fact been caught in traffic), we turned right and drove up to a two story house that overlooked a lake. I thought about Aunt Esme, all shiny and fancy, living in an old house in the middle of nowhere. I would have thought that she lived in a luxury apartment! 

As if reading my mind, Aunt Esme just shrugged and said “It’s my summer home. Would you like to come see your room?” The guest bedroom, which was where I would be staying, had a big canopy bed with soft pillows and a pale blue bedspread. The walls had white wallpaper with little blue flowers, and there was a white vanity, a white dresser, a white desk, and hardwood floors covered by a pale blue carpet that matched the bedspread. What really got my attention though, was a window seat overlooking the lake. 

“It’s perfect.” I marveled. 

Aunt Esme looked at me and smiled, and was about to open her mouth to say something, but she snapped back into reality.  “Grace, would you like some lunch? I need to go shopping, we can do that this afternoon, but I have sandwich things.” I put a hand on my growling stomach and followed her downstairs. Over a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, Aunt Esme told her that they would go to town today to pick up some groceries, and for an “orientation” as she put it. After lunch I got a tour of the house, and then we went back in the car and went to town. 

Millstone (I learned that was the name of the town) was so bright and vibrant. It had cute little shops, and everyone knew each other.  I was once again surprised about where Aunt Esme lived.  After shopping we got dinner and ice cream. We arrived back at the house around 9:00 p.m. 

Aunt Esme worked on an article she was writing while I watched TV and ate candy I had bought from a store in the center of town. 

A little while later I climbed up the stairs. I had unpacked earlier, and I got my sketchbook out of the drawer in the wardrobe that I had hidden it in. I sat down on the window seat and started drawing. I drew the lake, I drew the birds, I drew the trees, and I drew the moon. As soon as I picked up a pencil a calm washed over me. 

The next morning I woke up in the window seat with my sketchbook in my lap and my pencil behind my ear. I was still in my clothes from the day before. walked over to the wardrobe, got dressed, and put my notebook back in its hiding place. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I found Aunt Esme sitting at the kitchen table typing away on her computer. When she saw me she looked up, closed her computer, walked over to the stove, and put a plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, mini muffins, and even a doughnut in front of me. My eyes widened. I looked up at Aunt Esme who blushed and said “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

After devouring breakfast, Aunt Esme told me that her friend who lived nearby was going to come over around 11:00 for brunch. “I want you to be on your best behavior.” she warned. Ah yes, the Thanksgiving “Get Some Towels To Clean Up The Mess You Made Young Lady” Aunt Esme was back. I went up to my room to make my bed. After that was done, I walked outside with my new book to look for good reading spaces. After making three loops around the house I decided on a little lawn chair next to the lake. Enough sun that I wouldn’t get cold on the chillier days, and enough shade so I wouldn’t come back to the house sunburned all over. 

I stared up at the trees. Willow would have loved this place, just sitting here writing or doing cartwheels or splashing me, even if I specifically said “Don’t splash me!” I must have gotten lost in my thoughts, or fallen asleep, but before I knew it it was 11:07 and Aunt Esme was calling out “Grace! Come meet Ms. Smith!” Ms. Smith was a tall woman who looked a lot like Aunt Esme. She was the editor for the Millstone Gazette. 

After introducing myself and bringing them some iced tea (“What a polite little girl!” Ms. Smith remarked), I headed back to the chair for my book. I was just about to sit down when I saw a flash of red. 

I whirled around, looking for animals, when I heard an unmistakable crunch of dead leaves. I grabbed my book and suspiciously followed the sound. I came to a patch in the woods, and realizing that there was nothing or no one there I sighed and turned around, when a girl with auburn hair popped her head out from behind a tree. “Hi!” she exclaimed.  I screamed. Obviously not noticing that, she said “I’m Maggie!” 

“H-hi.” I whispered. “Um- I’m Grace.”  

“Cool! Do you live here?” Maggie replied. 

“N-no. I’m spending the summer up here, with my Aunt Esme.” 

Maggie’s big smile decreased a little, but she nodded. “Ok. Do you want to come over and have popsicles?” 

I nodded and said “I’ll go ask my aunt.” 

On the walk over to Maggie’s house, I learned that Maggie was going into 6th grade just like me, Maggie had been the lead in the musical for the last two years, and that Maggie had  two older sisters and one older brother. As they got their popsicles out of the freezer, Maggie asked “Do you have any siblings?” 

I hesitated but said “No, I’m an only child.”

 Maggie nodded. “My oldest sister Sophie, she’s 17, and a perfect dancer, and right now she’s boarding at some fancy ballet school in New York City. She’ll be home in a week though! My brother Sam is 15, and QB on the highschool football team. He thinks he’s so awesome. Really, he just stinks up the house,” she said, elbowing a teenage boy walking past us. She licked her popsicle and said “Wanna go out back?”

I followed Maggie to the backyard. After Maggie took another lick of her popsicle and said “Then you have my 14 year old sister Olivia. She’s Miss. Popularity, cheer captain, she’s been the class president since 6th grade, and she’ll never let anyone forget it. She may seem sweet, but she’s the devil in disguise. Then you have me, Maggie. I have absolutely no athletic ability, but I sing and act and play piano. Last year I got a solo for the school-wide concert! I think that’s why my sister Sophie and I get along so well. We’re both performers. She got into Wellesley, and is going to continue dancing at the Boston School of Ballet.”

 Once I finished processing this information, I asked “Hey, what time is it?” 

Maggie checked her watch and said “11:53 am.” 

I jumped up. “Aunt Esme said I have to be home by noon!” 

Maggie just shrugged and said “Relax, we’ll get there on time! Come on!” Us two girlsjogged back to Aunt Esme’s house. We arrived at 11:58. I waved to Aunt Esme. 

“Bye, Grace!” Maggie called out. I gave a sort of wave and rushed inside. 

Once inside Aunt Esme started asking questions. “How was it? Did you have fun? What’s that girl’s name again…”  After Aunt Esme was satisfied with the answers I had provided, she handed me a bowl of mac n’ cheese. I picked up a spoonful of the cheesy, gloopy pasta, and tears came to my eyes. Aunt Esme turned around and said “What’s wrong? Is it burned? Or should I have not made it al dente?” 

I wiped the tears off her cheek and said “No, it’s fine, it looks delicious, it’s just…” I took a deep breath. “This was Willow’s favorite food. I haven’t eaten it since-” 

Without a word Aunt Esme whisked it away and put it in the fridge. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had no idea. I’ll tell you what, what if I eat it for dinner?” 

I nodded and said in a quiet voice. “Ok.” 

Aunt Esme asked, “Would you like a quesadilla?” 

I shook my head and stood up “I’m actually not hungry anymore.”  

I trudged upstairs and sat at my window seat with my sketchbook. Even though it was only noon, I felt exhausted. Everytime my eyelids dropped I snapped myself out of it, but I finally fell into a deep sleep. 

I woke up around 2:00 am. I went downstairs to get a snack. Finally settling on some chocolate chip cookies, I sat down, nibbling around the edges. 

After I finished, I went back upstairs and tucked myself in. No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t sleep. After 3 hours of light sleep on and off, I pulled on a hoodie andgrabbed my sketchbook. As quietly as possible, I opened the door and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The sun was just rising, and I watched the light bounce off the lake and the leaves.

I walked over to my little spot near the woods, I opened my notebook, and grabbed my pencil. I tried to think of things to draw, but the vibrant colors didn’t spill out like they did the other day. I closed my eyes and turned my head up. When I opened my eyes, I saw the leaves. I managed to sketch every one with veins and details. When I finally finished, I slammed my notebook shut and looked around. And standing right next to me was Aunt Esme. 

As soon as I made eye contact with her I stuffed my notebook under my hoodie. “Oh, um, Aunt Esme!” I said as cheerfully as possible. I continued.“Um, what are you doing? Did you see-” 

Aunt Esme put her hand up. “Grace, I saw you drawing, and you’re really good!” 

I looked down and blushed. “I never meant for anyone to see that.” I said quietly. “Willow was always the creative one. People would laugh at me if I showed them.” 

Aunt Esme looked me straight in the eye. “Grace, am I laughing? No, I’m observing this beautiful piece of art that you made. I bet if we showed this to your parents when they come in two weeks they wouldn’t laugh. They would be taken back by your beautiful art skills. I bet if we showed this to Maggie she wouldn’t laugh. She’d probably call it a work of fine art and put on a play based on it.” I smiled at that last one. Yep, that sounded like Maggie.

“The world needs artists like you, Grace! They need artists like you to show them beauty and affection. They need artists like you to sew the world back together when it’s broken in pieces. So what if Willow was also creative. I think that your parents would be pretty proud to say that they had two smart, creative, adventurous daughters. Now get dressed! I’m taking you out for breakfast at the diner in town.” 

At the thought of breakfast I leapt to my feet, but before I ran back into the house I looked at Aunt Esme. “Thank you.” I whispered. 

Aunt Esme pulled me into a tight hug. “Anytime.” She said, smiling. After a breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes and sausages, Aunt Esme took me to a crafting store in town and gave me $25. “I’ll be in the visitor’s center across the street, since I want to pick up the newspaper. Wait outside when you’re done, ok?” I nodded and ran into the cool, air conditioned store.

I marveled at all of the supplies. It took 15 minutes, but I finally decided to buy a 100 page sketchbook, a pack of charcoal pencils, regular drawing pencils, and even fancy watercolors! I paid and was walking down the street with Aunt Esme when I ran into Maggie. “Hi!” She exclaimed and said “hey, do you want to come over later to swim? It’s supposed to be REALLY hot today!” I looked at Aunt Esme who nodded in approval. 

Around 3:00 I headed over to Maggie’s house and rang the doorbell. A teenage girl wearing a cheer uniform answered the door. “H-hi. I’m Grace, Maggie invited me?”

The girl (who I assumed was Olivia) rolled her eyes, said “she’s out back,” and left, staring at her phone. I walked through the house to the backyard, where I found Maggie running through the sprinklers with a girl who looked like a college student. 

When Maggie saw me she jumped up and said “Sophie came back a day early!” She gestured towards the girl. Sophie walked towards me and introduced herself. After I changed into my bathing suit, all three of us cannon-balled into their part of the lake and swam to the floating dock, taking turns pushing each other off and going down the water slide. It was the most fun I’d had in a while. After 2 hours of swimming,  we raced back to the shore and dried off. 

“So, Grace.” Sophie said “Do you have any siblings?” 

Before I could open my mouth Maggie said “She’s an only child.” 

“Lucky!” said Sophie, elbowing Maggie. I smiled at the two sisters. 

“I should probably go home now,” I said, “It’s getting late.”. 

Sophie smiled at me and gave me a hug. “Sure! Do you want us to walk you there?” 

“No, that’s ok.” I replied simply. “I’m ok.” 

I arrived at home and found Aunt Esme standing outside the door with her hands on her hips. “Where were you?” she asked. 

“At Maggie’s house!” I exclaimed. 

“It’s 6:02! I told you to be back by 5:45! I was scared to death! I thought you had been mauled by a bear!” 

“Well, I’m here now,” I said. “God, Grace,” I thought, “when did you get so bold!”

Aunt Esme rolled her eyes and said “Don’t scare me like that again. But come inside, you must be starving.”

While I ate my spaghetti and meatballs, I told Aunt Esme all about Sophie and Maggie. Aunt Esme smiled. “Seems like you’re having fun up here!” she commented. 

I slid off the chair. “Oh, no. I’m definitely not having fun.”

I wasn’t having fun, but everyday I went swimming with Maggie and Sophie and walked downtown to get ice cream. I wasn’t having fun, but every night I made drawings and showed them to Aunt Esme. I wasn’t having fun, but every night I stared up at the stars, counting every one I could see. 

About a week after Aunt Esme caught me drawing, she had a guest come over for tea. She said that her name was Ms. Martins, and that she was a bit uptight. Aunt Esme also asked that I was on my best behavior. But at least Maggie could come over! Ms. Martins looked a lot older than Aunt Esme, like she could be a grandmother. I served the ladies tea, and then went down to the lake with Maggie. It was too cold to swim, so we were just hanging out.  Suddenly, I started hearing snippets of their conversation. Yes, Grace. What was her twin’s name? I held up a finger, signally for Maggie to be quiet. 

“Ah yes, Willow,” I heard  Ms. Martins say. “Yes, I met that girl once, didn’t I? Never liked her.” I stood up and dusted myself off and slowly walked towards Ms. Martins and Aunt Esme, Maggie following me. I could hear Ms. Martins talking. “Honestly, Esme, she was too rowdy. Too loud. Back in my day girls were quiet and nice. Willow is… not that. And she had absolutely no manners. Honestly that girl looked like a pig, shoveling food down her mouth.”

That was the last straw. I stood up, grabbed Ms. Martin’s teacup, and threw it on the ground. I felt my ears get hot, and I felt a burst of energy that I never had before. And then I screamed.

 “HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT! YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL WILLOW A PIG, WHEN YOU LOOK LIKE ONE YOURSELF! YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, IF YOU PUT LIPSTICK ON A PIG IT’S STILL A PIG! YOU’RE THE EXAMPLE OF THAT!” 

By the time I finished, my throat hurt and there were tears streaming down my face. Ms. Martins looked like she was about to faint. Maggie looked like she was holding back a laugh. After a few seconds we all came to our senses. Ms. Martins grabbed her purse, whacked me in the arm with it, yelled “Good day!” and walked to her car. Before Aunt Esme could say anything, I ran into the woods, Maggie running after me, and I curled into a ball on the forest ground. I cried and cried and cried. I curled myself into a ball so tight I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the walls were caving in on me. It felt like my lungs had exploded. 

Finally, Maggie caught up to me. “Are you okay?” She asked. “What’s wrong?” And right then, the words just came tumbling out. 

Willow and I were not twins. I was born at 11:55 pm on December 28th. She was born at  12:03 am on December 29th. We were both preemies. Three pound Grace and three and a half pound Willow. I needed a machine to breathe for me. Willow got to go home three weeks before me, and apparantly she was never happy until I came home.  We were inseparable. But then came 5th grade. 

Alyssa got worse and worse, and Willow wasn’t able to stand up for me. Around October Willow was diagnosed with leukemia. She fought so hard. After all the injections, she rubbed her arm and brushed it off. After losing her hair to chemo, she laughed. After all the pain, she managed to put a smile on her face. We thought she would make it, but mid-February she passed away. I had always been shy, but I would barely talk. It felt like there was a hole in my heart. Willow had taught me about everything from trees and nature to fashion design and gymnastics. 

After talking about all of this, I realized something. Until I had come up  to this tiny little town of Millstone, I had been sad and lonely all of the time. But up here I was happy. I made new friends. And although Willow would always be a part of my life, and I would always love her, the gap in my heart was starting to be filled. With Maggie. With Sophie. With Aunt Esme. 

A week later my parents came up to Millstone. After ice-cream, it was decision time. “So, Gracie, do you want to come home?” My dad said. 

I took a deep breath. “I want to stay here for the summer. I’m away from Alyssa. I’ve made friends. I have Aunt Esme. And I’m happy.”

After getting over their surprise, my parents gave me a tight hug and drove away. “I have something for you!” Aunt Esme said. She pulled out of her purse a copy of the Millstone Gazette, with a drawing on the front page. I looked closely and I noticed that it was my drawing of the tree! “The world needs to see your art, Grace!” Aunt Esme said. I hugged the newspaper close to my chest. I loved Millstone. Up here, I had the memory of Willow surrounding me. Up here I could finally breathe. 

Because trees are our lungs. Don’t chop us down.

Things of the Lost River

Shards of glass bottles

fragments of old toys

float and flow

alongside the broken hearts 

discarded dreams 

thoughts and ideas   

cast aside.

The lost river

is made of loss, grief, sorrow

and the image

that the unfixable

is truly unfixable

Alas 

the unfixable is fixable

If only you spark hope

you can bring the dead things 

of the river

back alive

If you can spark the hope

The Lost River

can be found once more

Breakaway

1


My father’s long, pale, fingers slide across the keyboard, creating a familiar melody. Her song.  My hands slip on the long knife, fingers wet with tears. 

“Papa?” 

My father turns. His eyes are bloodshot.

“Papa?” I repeat. 

His voice is barely audible, raspy and weak.

“She’s gone.”

“To where?” I whisper. “Where has she gone?”

“I don’t know,” he says, “but she’s never coming back.”

****

The house feels quiet without her. Her long gowns, and those eyes that have countless untold secrets behind them. I open the door to her room, which is neatly organized into sections. 

My father’s side of the room houses framed sheet music and stacked clothes. Tissues covered in blood litter the floor, and the rancid smell of vomit wafted from the adjoining bathroom.

The other half of the large room is my mother’s. Each piece of antique furniture is spotless, each dress in her polished closet is unharmed, and frankly, looks like it was barely worn. Her bathroom radiates cleanliness and the distinct smell of lavender. 

In the center of the room is a large, king sized bed, with two little tables flanking each side. A small book lies on the pale sheets. I take it cautiously, eyes roving across the floral cover. There’s no protection on it – no lock, no password. It opens at my touch.

Hurriedly, I snap it shut and run across the hall to my room. I know it’s irrational, but somehow, it feels like she’s still here, watching me. Like her body – her spirit – has inhabited this house long enough to make a lasting impression. 

I rush across the hall to my bedroom and punch in the combination for the small safe next to my bed. I quickly shove the book in and slam the door. I can hear the sound of my father heaving on the bottom floor, and turn my head to check the time. 18:27. Dinner. 

The sound of my feet clomping down the stairs startles Freddie, my chubby orange cat who enjoys napping on the banister. I think that he senses that something is wrong in this house – though that may be because my mother usually feeds him. His eyes narrow, and he lets out a small hiss before falling back asleep. 

I can see my father lying on the floor, eyelids flickering. 

I run towards him, picking up his limp body and placing it on the couch. 

I check his pulse. Still breathing. 

“Matilda?” he whispers.

“Yes, Papa?”

“I’m tired.” 

I smile weakly. 

“Get some sleep,” I say. “I’ll make some food.”

As I begin to walk towards the kitchen, I realize something. 

“Jamie?” I yell. 

I forgot about my brother.

I sprint past my father, who is passed out on the couch, back up the stairs, and into my little brother’s room. 

“Hey, Jamie… are you ok? I’m making dinner, it’ll be ready soon…”

Silence.

“Jamie?”

I hear quiet sobs coming from the closet.

Jamie is curled in the fetal position, resting on a pile of clothes. 

“Hey, J…” 

I wrap my arms around his shivering body. 

“I’m making mac and cheese – your favorite!”

He sniffles and wipes his nose. 

“Tilda? Where – where is she?”

I close my eyes, trying to hold back tears.

“I don’t know.”

“But you always know! You always know!” he rasps.

“This time, I don’t. Now come with me. You can have dessert before and after dinner.”

My brother picks at his food. His tongue is bright blue from the lollipop he had while I was cooking. 

I smile and pat him gently on the head.

“Eat,” I scold.  “You don’t want a stomachache, do you?” 

He scowls, but starts to spoon his mouth full of pasta. 

“Petra?” My father opens his eyes and looks around. 

“No, Papa. It’s only me,” I say. “Would you like me to make you a plate?” 

He nods, and I bustle around the kitchen to get him his dinner. 

“Wait!” exclaims my brother as I start to head over to my dad. 

I turn. 

“It could be contagious. You haven’t been hugging him or anything, have you?”

Sometimes, even though I’d never tell him, I think my 9-year-old brother might be smarter than me. 

I pull the collar of my green sweater over my nose and mouth, and proceed to give my father the food. 

“Now, be careful there,” I say to Papa. “Eat as much as you like. If you feel nauseous, take a break. Ok?”

He gives me a small, forced, smile as he grabs his fork and digs in. 

***

I tuck Jamie into bed and extinguish the candle by his bedside table. My father’s digestive system and the macaroni clearly didn’t get along – the heaving in the downstairs bathroom is louder than ever. But I leave him alone. At this point, I can’t do much more than feed him and clean his vomit off the floor. I need to focus on getting out of this godforsaken place – and finding her. 

Later that night, I sit on my bed, running my fingers across the cover of the book. The door to my room is locked, and I finally feel like her ever-present eyes have closed for the night, and she can’t see what I’m about to do.

I open the book and begin to read.

            2 – The Diary


04.09.93 23:47 am

The stars are gorgeous tonight. It’s just the right temperature.

I could see Jeb through the glass. He’s bent over, working in the field. I haven’t spoken to him since graduation. 

I look up at the ceiling as if it holds all the answers.  

I can hear my parents arguing through the thin walls of our flat. 

There was a knock on my window. 

“Jeb?” I asked.

He taped a note to the window, winked, and climbed downwards, out of sight.

The note was a love song. I can feel the tears threatening to spill over as I tear it into small pieces. I can’t be distracted by a silly serenade.

Do I love him? I’m not sure. 

But even if I did, I couldn’t. 

Shouldn’t.

David Foster. 

That’s his name. 

From what I’ve heard, he seems like a stand-up guy. Plays piano. Likes animals. Rich. That’s good enough for my parents – and I guess it should be good enough for me.

Dearest Diary, you feel like the only thing that will listen to me these days. I haven’t even talked to Imani in weeks. 

As much as I miss Jeb, I miss her more. She’d be able to talk me out of being my usual stupid self. 

Yesterday, I tried to send her a letter. My parents found it. I don’t know what the sudden change in heart is all about. Up until recently, I was allowed to hang out with Imani whenever I wanted. 

Between her big brother being in the army, and the security systems on the house, safety was certainly never an issue. 

I feel like I’m going mad without them. 

You know what?

I don’t care what my parents say. They marry me off to some nerdy loner for the extra cash.

If I ever have kids, I’ll NEVER  treat them the way my parents treat me.

I’m better than that.

I’m better than them.

And, tomorrow, darling Diary,

I’m going to find my friends.

3


I look up, eyes wide. 

I feel like I violated her trust – and David Foster?
That’s my dad.

I never knew that they had an arranged marriage – but it explains a lot. The long silences, the cold stares.  

But something that I never thought would happen just did. 

I feel like I can relate to my mother.

That determination. Knowing something’s up, 

Even though I may not be as close to her as I am to my father, I’ve  idolized her.

Thought she was perfect.

It’s funny, really. How she complains about her parents. How she says she’ll never be like them. But she is them. Almost an exact carbon copy. 

The materialistic hunger. The tight leash she holds her children on. 

But somehow, I admire her even more than before.

At least I understand her motives, her spirit.

I feel a sudden rush of anger.

Even if she didn’t love my dad, that gives her no right to leave him – us – in the time that we need her most. 

Through my anger, a sudden idea flashes in my mind. It’s odd that I didn’t see this immediately. 

My mom didn’t grow up here. She was born in the town of Milesea. And it sounds like this man that my mom liked, Jeb, grew up there too. 

So I’m going to get there. 

***

I stand in front of the van shop. Billy stares back at me defiantly.

“How many times do I have to say this? I want to rent a van.

“Kid, how many times do I have to say this? You’re a minor. You can’t rent.”

I sigh. This is my last resort.

I slap a large wad of bills on the table. 

It’s now Billy’s turn to sigh.

“Do you want it furnished?” 

An hour later, I leave the store in a large camper van. The inside had been renovated a few months earlier and now holds a small kitchenette, a little couch, a bunk bed, and a small chamber pot hidden in the corner.  

Luckily, I got my driver’s license last month, a few weeks before my mom left. It was one of the few times in my entire life that I had actually left the palatial grounds of my house, 

The van’s big wheels scrape on the rough rocks of my thin driveway.  

Jamie stands on the porch, waving at me. I hop out of the van and ruffle his hair.

“Go pack,” I say. “We leave at 10:00.”

***

I brush my hair out of my eyes and pull it back into a slick ponytail. I put on a pair of fraying jeans and a black hoodie over a green polo shirt. It’s the clothes I usually wear to help Mrs. Lynn in the garden – but I guess it’s good for driving. I turn and start to zip up my bag – and stop. The little stuffed rhino that I’ve had since I was born stares at me pleadingly. I’m 16, but I still sleep with it. So I grab it and shove it in my bag before Jamie can see. He teases me about it – even though he has one himself. But he’s 9. 

I only packed one suitcase for myself. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.  But I packed two for my dad. One filled with clothes, the other with medicine and towels that we can soak in water when his fever gets too high.

In the living room, Jamie sits atop a suitcase in a t-shirt and baggy jeans. His curly hair looks like someone tried tame it back and failed miserably, resulting in a worse frizz than ever.

My father sits on the couch, dark circles that are always under his eyes more apparent than ever.

Supporting him, we head over to the car, and I help Papa into the bottom bunk. 

We’re resigned to protecting ourselves from whatever disease he has – because if it’s contagious, we probably already have it.

Before starting the van, I help Jamie get situated in the top bunk, where he soon gets comfy with his book.

As I climb down the ladder, I see my father murmuring in his sleep, and I don’t really think anything of it – but I check his forehead. Hot. 

So I make use of those towels. After covering it in icy water, I place it on his head, hoping to give him some relief.

I don’t know how much it did, but I start up the car. If we want to get to Milesea in the next few days, then we better get going soon.

I’m driving well into the night. My eyelids flutter as I try to stay awake. 

Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn my head around. 

My father is standing behind me, a crazed look in his eyes. 

“Papa, go back to sleep. At Milesea, we’ll find a doctor for you, and you’ll feel all better.”

He gives me a big grin, but in one swift motion, shoves me off the seat and gets in himself.

“Papa!” I shout. “You’re sick! You shouldn’t be driving!”

His eyes are bright and shining with an almost demonic happiness, but tears run like waterfalls down his sunken cheeks.

“Petra. Petra. Petra. For Petra.”

I know what’s about to happen. 

I rush up the old wooden ladder and wrap my arms around my brother’s sleeping form.

“I love you,” I whisper into his ear. “Always.”

Then everything goes black.

Epilogue (Six Months Later)


I open my eyes. My bedroom is dimly lit and small, but it’s what we can afford.

We both work, and our jobs don’t pay very well – but we get by. Three months ago, we made enough to buy our own house.

Two bedrooms. Two bathrooms. Big backyard.

It’s beautiful, but not nearly what I’m used to. And I’ve tried to be fine with that, but I find myself missing the riches my old life came with.

“Petra?” Jeb’s head peeks through the door frame. “Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?”
I muster a small smile. 

“Better than yesterday, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

I walk up to Jeb and give him a small kiss on the cheek. 

He pulls away, smiles, and bends down.

“Morning kiddo!”

And then he plants a kiss on my belly.

For the first time in forever, I finally feel at peace. 

I walk into the bathroom and stare at myself in front of the mirror. My floral dress sweeps on the wet bathroom tiles. 

My hair is braided loosely down my back, a sharp contrast to the harsh bun I wore when I lived at the mansion. I feel so free these days. Yesterday, I spent hours curled up on the couch under a blanket, drinking hot tea, face buried in a book. And the day before, I decorated the nursery in hues of pink and blue. The bedroom for my new baby girl. 

I hated my life before, but I didn’t hate my children. I couldn’t bear to tell them about how I grew up. How I met their father. How I never loved him. So I stayed silent. 

I’m sending them a letter today explaining everything. I’m hoping that they’ll come to meet their little half-sister when she’s born.

But for now, I’m going to focus on what I have, not what I left behind.