Category: Summer 2022

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.

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-

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.

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:

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. 

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.

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

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.

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.

Chapter 1

“Come onnnn!” I yell. 

“I’m coming! Just wait one minute,” my mom calls back. Tonight is the Night of Freeness, and Queen Sleeping Beauty and King Charming are hosting a ball. The Night of Freeness is when famous creatures and, well, not-famous creatures, hang out together. It’s my favorite night because I don’t need to work. You see famous creatures like Humpty Dumpty, Cinderella and The Beast, who are supposed to have a great luxurious life because yeah, they are famous. Unfamous creatures need to work for famous creatures to make the famous creatures’ lives better. I am an unfamous creature. 

Back to the ball. Queen Snow White, of course, helps with that. Queen Snow White is the leader of all the balls and, in my opinion, the leader of  the world. Oh, the glorious Queen Snow White, this. Oh the glorious Queen Snow White, that. So annoying! I wish I could be a famous creature. And hey, I was there when Humpty Dumpty fell! But of course, the boring Ella never got mentioned. Of course not. She’s nothing important. Hmph! 

“Ok, I’m ready. Let’s go,” my mom says as she comes out of the dressing room. I twirl around the room. My long black hair swings around me. I have always thought my mom was way prettier than me, but I never tell her. She is wearing a long and poofy yellow dress with white swirls. 

“Are we going to take a carriage, or walk?” I asked. I knew the answer. 

“We wouldn’t want to ruin our pretty dresses,” She says. We walk down the stairs that lead to the outside. It’s spring. There is a light breeze, but it is also warm out. Butler Mother Toppkins opens the carriage door for us. 

“Thank you,” Mother says. “Oh, Mother Toppkins! Are you going to the ball too? It is the Night of Freeness, and you don’t need to work for us until tomorrow,” she adds. 

Mother Toppkins smiles.  “I will go, thank you,” she says. Then she shuts the door. 

“Now, you need to be very well mannered and kind. Queen Snow will be up in her room. She doesn’t like too much attention,” Mother says. 

I nod my head. The carriage starts moving. Queen Snow has a room at every castle, even ours. It’s required. Oh my gosh! I just got the greatest idea in the history of great ideas! I don’t want to ruin the fun of the Night of Freeness, but I don’t think any of this is fair. I want to be free.

 Usually on normal days mother and I go over to Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk’s house and Clean! ‘Cause he’s all famous and we need to respect him and all. I’m going to change this. I’m going to talk to Queen Snow.

Chapter 2

Mother gets out of the carriage and lifts up her dress. I get out of the carriage and trip. I fall on my knees. Ow. That’s ok. No harm done. I see Mother smothering a laugh.

 “Please don’t insult me,” I say as I get up. Mother nods. Here’s my plan. Queen Snow will be up in her room, and I will be down at the ball. I can tell the guards that I need to go to the bathroom, and the other bathroom has been locked forever! I’m a kid, so they cannot expect too much from me. Then, I go up and talk to Queen Snow. I will talk to her about how I think I and some of the other creatures should be free. She probably will not listen. But I can bribe her. Queen Snow basically gets everything she wants. She wants our Castle of Light badly, and she would do anything to get it. Three years ago she offered her son’s life for it. There is some history through the Kingdom of Light and Queen Snow’s son. Queen Snow has one son, Sammy, and one daughter, June. Sammy is 15, and June is 12. Sammy, when he was about my age, 10, wanted to have a fairy cake for his birthday. If you blow out the candle of a fairy cake and make a wish, that wish comes true no matter what. The Light Kingdom is the only kingdom that sells fairy cakes besides the Sea Kingdom, where the cake gets soggy. Sammy didn’t have any money, but he came over to the Light Kingdom. The fairy didn’t know it was Sammy at the time, and told him he needed to pay double for his rudeness. Sammy got upset and grabbed a knife from the butcher’s stand, threatening to kill the poor fairy. He didn’t, but the Light Kingdom has feared Sammy ever since. We have also heard that Sammy has gotten even more dangerous. At that thought, I shivered. 

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go inside,” Mother says

We start walking toward the castle. It is giant, with two long pillars on the side. It has a moat, but one so small you could just step over it. It’s gray, and has a drawbridge. At the very top of it, you can see Queen Snow’s room. Her room is always at the top left. In every castle. I have no idea why. Mother and I step onto the open drawbridge and go inside the castle. 

Woah. Double woah. There is a big chandelier hanging on the high ceiling. There are rows and rows of snacks and in the very back of the room there are three thrones, one big and two smaller. Queen Sleeping Beauty, King Charming and the bigger one for Queen Snow. And, greatest of all, there are twisting stairs that lead all the way up to Queen Snow. Two guards are patrolling the stairs. I guess Queen Snow put them there. 

“You can go find some other kids to play with, I want to greet Queen Sleeping Beauty and King Charming,” Mother says, and with that she pats my back and leaves. In other cases I would grumble and say something like Fine, leave me stranded, I’m sure I’ll find somebody else to raise me. Then, Mother would  chuckle and walk away. But now I am high-energy, ready for anything. 

I take a look around. Hmmm. I need to find a way to lock the bathroom door, but still be able to get out. I’ve got it! I run to the bathroom and say a lot of “ excuse mes” and “sorries”. I look at the bathroom. Ah, a window. I lock the door, then get a white stool with pink and green polka dots. It is not very pretty in my opinion. I prop the stool under the windowsill and open the window. Oh! This is a bad idea. I might ruin my dress! Then I think about all the times I’ve needed to clean those golden eggs and trim weeds. This will be worth it. I climb out the window. My silky blue dress snags on the window, and I stumble. I can’t rip it, or Mother will know something is up. I carefully lift my dress off the windowsill edge. Phew. I close the window and turn around the corner. Now I can see the entrance. I see a carriage with a lady getting out. She has beautiful blonde hair that is in a long braid. Rapunzel.  I step over the moat and get on the drawbridge. Yay! I’ve made it. I walk through the entrance into the reception room and try not to look like I just climbed out of a bathroom window. Then I put on a very sad face. I wobble over to the stairs. A guard looks at me. 

“Hello. Queen Snow’s personal service. How may I help you?” the guard says. I try not to laugh, keeping the sad look pasted on my face. 

“I need to use the potty!” I say.

“ Oh! Uh…There is a bathroom to the left of the royal thrones,” The guard says. He looks kind of surprised. Maybe he expected me to be more mature.

 “No! I need to go potty and the other bathroom is not opening! I want to go!” I say.

 The guard looks at me up and down. Then he closes his eyes and sighs

. “Right. Go on up. If I hear any disturbance at all from Queen Snow you are going to jail. Do you understand?” he asks.

 I try to look worried and nod. Then I rush upstairs. “Bathroom 23 is locked. Repeat, Bathroom 23 is locked,” I hear the guard say. Yay! I made it. Now for the hard part.

Chapter 3

I crawl up the stairs. Oh my gosh! How does Queen Snow get all the way up here? While I’m walking up the stairs I should probably plan what to say. Should it be babyish, like with the guard, or more mature? I think it should be more mature. Here goes nothing. I get up to the highest floor. There are 3 rooms. Queen Snow is known for being kind and generous, so this should be pretty easy. Hopefully. Which room should I check first? The first door is closed fully, and there’s a strangely awesome smell coming from that room. The second is closed, and it smells really bad. The third is closed too, and no sound or smell comes from it. I know the one on the left with the good smell is Queen Snow’s room, but she could be in any of the others. I want to get it over with, so I will check the smelly one first. 

“That’s enough!” I hear. I can’t tell what room it comes from. I open the door to the first and smelly one. Pee U! It’s a bathroom. Ewwwwwwww! Let me check the next one. Which one should I pick? How about her room?

“NO! I want it!” I hear. It’s coming from room one: her bedroom, the one with the nice smell. I quickly take a peek into the third room. The walls are red and the room is really messy. Dirty socks and wet paint brushes are on the bed. I quickly shut the door. I need to talk to Queen Snow. I open the door and hope for the very best. 

“It has BAD grammar, and my kids need to be good rulers!” Queen Snow shouts. The room is very small, smaller than the messy room. The walls are a hot pink. There is a made bed with a book on it. Queen Snow is sitting in a fluffy looking chair, and I desperately want to push her off it so I can take a seat. She is sitting in front of a dresser and mirror. A tall, skinny kid is pulling a book from Queen Snow’s hand. A second ago, she said “My kids need to be good rulers”. Who would dare pull anything out of Queen Snow’s hand? Suddenly everything fit together. I stumble back and grip onto the railing. I’m standing in front of the most dangerous person in the kingdom. And that person is, unfortunately, Sammy White. 

Queen Snow looks at me like she doesn’t know what to make of this. “What is THIS?” she exclaims. Sammy looks at me. I have two options. I can run down the stairs at full speed, or stay. I need to do this.

  “Um…My na-” I start to say.

 “Oh! I recognize her. She is some princess of light, or something,” Sammy interrupts. His eyes scream ‘Come at me, I dare you’. I take a deep breath. 

“Yes, thank you Sammy,” I say and try to look calm.

 “Ah. Ok. Um… Your name is?” Queen Snow says.

 “E-Ella, your majesty,” I say, curtsying.

 “That is more like it. Why did you come up here, Ella princess of light? Because I don’t have much time. You seem to stutter way too much for this to be proper, but please go on,” Queen Snow says. I’m taken aback by her rudeness.

 “I’m sorry…your majesty” I say. She sighs. “I wanted to come to talk to you about famous and unfamous creatures,” I say.

 “My mother doesn’t talk about that,” Sammy says. I try to ignore him. I need to face my fears.

 “No darling, let her talk,” Queen Snow says.
“Thanks. I want you to change this. I am treated unfairly, and I don’t like that. I am a maid for Jack’s house,” I say.

 “Honey, please. I don’t change stuff like that.” Queen Snow responds. She examines her nails while I talk.

 “Stop worrying about how pretty you are, and listen to me!” I demand. 

Queen Snow looks up, surprised.  “Do not talk back to me!” she yells, getting up from her chair.

 “We are all the same! We are all equal!” I yell.

 “Leave!” She yells.

 “I will talk to my mom and see if you can get our castle in exchange for you letting every single unfamous creature go,” I say. I try to stay calm. I’ve suddenly realized that I’m not only scared of Sammy, I’m afraid of Queen Snow.  Queen Snow sits back down.

“Sammy darling, please go into your room. I need to talk to Ella, alone,” Queen Snow says, in a dangerously calm voice. Sammy nods. He leaves the room and pushes me out of his way. He goes into the dirty third room.

“You are embarrassing!” Queen Snow immediately says. 

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“You are embarrassing!” She shouts, even though I didn’t mean excuse me like please repeat that, I meant it like how rude can you get! “You think I would give away my power and fame for some lame castle that I wanted three years ago? You think?” Queen Snow cries. I feel my face turning red. “Go back from where you came from and stop disturbing me!” Queen Snow yells. 

Am I actually going to let some snobby Queen treat me this way? No, I will not! 

“You- You are the worst queen ever! And for your information, I will go back to where I came from!” I shout. I storm down the stairs.

“You know there is an elevator!” Queen Snow yells, slamming her door.

UGH!

Chapter 4

“Can we go home now?” I ask my mother. The chandelier and thrones don’t look pretty anymore. 

“Are you feeling Ok?” Mother asks me. 

“Fine, I’m feeling fine,” I grumble.

“Okay, we can leave soon,” Mother says, then she turns her back on me. 

Why was Queen Snow so rude? What was her problem? “Mother, aren’t you tired of being treated badly by the famous cr-” I start to say.

 “Honey, we don’t talk about that here.” Mother interrupts.

 “Then let’s go home so we can talk about it,” I say. My mother looks at me for a long time.

 “Fine then” Mother says. She takes me by the arm and we start walking out of the castle.

“Have you ever met Queen Snow?” I ask her in the carriage. 

“Ah, yes. Once when I was very tiny. She came over and wanted to take a look at me. She wants to every time there is a new baby. I don’t remember much. I do remember my mother talking to her and bowing. But no more, Why?” Mother says. I decide not to answer the question. Mother is looking out of the window. 

“Mother, I want to start a protest against Queen Snow,” I say. 

Mother looks up from the window. “Really? And why is that?” she asks. 

I sigh. “Aren’t you ever going to realize that cleaning Jack’s house is not the most productive thing to do?” I ask her. She chuckles. When will she notice? Why hasn’t anybody done anything? 

“No, it is not such a productive thing, is it.”Mother says. I can’t believe she is agreeing. 

“I want to do a protest, a parade!” I yell as the carriage stops. Mother looks at me and I expect her to say something like No, darling, that is a bad idea. But she smiles.

 “Okay” She says. 

That was… easy. I get out of the carriage and finally lift my dress up correctly! 

“Mother, I saw Sammy today.” I say. I don’t know why I do it or if I shouldn’t have. Mother stops dead in her tracks.  

“A-And where was this?” she asks, cautiously and slowly.

“I went up to Snow White’s room today. I saw Sammy there. I went up to talk to her about the fairness of creatures.” I say, trying to seem pretty chill about it.

“Go up to your room NOW!” Mother yells.

“What about the parade?” I ask. I immediately knew I shouldn’t have.

“Later! I need to think now! I have done so much for you and you respond like THIS!” my mother yells. My eyes tear up. I dash into the castle and run up the stairs. I don’t bother taking my heels off. I have done a lot in return too. I am a good daughter! 

Chapter 5

Rap rap rap. 

“Oh come on. I am sorry. Please let me in ” I hear Mother’s voice say.
“Fine,” I grumble, and I open the door. I know that Mother is sorry, but the parade meant a lot to me. She just shut that idea out.

“I am really sorry. Let’s do the parade. We only have a day to convince people anyways, because today is the Day of Freeness. If we wait till tomorrow, Queen Snow will put us in jail. So get out here so we can spread the word about this parade,” Mother says. I nod. She is right. We only have today. 

“So, I was thinking, we work for them, right? What if part of the protest was not working for them. Because they need us,” Mother says. I nod again. “Come on, let’s go,” she says. 

“ Should we make posters?” I ask. 

This time, mother nods. “You go around telling people, and I will put up posters, Ok?” Mother asks. 

“Sure” I agree. 

The door knob is cold to my fingers. I walk down the two flights of stairs.  I think I forgive Mother. I ran across the wet grass. Our neighbor is also an unfamous creature. His name is Ferm chicken. He is a chicken.  He is one of the happiest, talkiest chickens I ever have known. I knock on his door, and I spot Mother coming out of our castle holding some flyers. His house is unstable and made of hay. I would not be surprised if  the whole house collapsed over my hand. The door opens. 

“What? Oh my! Princess of light!” says Ferm chicken, bowing three times.

“Yeah”  I say. “I wanted to tell you that the unfamous creatures are going to stop working for the famous creatures in protest.”

“Oh my gosh, that is great! Do you want to come inside? It is such an awesome day out, isn’t it?” Ferm chicken asks.

“Oh, no thank you! But how is Mrs. Frem chicken?” I ask.

“Ok, thank you for asking.” Ferm chicken replies. He stares at me for a couple of seconds.

“Do you know any good places to find unfamous creatures?” I ask. 

“Yeah, try house 54.” Ferm chicken says.

“Thanks.” I say. He shuts the door with a big slam. The hay house trembles. House 54. House 54. Ah. Here. On the door it has a sign that says:

BEWARE OF THE PIG. 

THAT’S MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I gulp. But if Ferm chicken trusts this dude, I bet I should, too. I slowly knock on the door. 

“Hullo. My name Loin the lion,” says the lion who answers the door.

“Hello, Loin the lion-” I say, before getting cut off.

“NOOOOOO! My name Loin! Not Loin the lion!” He interrupts. 

“Sorry, Loin.” I say.

“Sure.” Loin says.

“So, me and some other folks are going to stop working for famous creatures in protest. Will you?” I ask him.

“Sure,” he says. I can’t tell if that is a yes, but that’s ok.

“Loin, do you know any other places where there are other unfamous creatures’ houses?” I ask.

“23 house DOGGY.” Loin says. Then he breaks out in giggles, whispering “doggy hee hummy hee doggy dum dog dutch hee hum le lum doggy hee hummy hee doggy dum dog dutch he hum le lum doggy hee hummy!”

Suddenly, he shuts the door in my face. Ok…

“Bye!” I call.

“Bye bye doggy!” Loin cries. 

This goes on for three to four hours, and I get every single unfamous creature in the whole Kingdom of Light to join the parade. Mother does a good job with the posters. I see a few. They say:

Have you ever felt like you had more

potential than cleaning a house? 

Stop working and cleaning for 

Them then! They need us and will have

to learn how to do it on their own! 

Lots of people agree! Don’t be embarrassed!

And stuff like:

We are stopping working! We can do more

 than just cleaning! Lots of creatures are 

doing it! Don’t be embarrassed! We are all

equal, and some people can’t see that! They 

need us now! But they need to learn how to 

do this on their own! 

As I walk home I think about how Queen Snow would’ve reacted to this. She would probably have said something like “Darling! This is such a horrid idea! Don’t do this to your friends!” Ha ha. I hope I never have to see her or Sammy again! I probably will, though.  My feet hit the ground. It’s hot out. This morning it was pretty cool, but now the cobblestones are melting. Boy. In the distance, I see our castle. It’s funny; there are high people, low people and really low people. I still live in a castle, but I am a maid. Queen Snow is at the very top. The people in my kingdom are at the bottom. Everybody would be famous! Or rather, everybody would be unfamous. I look up and see the castle. I’ve been walking for a long time and my legs are sore. 

When I get home I see Mother on the couch, reading a book. I sit on the couch next to her and grab a random book. I could read anything now. The ways of her majesty Queen Snow White. Nevermind. Not anything. I put that book down and pick up another book. I start reading, and the words swirl in my brain. Hopefully this will end ok.

Chapter 6

I turn in my bed. I can’t be late or I will be scolded by Jack. 

“Ughhh” I say. Suddenly, I remember about the not working thing. I can go back to sleep! Yay! I cuddle my covers. Just as I’m falling back asleep I hear a knock on the door. “NOOOOO!” I half mumble, half shout. Mother comes in and sits on the end of my bed. I turn my back to her by flopping around. 

Mother chuckles. “Darling, you need to get up. Queen Snow is at the door,” she says, calmly. 

I bolt straight up.

 “Woah! Deep breaths. Deep breaths. She wants to talk to you about the absence of  some maids,” Mother says. 

“What should I say?” I ask. What if she puts Mother and me in jail? 

“Be honest. She may have witnesses, but she can not physically prove anything,” Mother says. 

I push my sheets back. I know I am in my PJ’s, and I know I didn’t brush my hair. But at this point I don’t care what she or Sammy thinks of me. 

I go downstairs and Mother follows me. My hand brushes against the railing, for maybe the last time. I open the door, the cool door knob against my hand. 

As Mother said, Queen Snow stands by the door. Two guards are standing next to her with absolutely no expression. 

“Hi Queen Snow,” I say, my hand on the side of the door. 

“What on earth are you wearing? This is infuriating! You have no respect for your elders!” Queen Snow shouts.

 I glance behind me and I see Mother smiling at me. “Sorry” I say. I’m pretty sure we both know that I’m not really sorry.

“Whatever, Ella. I came to complain about the absence of my maids and workers!” Queen Snow yells. 

“Don’t call them that!” I shout. Then I take a breath. “Do you have a guess why they didn’t show up?” I ask. 

Queen Snow rolls her eyes. “Oh, Sure!” she says. One of her guards holds up one of the posters that Mother printed. “Because they don’t deserve to be treated like this or whatever,” she grumbles. I smile as I see her blush a bit. 

“Yeah, exactly. So we will not even acknowledge your presence until you change the rules,” I say. I put on one of my ‘I told you I would win’ smiles that I have been practicing in my mirror.

I can’t tell what Queen Snow’s look is. Somewhat disgusted. 

“Well..” Queen Snow starts to say, but her voice trails off.

“So, Goodbye Queen Snow,” I say, and slowly shut the door.

“Wait! No! Guards, Do something! A– what? No! No!” I hear Queen Snow shout.

I look at Mother straight into her eyes. 

“Wanna make some celebration cupcakes?” Mother asks. I nod. I am proud, happy and scared. Queen Snow still has a lot of power. She can use her power. But for now it will be ok.

Chapter 7

THE FAIRYTALE NEWSPAPER.

Queen Snow has lost power to a 10 year old girl named Ella. Everybody is shocked and Queen Snow is infuriated! Ella was saying to Queen Snow that the not-famous creatures should not work until Queen Snow changes the rules. People have had parades and stopped working. This is crazy! Queen Snow hasn’t shown herself in public for 3 weeks, and nobody knows what decision she will make. On Saturday there was attempted murder. A whole gang of people tried to break into Queen Snow’s house and murder her! They are in jail now. Nobody knows where that came from, or if Ella started it. The construction workers are very busy: people have hired them to smash Queen Snow’s rooms in their castles. Some people have tried to smash them themselves, and their castles look absolutely ruined. They don’t care. People are worried, though. What if Queen Snow decides not to get rid of the rule? Would everyone who tried to stop her go to jail? If she does get rid of the castle, would people lose their homes to give the money to less rich people? What about all the money they earned? If Queen Snow is not in charge of making the rules, who will be? Is this a bad thing? Some people say that Ella should be the leader, but this is a big problem. Now we will leave you with that question. Thank you for reading  THE FAIRYTALE NEWSPAPER, and goodbye. 

Chapter 8

I am everywhere! In the newspaper, and radio! It’s crazy and in some way I love it! But I also really am annoyed, because sometimes the newspaper talks total trash about me! Mother is very proud, though. Some people also think I should take Queen Snow’s place. Honestly I would be ok with that. But I don’t want this whole thing to start over again. And that would be even worse, because I would be the new Queen Snow! Except Queen Ella. Right now I am sitting in the living room, reading the newspaper and eating cookies. I flip the page and Mother walks into the room. 

“Queen Snow has decided to have a ball at her palace, and at the end she will make her decision,” Mother says.

 I have been waiting for this news for 3 whole weeks! I am kind of done with this. “That’s awesome!” I say, though. It is pretty good. But why a ball? What is she planning? “When is it happening?” I ask. 

“Now. Well, Tonight,” Mother says. 

I almost choke on a cookie. “So soon?!” I yell. Mother nods. I have so many thoughts I don’t know what to think. “Do I need to go?” I ask, and I know it is a horrible question.

“Um.. Yes! Duh, Ella! She is announcing the most important thing in your life!” Mother cries. 

“Ok,” I say. Why am I not excited? 

Mother frowns and sits down next to me. “Are you ok, Ella?” she asks. I burst into tears. “Why are you crying?” Mother asks. I don’t know. Why am I crying? 

“I don’t want to become queen.” I say. 

She stares at me for a minute. “Ok. That’s Fine.” Mother says.

“Who will be in charge, then?” I shout.

“ I will.” Mother says. 

I start laughing. And laughing. And laughing. My stomach hurts. “You can’t be Queen!” I say. 

“Why can’t I be Queen?” Mother asks.

 I think for a moment. “You’re too old?” I say. But it comes out more like a question.

“Queen Snow is older than me!” Mother says. 

I think about that. I believe her, but Queen Snow looks great for her age.

“Let’s go to the store to buy some dresses.” Mother says. 

Chapter 9

My mother and I are walking to the ball.  We don’t care if we get our dresses dirty, and nobody would stop a carriage for us. 

I break the silence. “What do you think she will pick?” I ask. 

“Well, it’s no use being famous if nobody likes you and you have no maids,”  Mother says. 

I nodded, but she hasn’t answered my question. I am worried now. Really, really worried. We see a crowd of people coming to the castle. Monsters, Orges, humans. I think I see a sheep! I get inside and inhale. I try not to seem amazed, but this is even better than Queen Sleeping Beauty’s place. A bunch of candles are hanging from a rich purple ceiling. There are a bunch of soft and cushiony chairs on the ground. The ball room is tremendous! Gigantic! 

Queen Snow stands on the stage. Seeing her gives me the chills. Everybody sits down. Queen Snow puts on a totally fake smile.

 “Hi everybody!” Queen Snow shouts. 

Nobody says anything, but I hear some disappointed muttering. 

 “Great. Yup. I get it. I have made a decision. This is one of my biggest decisions. And honestly, I am not so satisfied with my choice. But… Please bow down to Queen Ella.” 

My heart beats fast. Mother nudges me.

“Go up there. Show them you are brave.” Mother whispers in my ear. 

I get up and walk down the aisle. Creatures howl and cheer. Queen Snow smiles. I step up the stairs. Queen Snow goes down the stairs, and when she passes me she whispers:“See what it is like, Ella.” 

I ignore her. I squeeze my long pink dress. 

“Thank you, everybody.” I say. I don’t know what to say. Do I want to give this big opportunity to my mom? There is a big pause. “Ahem. Sorry. I actually have some disappointing news.” I said. People whispered some more. “I don’t actually want to be queen very much. So I want to give this place to my mom.” I say. I see tears glistening in her eyes and she gets up. She walks down the aisle and gets on the stage. I hug her, and then awkwardly get off the stage. 

“Thank you, Ella. I look forward to seeing the awesome progress we will have together. You do not need to give away anything, and I will not make you or force you to do anything.” 

I look over at Que- I mean just Snow. She is scowling. This is okay. Everything went okay. 

Chapter 1

“OWW! Why did you slap me! I despise you Lihn!” 

“You slapped yourself and you know it Amy!” Well, meet my psychotic sister! When my little sister was born, I wasn’t jealous. I didn’t try to demand attention. I just helped my parents set up her nursery. I fed her and changed her diaper and took care of her while my parents were at work. She was the most talkative toddler I had ever met and used large words for her age . . . especially when we were alone. I was fourteen by the time she was two and my parents were starting to worry about her. I overheard them talking about her and from what I heard they were concerned why she didn’t talk yet.

 “Mom! Umm sorry for interrupting. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but when you guys are at work she talks a lot . . . she started talking last year and she uses surprisingly big words for her age!” I said in the most gentle way possible. 

My parents exchanged a look and ran to my sister with huge smiles on their faces. “Amy! Lihn says you can talk, can you say ‘mama’?” my mother asked. 

“Moomoo?” My sister asked. 

“Lihn why did you lie to us! I can’t believe you!” My father said with a look of disappointment spreading across his face.

 “I- I’m sorry I thought . . . nevermind ” I said. I didn’t sleep that night, Am I going insane? Is Amy going insane? Are my parents going insane? Is this all a dream? Do I need a therapist? Is my sister a psychotic maniac? DO I EVEN WANT TO KNOW!??!

Nope! I don’t need to know. That lasted about a month…

One night I woke up to get a glass of water and I heard noises that sounded like metal on rock. I decided to ignore it and ask Dad if he was up late sharpening knives for the butcher shop again, but when I asked he just looked me dead in the eye and said “No! And I thought I told you not to talk about knives in front of your sister.” 

I dropped it and decided I was just hearing things, but when I went up to take a shower before dinner, and my sister was sitting on my bed with my dad’s lucky butcher knife (the extra sharp one) in her hand, it was freshly sharpened. 

“Hello. Pitiful sister, I would like to welcome you graciously into my Grimm Getaway or as you like to call it the void! So just let me slit your throat ,and we will be on our way. Those imbeciles you call Mom and Dad will join you soon, and you can sit down for tea. My demons will serve you,” Amy said in the most annoyingly cheerful voice I have ever heard. 

When I didn’t respond she simply said, “I’ll let you gather your things.” She cut a deep cut in her thumb, smeared it on the door and disappeared.

 I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and ran to clean my door. That night I didn’t sleep. I just squeezed my stuffed giraffe wearing the Hawaiian shirt that I couldn’t sleep without and told myself it was all just a dream, it was all just a dream. I was starting to convince myself when I heard more sharpening noises, and it took all of my willpower not to hide on the inside of my window seat. Eventually I gave in. I brought a blanket, a pillow and my giraffe, Wynn, into the window seat and slept in there. It was cramped but I decided I would take a cramped space over my sister with a knife anyday. 

Chapter 2

When I woke up the next morning, I went downstairs and couldn’t believe my eyes. There were red drops and splatters leading up to the kitchen. I was terrified of what my sister had done, but I decided I needed to see for myself. MY SISTER WAS EATING SPAGHETTI-OS IN THE KITCHEN!!! My sister was making a huge mess with the spaghetti-os, and my mom was sitting there watching! 

“What is going on? Why is Amy eating spaghetti-os at 8:03 AM?” I asked. 

“She crawled into my room with a can of spaghetti-os, and I said, ‘why not?” my mother replied. 

“Umm because it is way too early in the morning to be eating spaghetti-os,” I said. My mom just stared at me and shrugged. I went back upstairs, after 367 seconds of silence in the kitchen I couldn’t take it anymore (yes I counted). When I went upstairs I took a shower and got ready for the day. 

One month later, I went up to my room to grab something, and my sister was sitting on my bed with the sharpest butcher knife in the house. Freshly. Sharpened.  

“Hello, sister! I gave you 37 days to pack. I hope you’re ready,” my sister said.

She just stared at me waiting.

 I ran downstairs. I heard my sister say something but it was drowned out by my pumping heart. I couldn’t breathe by the time I got to the backyard and locked the door. I collapsed on the floor, and everything went black.  

I woke up in the living room with the fan blowing on me and my mother sitting there staring at me. 

“You’re awake! What happened!?” my mother asked. 

“Where is Amy? What happened?” I asked. 

“Oh honey. It’s good to see you’re worried about your sister, but she was crying in your room when we went looking for you. You fainted and were out for 42 minutes and 53 seconds. I was counting.” I looked at my mother for so long I didn’t know what to say at that point. My mom just sat there for another minute and then walked away. I heard noises in the kitchen and just assumed she was cooking something. 

About an hour later, she came into the living room with a tray. On the tray was chilly with melted cheese and sour cream, a ceasar salad and some assorted cookies. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until my mom plopped it on my lap and said, “Eat up. You didn’t even have breakfast today!” 

That night, I stayed up way too late and decided to take my sister and myself to see if we were hallucinating. I felt strange in that sitting room with a 2 year old. Not to mention I’m only 14.

 I decided to only take my sister for an appointment, since she was talking about demons serving tea. They wouldn’t let me go in with her so I just waited hoping this would all be a misunderstanding. 

“Your sister does see many hallucinations but she is an interesting case. She uses large words for her age and is very smart. But anyway, she is very interesting because some of her hallucinations are based on real events. You will have to investigate that but…good luck,” the doctor informed me. 

Chapter 3

I spent all night trying to figure out what the doctor meant. When I went through my memories my brain stuck on one thing. She called it her Grimm Getaway or the Void. I remembered that one night her babysitter took her for a walk in the woods. The next morning, she told me she saw an abandoned house with a sign that said, “My name is Rachel Grimm and this is my getaway. If you have any demons, I will get rid of them if you sit down for tea in my void room!” I remember telling her how stupid that sounded, but maybe this is what the doctor meant by the hallucinations being based on real events. By then I was definitely spooked. So I decided I will forever sleep in the window seat…well at least until I figured this out. 

When I woke up the next morning I decided to take my sister to the abandoned house and see what’s going on.

 On the walk through the woods to find the house I asked who Rachel Grimm was. “She is my master. She created my Grimm Getaway. She commands the Demons…” My 2 year old sister is starting to seriously scare me. Her master? Seriously? 2 months to go and she will still only be 3!

 I asked her what her Grimm Getaway was and all she said was, “Your microscopic brain can’t even begin to imagine the wonderful things it contains, so let me make this easy for you. It is a big black luxurious abode in the deep dark void. All I need to get in is some of my blood, but for someone as pathetically normal as you, we will need blood from the neck!” AND I THOUGHT I WAS CONCERNED BEFORE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY SISTER!? The house was farther than I thought, and my phone battery was decreasing rapidly, not that I had service out there anyway.

And for some reason it smelled like rotting tangerines. 

After about twenty more minutes, we found the house.

It was old and definitely abandoned. It was kind of grayish purple, and there were so many splotches of peeled paint on the house it almost looked like polka dots. 

I tried to find the sign but instead I found an address,  

143 Raven Road

U.S  Massachusetts 

6663

“Do you think this is the new address of the person who lived here?” I asked my sister. 

“Yes.” 

Now I just have to find this address…Good thing I live in Massachusetts!

When I got home, I immediately asked my mom where Raven road is, “Oh! I can take you there, but first I need to know why.”  

“Umm…on our walk I saw a package that was addressed to ‘143 Raven Road’. And Amy wants to come too. She said her friend lives on Raven Road, and she wants to visit,” I lied. My mom agreed and said she would take us, but she had a dentist appointment, so I would have to take us home. 

My sister and I got out of the car the next day to knock on the door of the person who may or may not have corrupted my sister. This new house didn’t look much better than the old one, but instead of purplish gray paint it was bright green paint with what looked like pitch black paint underneath where the green was peeling. It smelled like artificial bananas and was sickeningly sweet.  

I went up to the house and rapped on the door 3 times. 

Chapter 4

The wood was old and frayed. I made a mental note to check for splinters later. I heard a grunt coming from inside the house, and the part of my brain that associates old, decrepit houses with ugly, old, witch- looking ladies was very surprised when I saw an eye so beautifully hazel it almost looked golden peeking through the peephole. 

“Oh, she is one of my little victims down there. She is the youngest victim, and the only one still alive…Well come in, come in.” The woman said walking towards a table showing off her gorgeous auburn ringlets. She looked kind of old school with her red corseted gown. It did look like she hadn’t changed or showered or anything hygienic in the past 50 years (and smelled like it too), but somehow she was still breathtakingly beautiful. Her house was as cluttered as the littered streets on the way here.

 I decided I should just jump right in. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER?” I screamed. 

“Awwww. Is that the only reason you visited? Why don’t you sit down for tea?” the woman said. 

Her face started twisting and stretching in ways that couldn’t be normal. Her beautiful eyes slowly melted into her face and left behind empty sockets. Her skin slowly started turning purple and melting into a contorted body. The only thing that stayed the same was her hair. Even her dress was melting. The only thing left of her after another minute of horrifying melting was her corset, her mouth, and her hair. Her mouth was dripping with blood and when she opened it her tongue was wrapped around an ax that was slowly coming out of her mouth. Her tongue was very long. The ax was a very large ax and her tongue was wrapped all the way around it. Her corset wasn’t naturally red. It was bloodstained and slowly melting away with her hand. Her hair was the only thing left normal. The tips were drenched in blood and with auburn the hair, it looked a lot like fire.  Her mouth still had an ax in it, but somehow still had great control. 

She went over to my sister and her hair went on top of my sisters like a perfectly fitted wig. My sister started mouthing words I couldn’t understand, so fast I couldn’t even try to lipread them. My sister went into the other room. When I followed her in, I saw at least 53 mannequins. My sister went over and cut the head off one of the mannequins. Then the woman (or what was left of her at least) went over to the freshly decapitated mannequin and placed herself over the nonexistent head and immediately the mannequin started to transform into the same woman that answered the door. Only, her dress was white. There was blood coming from her mouth, even with the ax gone, and it was staining the dress and making it the same blood red color as her dress was before. Soon the whole dress was transformed to blood red. 

Chapter 5

“Everytime I do this to one of my victims, it knocks them out for a few hours. Now she won’t hear what she is a victim of!” the creepy lady said. I guess I should be calling her Rachel. I mean it is her name.

 “So…your name is Rachel?” 

“Yes,” Rachel said. 

“Rachel, what is going on with my sister?” I asked.

“Ugh I guess this is the part where you pretend to be a hero and I have to give up my master plan because I think I can kill you so you won’t ruin it, then you ruin my plan and get everyone away safely. So the authorities can deal with me?” Rachel asked, sounding almost as bored as she looked. 

I nodded hoping I would get the easy win. I always hated the stupid heroes in the story who risk their lives for other people. Yeah, I’m not cut out for that kind of thing. “Yes, very well then. It was a dark and stormy night-.” 

“I don’t need your backstory, just tell me what you did to my sister!” 

“Fine jeez I thought that was how this works. I tell you the whole long story, you get caught in one sentence, and then you figure out how to thwart me!” I rolled my eyes.

“Basically I’m possessing a bunch of kids to kill as many people as possible. Your sister here is the youngest, and she is failing her job. She only killed one person, and he wasn’t even on the list. Oh, and if you’re wondering why she’s so bright for her age, I only choose kids like that because they can be more scary whilst holding a knife. So there you have it! I’m gonna let your sister go anyway because I was already planning to, but just so you know I don’t have a reason for killing everyone. Yes I knew you were going to ask that. I just want to-.” 

OK, THIS LADY IS MESSED UP! I should just grab my sister and run shouldn’t I? Or do I kill this lady? Or do I get the authorities the address so they can kill this lady? Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ll get the authorities.

So…yeah I grabbed my sister, and I ran for my life!

But then I was lost, so I called my mom. She was at a restaurant, and I was a bit concerned she might be cheating on my dad. But I was gonna figure that out later. (A story for another time.) My mom said she would ask my dad to come get us. (When I asked who she was with, she just said it wasn’t my business.) When she hung up, my brain seemed to catch up with the situation and decided that that creepy lady could be following me. So I ran, and ran, and ran. 

And then I realized that my dad didn’t know where I was. So I called him, with the little battery I had left and told him where we were. I sat down to see if I could wake up my sister. I remembered I had a backpack with me, I brought two water bottles and a flashlight just in case, (But not a map? How dumb am I?) I poured some water on a random pack of tissues on the road. Yes I know it’s unsanitary, but that was a dire situation. I slapped my sister to see if that would wake her up, it didn’t but to be perfectly honest . . . she deserved a slap in the face. Although . . . she didn’t do it on purpose. I rubbed the wet tissue over her face to try and wake her up. It worked! 

“Hey, Lihn . . . Wh-wh-what happened. Are you okay?” She sounded so innocent I just had to know, “Do you remember a creepy lady named Rachel Grimm?” I asked. 

“No. Why?” Amy asked.

 “No reason!” I replied, trying to make the most genuine smile possible. I decided I wasn’t going to question why or how she forgot everything. I was just happy to have my sister back!

Epilogue

My dad picked us up and drove us home after that. When we got home Amy started talking around my parents. She has never done anything creepy since that day. I have never had to sleep in the window seat ever again (except when the neighbors are shooting fireworks). 

So, remember when I said my mom might be cheating on my dad? Well, she was. My parents got divorced. My dad is dating a woman named Emily, and my mom got married to the same guy she was in the restaurant with that day. His name is David. 

My sister is in 2nd grade, and I am in high school. Yes, I do still sleep with my stuffed giraffe, Wynn, and now he has a bucket hat AND a Hawaiian shirt, thanks to my sister.

I also now have a half-brother on my mom’s side named Dexter, and I still haven’t met him because my mom moved to California! I saw him when I was Facetime with my mom but never in person. I am going to meet him next month. I can’t wait! I am going to visit my aunt as well (she also lives in california). I can’t wait to see everyone! I never told Amy about her being possessed because I don’t want to bring it back. 

I watch Amy’s brown hair glint in the golden sun as she goes to greet her friends. 

“Dad! You Invited Charlotte AND Elizabeth!! They are so loud!!!” 

“Lihn, that’s no way to talk about your sister’s friends!” 

“Whatever.” 

So, as you can see, things are pretty normal. At least for our family. 

Sometimes even after all these years I still wonder how the world can be so peaceful, and yet, life is so scary…

The reporters tried to swim but it was like their feet were bolted to the floor. Minutes later the city came back up with nothing on it. Not even the dead bodies. All the buildings and statues appeared exactly the same. I stepped on it and the dead bodies appeared for only me to see. 

“Do you see that?” I asked Carrot. 

“See what?” He said. 

“The dead bodies. They’re there again,” I said. 

“No, they’re not,” Carrot said, frustrated. 

I took one more step. “Now they’re back,” he said. 

I started to walk in the city, hoping I would not end up like the reporters. I didn’t. Soon the statue came to life. It told us that we were the chosen ones that were meant to save Atlantis from the spirits of the people who had died there. So Carrot and Topher geared up so they could touch the ghosts and defeat them. The first ghost they found was Topher’s mom. Topher started to cry. Then Topher hugged his mom and she became a dog again. 

Then the statue came over and said: “I forgot to tell you that if you hug your loved ones, they come to life again.” 

“Little late,” I said.