Adapting to Life

The autumn leaves are twirling in the air from nearby trees. I walk to a bench with a book tucked under my arm. The breeze swirls in the air, blending in with the laughter of children. On the bench, I observe everything around me. Children are playing tag, adults are supervising, and there is the smell of coffee from the teacher’s lounge.

I set my book on my lap. The cover has images of foxes chasing after each other, insects hanging to leaves, monkeys and exotic animals staring back at me. In the center of the cover, it says: On The Origin Of Species in big, blocky letters. Underneath it says: by Charles Darwin, adapted by Rebecca Steffof. Flipping through the pages, I reach my favorite one. The one with Darwin’s thoughts on survival of the fittest.

My mom borrowed it from the library because of my interest in science. I continued reading it because of my thirst for knowledge. Even though it wasn’t a school assignment, I used my spare recess time to reach the end of it. I wanted to know how everything started, who Charles Darwin was, and what he had to say in this book. Before I even started reading it, I knew it was a discovery of a hidden want for science.

I’ve never really dug very deep into science, I used to be confused on what my job would be as I grew up. In the end, I narrowed my interests. With new goals, I decided to find out even more about my passions and had my mom borrow any science-related books. However, my school doesn’t teach many science lessons or explain the math or people behind these ideas. As a result, I haven’t figured out what field of science I would like to study. There are many topics that I need to be introduced to.

It made me feel more knowledgeable to learn more about past scientists and their theories. It showed me that many things have adapted to new things, just like me. I adapted to my new interest in science. My passions were like species, just as Darwin said, survival of the fittest. There was only that much space for life on Earth. Either they went extinct, were endangered, or brought new strategies to their lives. Piano, in my world for passions, was an extinct species, replaced by a better descendant, drumming. Science was a new species that had been unearthed. Shading was a species merely surviving. Just like mammals during the Triassic period. It taught me that our own lives held fields of competition whether visible or not, humans were always adapting.

I have learned that the world around us is constantly changing. It may take a long time to realize, but we’ll still recognize it at some point. We can start by noticing how we change, on the outside and on the inside. Then, like Charles Darwin, we look to the world, animals, and others. Survival of the fittest has appeared many times in history, from cells to dinosaurs to humans. We are always adapting.


Hello, my name is Twix. I would like it if you would give me a belly rub because I have been a very good boy! Still no?! How rude! What if I give you a kiss and a hug and you give me a belly rub? Ugh! How about five kisses and three hugs, and in favor, I would like a belly rub, and that’s all. You are so rude! I am calling Mom over. See what she has to say about your behavior.

Hello, my name is Lavender. I like to stay in my garden of lavender because I hate mosquitos. They are the most annoying, pesky bugs in the universe! They buzz by your ear, and when you try to eat them, they fly away. Again, they are so annoying!! If I had one wish that could come true, I would like for all mosquitos to become extinct. Hmmmmmm, but I want a lifetime supply of treats. What to do??? Help!!

Hey, it’s your pal, Rusty. Back in my days I used to love romping around with my sister, Piper. But now these days I just want to stay at home and sleep all day. Did you get that, Mom? Hey, I do have a job. I guard the house, so nobody breaks in!!! Sorry, reader, may I have a moment with my mother?! You are so dead, Mom, and you yell at me when I bark at another dog. Well, you are getting a piece of your own mind. (Sorry, Piper, that you didn’t get any credit.)

Hello, my name is Twilight. I like being in the spotlight because my parents are William Shakespaw and Sophia Vergrra. They always tell me to be on my best behavior because when I am in the spotlight I go crazy. I really just want to be a singer and an actress. I was going for more of an opera singer and a comedy performer, but I don’t see those two jobs being a very good mix. So, I need a bit of help. Both, opera singing, or comedy performing? Or maybe I can do each of them for a third of the year?!

Hello, my name is Forest. I am kind of stuck… as you can see. I would love it if you could help me with this… human! Well, they are on their way. I have been in this light tangle situation for about two hours. Well, one hour and 59 minutes. Still the same! Okay, let me tell you what happened. I was playing with my buddies, Hunter and Ace. And we were playing hide-and-go-seek, but it didn’t go as planned. I got stuck. I am not very surprised they didn’t help me. That time that they got chased by a bear and almost fell off of a cliff was pretty funny!! And the other time they got close to a horse, and it bucked.

Hello! My name is Ace. You may know me as Forest’s friend. Yes, he got stuck. Hunter and I didn’t help Forest because he had let us get bucked by a horse, and we nearly fell off a cliff! That was so scary, and when I got back, I got this piece of refreshing watermelon! It tastes so good!!! I am in heaven!!! I really want some more watermelon. If you were going to give me a surprise, I would love some watermelon.

What’s up! I am Hunter, and I really don’t know what to do. I am stuck modeling for a dog company that sells dog clothes, and since I am used to wearing clothes I feel very naked. I am only doing this and smiling because I want some treats here! Come on, you can’t blame a dog for wanting something to eat! I will succeed and model for a dog company, naked! Sorry I have to say this, dog company, but… I quit. I don’t want to model naked!! In fact, I don’t think anyone wants to model naked, so I quit!!!

Hey! It’s Hazel, Hunter’s sister, and Piper is my best friend, but I can’t find her right know… I am looking for her, and in Tahoe it is so cold, and I just want to go to sleep. No, I will keep on finding her, and we will dogopoly like she promised. We live in Australia, so it has definitely not been a long couple of days until getting up here! I really don’t know where she is! What if I try calling her on my woofy-phone?

“Hello, Piper, I have been looking for you! I looked all around the house looking for you, and you weren’t there, so now I am in Tahoe looking for you, and I am very frustrated with you. Why didn’t you tell me that you were under your parents bed! Ugh, Piper, you are in very big trouble, Piper! I am coming back right now!”

So, you probably already heard what is happening. And I have some bad news… I used up all of my money on food. Now that is a big problem!

Hi, my name is Poppy. Quick question, do you want to try and find my bone? I hid my bone for this game, so you better say yes!! Yes? Yay! Okay. Ready, set, go. Wow, Mom’s doing better than Dad and sissy! Go, Mom! Oh no, Dad’s ahead. Oh no, sissy gives up and doesn’t want to do it anymore. Only Mom and Dad are in. Oh, they don’t want to do it anymore, so there is another problem… I forgot where the bone is. No!!!

One eternity later…

As you can see, I just had a mental breakdown. I wish that I could have found that bone, but it now is long gone. I need a bit of personal space.

We are all from the SF Bay organization. We were all named after something that means a lot to us or something that we really like.

Twix likes to follow his parent around when he eats Twix.

Lavender loves the smell of lavender.

Rusty likes to help his dad with his metalshop business.

Twilight likes to be in the spotlight, and she is known for always having a twinkle in her eyes.

Forest likes to romp around in the forest with his friends.

Ace likes to watch his family play card games. His favorite card is the Ace of Spades.

Hunter likes to chase rabbits.

Hazel likes to snack on hazelnuts when she is bored.

Poppy likes to steal poppyseed goods.

Beauty at Its Finest

Content Warning: Depression, Suicide, Eating disorders

Author’s Note: Not based on a true story.

I’m Isla. Since I was a child, I have always aspired to be a model. I saw them on TV, and they were my role models, like Beige Inc. and CL Beauty models. The models there, they were beautiful, happy, and rich! I longed to be those things. I remember wearing my mom’s clothes, putting on her makeup and high heels, and doing my greatest catwalk in front of her. I loved pretending to be a model. I loved doing it because I was happy. But I never thought the fashion world would be like this. Hello, I’m Isla Middleton, and this is my story.

I started working at 11 as a small-time actress. At the time, all I wanted to do was get famous through modeling or show biz, and at this age I was starting to put my dream into motion. I started acting in movies as small roles, but worked hard on those roles. When I was on set acting, an actress by the name of Olive Flores watched me and supported me. When I was done with my scene, she said good job to me and referred me to some people she knew. She also winked at me.

After Olive did that, I started getting more roles and started getting more and more popular. Even though I was burnt out from working a lot, I was happy and proud.

Then I got a lead role in a movie (when I was 14), and that changed everything for me. When I learned I got the part, I was smiling ear to ear. I was beaming with glee since I got a lead part! When I got home from work, I told my mom what happened. (She raised me by herself. She was a single mom.)

“Hey, Mom,” I said.

“Yeah?” My mom asked smugly, already knowing the situation (my grin gave it away).

“I just got a lead role in the movie, Guardian of the Lilac!”

”I’m so proud of you, honey! I knew I raised you well.”

When she said, that we both laughed, then hugged.

After that movie, I got more roles, and then I got asked to do an ad with CL Beauty when I was 17. When I learned I could actually become a model, I was so happy. After that ad, I exclusively did modeling. That was my dream anyways. I starred in more ads until… I got invited to walk on the catwalk! I was 19 and one of the youngest to ever walk across on the catwalk. It was what I had always wanted to do. I’d finally achieved my goal.

When I got there, we were on a strict routine. Wake up, eat food, get dressed, go to the gym, go back home, shower, get ready for practice and fitting, go to practice and fitting, then go home, put on face masks, sleep. Sometimes we got manicures and pedicures. At the practice we were all yelled at. This wasn’t fun. This wasn’t what I had thought it would be like. It wasn’t like the ads. They were fat shaming us, saying that we were not the best, saying that our stomachs weren’t flat enough, saying that the only way to fix your “pretty” face is to get plastic surgery, saying that you aren’t perfect, that you aren’t enough.

My heart shattered into pieces, I thought, Is this the actual modeling world? Is this what I want? I didn’t know what to do. I loved modeling, but did I want to endure this torture? No, I didn’t want to be called worthless and ugly, but this was my dream. So I stayed. Probably the worst decision I have ever made. At times the insults got so bad I wanted to give up on my dream. I wanted to die. But I still stayed, because it’s my dream and I didn’t want to give it up, even if my emotional health was low and damaged. I just can’t believe my young self made such a mistake.

One day when I was in my studio apartment, I was admiring it before I went to bed (yep, that’s me). My studio room is small and homey. I installed heaters and air conditioning, so I could be comfortable.

I have a small twin bed with white sheets and a pastel pink blanket. There’s a small desk near my bed that’s a pastel blue color with two drawers. Inside the drawers are books. I love reading in my spare time, but I rarely have free time. On top of the desk is a pastel yellow lamp dimly, softly illuminating the entire room, making the room feel… nice. I have an icy purple furry rug. It’s super soft.

The walls have a white background with limes on it. The floor was wood, but the bathroom was tiles, and the kitchen was marble.

My kitchen was normal. Oven, stove, sink, fridge, and a microwave on top of the stove. Inside my bathroom is a bath and shower, a sink, a toilet, and a vanity full of makeup. The mirror on the vanity has lights. Inside the vanity drawers was a lot of makeup. On the desk of the vanity were curling irons and straightening irons. I have a little table with shaving cream, a razor, hair oil, body lotion, hand lotion, face lotion, leave-in conditioner, spray shampoo, and sunscreen (I don’t use spray tan, I think I’m bronze enough).

During the night I couldn’t sleep, I thought it was because I was looking at my phone, so I put it down. A few hours later, I still couldn’t sleep. I was really confused. I tried everything, but I couldn’t sleep. Then I started to think about my future. I thought if I was going to be treated like nothing for the rest of my modeling career, if I was going to be told to do stuff like a slave. I just didn’t know what to do. Then I was thinking some pretty dark thoughts. I was thinking of what I would do if my mom died. At that point I thought I would kill myself to be with her. I wasn’t in the right state of mind. At around two in the morning, I finally fell asleep.

A week after the sleeping incident, I was getting worse. I felt like pain was the only thing I had. I felt like I didn’t need a therapist. I thought they would try to make me not “myself.” I needed to be this terrible version of myself to feel free. I was happy I felt free. It was me and the blood, me and the deep cuts in my arms and wrists, me and the razor blade, me and the over the counter medicine that I popped in my mouth like candy. But in reality, I wasn’t actually free. I was trapped. Trapped in a jail cell, made of pain and self-doubt. My mom noticed I wasn’t talking to her. She started sending me message after message, call after call, trying to ask if I’m okay. I thought she wouldn’t help. She was like the therapist, trying to trap me. I can’t believe I thought that about my own mom. That time was the lowest I’ve felt mentally. I can still feel scars from those cuts. And they still let me model.

About a month later from the sleeping incident, I finally decided to reach out to my mom. She noticed my voice was raspy, that I was tired, that I was sad. She asked what’s wrong, and I broke out sobbing.

In between the sobs I muttered, “I’m not your perfect daughter” and “why do you stay with me?”

I thought my mom didn’t even deserve me. I thought no one deserves me, no one should love me. But I felt free, and that’s why I didn’t stop. My mom wanted to know why I thought this. She wanted to know the root, what caused me to be like this. I didn’t spill. I said it was due to stress, even though that was a complete lie. She believed it. She said I could talk to her any time. I complied.

After that call with my mom, I decided to meet a therapist. The call wasn’t the only reason I went. I went because the modeling agents said, “If you don’t put on your A-game, we will fire you! We will tell everyone you just break at the slightest touch, and you won’t get hired again. So get your head in the game, Miss Snowflake.”

The therapist said that I’ve gotten really bad through the course of a month. He gave me medication and told me to follow the dose. He consoled me, told me everything will be okay. He treated me like I wasn’t nothing, like I wasn’t a slave, but the modeling industry treated me like a slave. They used me for what they needed, they threw me around, then sold me. He helped me a lot.

There were two months before the catwalk, I stopped hurting myself. I wanted to do this catwalk. The two months flew by. I just hung out with the other models and had fun (the therapist told me that socializing was a key part to my recovery).

Then catwalk day came. We got hair stylists, makeup stylists, and outfit stylists pounded on us. We were in Paris. I got an old timey red dress with white polka dots (it looked like it was from the 50’s). I had red heels as well. My hair was in a classic night-out 50’s hair style, and my make-up was also the classic night-out 50’s style. I was beautiful. I was second to walk. I walked gracefully with the catwalk I made up in when I was a toddler, but I added a graceful twirl. Everyone clapped and cheered at all of us. I was beaming with fake glee, my grin was ear to ear, just like when I got the offer to walk on the catwalk. But this grin was a bit different. I wasn’t happy.

Want to know why I wasn’t happy? It was because of all the things I endured to show up on the catwalk for a few minutes. It was because I had to seek solace in cuts, blood, and drugs, but “nothing” serious, I just smoked. But after the catwalk I got poked fun at. People said that I was too fat for the catwalk, or they could see my glumness on my face. So it started again, my cycle of cuts, blood, and something new, starving myself. I decided not to do drugs. I still wanted to model. I hated being laughed at for trying my hardest.

I always felt hungry when I starved myself. But when I looked at the scale and the numbers were low, it somehow felt redeeming. But when the numbers are high I barely eat any food for days or weeks at a time.

I stopped talking to my therapist. I tried to distance myself from my mom, but when she did call I lied. I sounded as happy and jolly as I always was. The insults, the laughs, the taunts, it was torture. I decided to go do some more magazine cover photoshoots because you could hide your feelings in the photos. You could hide the cuts in the photos. You could hide it all.

I slowly started becoming a more famous model. I still had the scars, but they didn’t show as much. Then one day, three months after the catwalk, I became Australia’s next big hit. Everybody loved me. They asked about how thin I was, how pretty I was. All the girls wanted to be me. I was happy they loved me, and I decided to talk to my therapist again.

He noticed everything. He gave me some medicine, antidepressants, and told me to go to a clinic for people who are anorexic. I obliged. I wanted to keep my title. I went to a clinic. I took the medicine. I did everything to keep my title. Even though I still have depression to this day, I’m not anorexic anymore. That clinic probably saved my life. You had to finish all your food and drink or else you would get in trouble. It wasn’t fun, but if I didn’t do that I probably would’ve died.

I was happy. I was famous. I was an actress and model. All I wanted to be. I became friends with a lot of famous people, I was on the red carpet winning awards, everything I dreamed of doing. I even became best friends with Olive Flores, the girl who started my career. She’s also young, three years older than me. She’s like the older sister I’ve never had. On our days off, we hung out. We went to my house, I went to her house, we watched movie premieres, we got food at restaurants, we got ice cream and boba together, we did everything teenage girls did. I was 17 at the time, and she was 20. She said on her 21st birthday she would sneak me into a bar, so we could hang out. I loved her. I told her everything, and in return she told me about her own experiences and she gave me guidance. But she never told me she had the want to die.

On her 21st birthday she really did sneak me in a bar with her other friends. We were talking, and I was the only one who stayed sober. Everyone else was drinking. I thought it was funny when they stumbled or said dumb stuff.

Olive told me to have a drink, but then I chuckled and said, “Well then who’s going to drive y’all home?”

Then she understood and laughed. She then said “Fine. But next time you need to try alcohol.”

I said, “Okay, Olive I’ll try it on my 21st birthday, and I’ll invite you too! If you’re still friends with me.”

“Oh silly, I’m obviously always going to be by your side. I love you like a sister, Il. I would never leave you behind.”

“I love you like a sister too, Livy.”

“Oh, stop being so cute, and let’s dance!”

I laughed and said, “Okay, I’ll dance, only if you dance with me.”

She said, “I was obviously going to dance with you. Let’s go!”

I followed. That night was fun. I loved it. We hung out and danced, we laughed and told jokes, and at the end of the night I drove everyone home.

A month after her birthday I tried to call her to ask her if she wanted to hangout on the weekend. It transferred immediately to her classic voicemail, “Hey, it’s Olive! You missed me, probably because I’m busy with work or hanging out with some of my friends! Well, call me back, okay? See you later!” She never liked saying bye. She always said see you later. I was really confused, because Olive always takes my calls, even if she’s working. If she answers me when she’s working, she tells me to call back soon. Or she would text me after hanging up. I know her voicemail because she hasn’t changed it for years. I called her mom. She answered.

I asked, “Hey, Ms. Flores, do you know where Olive is?”

She said in a shocked tone, “I thought she was with you. She hasn’t been home. She hasn’t answered my calls either.”

“Oh no… I hope she’s not hurt. I’m going to file a missing persons report. We need to find her.”

“Thank you so much. You’re like the younger sister Olive never had. If you find her please take care of her and bring her to me, okay?”

“I would never hurt Olive. I promise you I will find her and bring her back home.”

“Okay, goodbye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Ms. Flores.”

I went to my local police station and filed a missing person report for Olive. The last time I saw her, and I think everyone else saw her, was on her 21st birthday. When I dropped her off at home she was wearing a black sparkly party dress that ended at her knees. She was wearing a white fur coat on top of that. She was wearing white stilettos, six inches high. She had black fishnet leggings for pants. She wore a black and white hat with a gray feather. Her hair was down and curled, tight party curls. Her makeup was the normal night out makeup. Without the heels she would be 5’4”. Her hair was black, thick, and long. She’s a brown Latina. Specifically, Central American.

The police found her in a forest one week after I filed the report. She hanged herself on a tree. Her suicide note said, I love you all, but I don’t think this is the right time for me to be on earth. The acting and modeling industry has given me many scars that I don’t want to live with. This industry has pushed me off the edge many times. In my head I have battles between living or dying, between staying or leaving. And I decided to leave. To my best friends, some of the best people in the world, I love you, and please don’t linger on me. Forget about me, please. I want you all to live a good life. Especially you, Isla, you have a bright future. Please don’t be influenced by me. Okay? I love you all, but I need to go now. I love you all. See you all later.

I collapsed when I read that at the police station. I remembered her being all jolly and happy. Now she’s… dead. This isn’t true. She wouldn’t leave me. I was in denial. I became a ball on the floor crying. I was heartbroken. She was the one who guided me through my career. Heck, she even started it. When I finished reading the note I felt like a knife had been stabbed in my heart. Olive’s mom and some of her friends were crying in their seats. They were trying to comfort me too. They knew I was really affected by her passing. I owe everything to her. My mind was in denial, but in my heart, I knew she was dead.

A week after I learned she died, her story was aired on the news. I was still heartbroken, and I couldn’t bare to watch her story on air. So I blocked out all news about her passing. I didn’t want to be reminded again and again of her death.

A month after her passing, I went to her funeral. She promised she would drink with me. I brought a bottle of wine and drank a cup of it. With her near me, but not with me. At her funeral I talked about her. I sang to her. “She was my beacon light in my dark times. She was the best.” I talked about her to cope with her death.

It took me months to recover. When I fully recovered, I realized that the modeling and show biz industry was not for me. I’ve already pretty much gone to hell and back. I didn’t want to die. I couldn’t die. I needed to live for her. So I quit my jobs, and I fell under obscurity again. I still miss her, even to this day, but I’ve cried so many tears for her that I have none left.

I woke up in my bed, covers over me, my head resting on a pillow. I sat up after laying there for a long time, thinking and breathing slowly, something I haven’t done in a long time.

I looked like a mess. My hair was everywhere, and I hadn’t showered or put makeup on yet. I haven’t shaved my legs and mustache in a long time.

I was thinking about Olive. I wasn’t crying. I was thinking happy thoughts about her. I felt at ease. I was thinking that I might be feeling peace, something I haven’t felt in so long, I was finally okay. I was at peace. I was happy.

I saw the sun was rising through the window, one of the most beautiful sunrises I have seen in a while. The mixture of pinks, oranges, yellows, and that little hint of red that mixed together and shining through my window.

I was happy.

I asked, “Was that good?”

Maria said, “Perfect.”

Revenge of the Demon Chicken

Once there was a chicken named Donald Toot. He was very mean because he bullied pigs. One day he was walking when a pig came. His name was Potty Piggy.

Then he said, “Snort snort snort,” and he started throwing Boom Boom Hippos. When they hit him, they went boom boom.

Dun, dun, dun. He died. Then he became the Demon Chicken and took over the world.

The Bored Hero

Once upon a time, there was a knight. This knight’s name was Sir Edmond. Sir Edmond had completed many great deeds of heroism (99 to be exact). His most famous deeds were: The Flaying Of The Most Ferociously Ferocious Ferret and The Defeat Of The Antarctic Abusive Armadillo. Sir Edmond was trying to do one more deed, so he could get to one hundred deeds, so he could get the one hundred deeds medal and become the knight of one hundred deeds. The knight of one hundred deeds was the most important knight in the land.

Sir Edmond went looking for a monster to defeat, but he had defeated all the monsters in existence (except one, which we’ll get back to later)! So he went looking for other deeds to do, but he had done all the deeds there were to do (except one, which we’ll also get back to later). The rule was you can only use one deed once.

When he went to a town and said, “What can I do?” the answer was always, “Nothing.” Sir Edmond was now desperate, so he went to The Place Where Nothing Happens, a town on the border of the Really Bad Forest, where, as you might have guessed, nothing happens.

As he was walking, he saw a magic umbrella for sale, “Magic umbrella! Even protects you from rain when it’s not raining!” The sign advertised, only $99,999,999,999.99! And one cent for shipping, handling, selling, and ripping people off!

That’s a horrible thing that person’s doing, thought Sir Edmond. I’ll stop him and get my hundredth deed!

But when he looked back, the advertisement said, Colorful Umbrellas $1.99, a perfectly reasonable price.

What happened?! thought Sir Edmond. I could swear that was there a second ago!

Suddenly, Sir Edmond heard the sound of someone cackling coming from a nearby alleyway. Sir Edmond turned, and gathering all the courage he could muster, stepped into the dimly lit alleyway. Sir Edmond was surprised at what he saw in the alleyway, for it was nothing he had expected. No evil witch stood there mixing her equally evil potions, nor did a demonic demon with nails as sharp as knives laugh over his evil plan to enslave the universe. Instead it was just a plain old umbrella leaning against a neighboring house. Wait, that was the umbrella from the shop that had disappeared!

“Finally!” Sir Edmond cried. “I can take this umbrella, arrest its owner, and get my hundredth deed! But nobody will believe me. They will think me mad! I need some evidence.”

While Sir Edmond thought about how to get some solid evidence, he heard a shuffle in the bushes.

“You get back here!” shouted Sir Edmond as he saw the umbrella go running off into the Really Bad Forest. Should I not follow the umbrella into the Really Bad Forest and try to get a deed somewhere else? thought Sir Edmond. Or should I follow it into the deep scary Really Bad Forest and possibly, no, probably get myself killed in a horribly painful way?

After a while of deciding and weighing the pros and cons (Sir Edmond was very good at weighing the pros and cons) Sir Edmond decided to chase the umbrella into the Really Bad Forest. As he was doing so, he stumbled upon an old man sitting in the forest with an umbrella.

“Aha!” exclaimed Sir Edmond. “You were the one!”

“Yes, I was!” said the old man in an inhuman voice. Then, the old man turned into an evil demon!!!


We interrupt this book to inform you that this demon was indeed the dreaded Pkeuxblo Demon, the stealer of leftover food on the kitchen counter, and Sir Edmond’s arch-nemesis!!


Just then, with a sudden burst of speed, Sir Edmond stabbed the demon in the upper left eyebrow, which, as Sir Edmond had known from his history of dealing with demons, is their only weak spot! Sir Edmond had killed the Pkeuxblo Demon! Sir Edmond was awarded the one hundred deeds medal and was awarded the title of the knight of one hundred deeds. Now, because of Sir Edmond’s brave deeds (and a little bit of luck), you can sleep in your beds assured that the Pkeuxblo Demon won’t come to your house and steal your precious leftovers.

The End

Pig Island

Last day of school. Woohoo! Okay, let’s move on. My dad told me this morning that when I got home, I should do some research on where we were going to go this summer. So, I looked up best places to go in the summer on my computer, when all of a sudden as I was scrolling down, there were some words that said, best place to go, Pig Island!!! I clicked new tab, searched Pig Island, and there it was: best place to go, Pig Island, and underneath it said 4.5 stars for Pig Island!!! I knew I had to get to Pig Island.

That night, when my parents came home and my sister, Katie, came home from high school, and we were all sitting down, I told them, “I looked up places to go for the summer, and it came up with Pig Island, and we’re going to go there!!!” I let it out all in one breath and breathed heavily afterwards.

“Oh, hun, I love that you are so excited about it, but you know I’m allergic to pigs,” my dad said. “How long will we be there, because you know you have to do Spanish camp for most of the summer too.”

“I’m sorry PaPu, but we can’t,” my mother added. Don’t laugh. That’s my nickname. My real name is Pua.

We have to go. I love pigs, and you did name me Pua because that’s Moana’s pig’s name, right?”

“Yes hunny, but that’s not an excuse.”

Fine,” I said as I stomped upstairs.

“If she leaves, then can I go too?” I heard Katie say after I left.

They gave her a stern look.

The next morning, I sat up in my bed all happy that it was the first day of summer, but worried that I might not be able to go to Pig Island. I hopped out of bed and started pacing around my room, thinking about if I had any good ideas of how I could get there. After five back and forth paces, I finally had a good idea. I thought to myself, Maybe there is a medicine that my dad could take that would make him not allergic to pigs for the day. Then I realized the other problem we had of going there. I had to go to Spanish camp. So now I had to figure out two problems and fast.

I looked over at the clock. It was 6:00. Time for my morning run. I could think about the problems while I was running. I changed my clothes, grabbed my jacket, slipped on my running shoes, grabbed my phone and my earbuds, and raced out the door. I slipped in my earbuds and went into my own secret world like a parallel universe. I ran for half an hour around the neighborhood and looped back to my house where I took a shower and ate breakfast.

My sister came down with her head in her phone and still in her llama pajamas and asked, “How long have you been down here?”

I took another bite of my cinnamon bread and looked up at the clock. It said 7:00. I calculated it in my head. “An hour.”

She put down her phone and answered, “Cool. Have you figured out the two problems?”

Shoot,” I accidently said out loud. I never figured out the problem. Well, that was a waste of time. I looked up at my sister and said, “No, I haven’t figured out the problem. Wait, I have an idea.”

I plopped down my cinnamon bread and ran to my computer. I looked up if there was a cure, and I scrolled down and found a bunch of medicines. One of them was a medicine from a doctor named Dr. Anderson. Boom, out of nowhere it was like a lightbulb went off in my head.

“Sis, get out your computer and see if there are any Spanish camps.”

Okay,” she said as she slowly strolled over to her computer.

She opened it up and did what I told. I looked back at my research and realized that there could actually be a way for me to go to Pig Island. I smiled inside my head.

After 20 minutes, I asked, “Have you found a camp?”

“Yeah, it says it’s a two week camp and will teach you beginner or advanced Spanish.”

“Great, can you see how old you have to be.”


Thirty minutes later…

“Have you figured it out?”

“Yeah, it says that you have to be 8 to 15 years old. That seems great right, because I was going to go take a shower.”

“I need one more thing for you to do.”

Driving to the doctor…

“Thanks again for driving me to the doctor. I looked up a cure for pigs, and it said that there was this doctor who figured out how to cure being allergic to pigs. His name is Dr. Anderson.”

“No problem. Don’t tell Mom and Dad, but I actually want to go to Pig Island.”

“Pull over, we’re here.”

Seeing the doctor…

We step in and see a woman on an office chair looking at her computer.

“Hello?” I ask.

She turns and answers, “What can I do for you?”

“We’re here to get a medicine for allergies to pigs.”

“Great, are you Emily Paterson?”


Thirty minutes later…

“So you need to have one pill every morning and make sure his vitals and blood pressure are normal every night,” she said.

“Great, is that all,” I say.


Getting home…

“Okay, Katie, get back on your computer and sign us up for that Spanish camp,” I said.

“I will work on getting tickets to the Bahamas.”

Ten minutes later…

“So we have a hotel, plane tickets, in a camp, and we’re going to Pig Island.” I started dancing around and doing my happy dance.

A week later…

“Let’s go everybody. Let’s go!

We drove to the airport and hopped on the plane. I was smiling on the whole plane trip there. My mouth still hurts. I even made a song on the way there to sing to the piggies. We landed smoothly, got off the plane, and rode to our hotel. We stayed the night there and got ready to take our boat to Pig Island.

The next morning, I woke up and woke everybody up, and I mean everybody in the hotel accidently, to go to Pig Island. We gave my dad his pills and started to get ready. An hour later, after we got all ready for Pig Island, we jumped onto the boat and sailed to Pig Island.

At Pig Island…

The sailors anchored us in, and we had to take a rowboat to shore. That was the best moment in my life, because there were pigs swimming close to us, but they didn’t let us touch them because they were afraid of the oars. The sailors helped us onto shore and then said that they were going back to the boat and we would be leaving in an hour.

I thought to myself, An hour? That’s not enough time. I want to spend my whole life with these piggies.

They started rowing away, and I was the first person to dive into the water head first. I played with them for so long I felt like I was becoming a pig. They were just so cute, and pink, and swam with me, and even sunbathed on the sand. I even named the pigs Pinky, Cracker, Bunny, Wilbert, Buttercup, Flower, Fluffy, Asparagus, Fuzzball, and Strawberry. The sailors said that we had one more minute, and we had to wrap it up. Oh no. At the last minute, Wilbert jumped on top of me, and he hugged me to death. I loved Pig Island and all the pigs here!!!


The Legendary Monument

When I saw a Legendary village I froze, and watched.

It really was the land of mysterious dragons I wondered…

Then does that mean that Scarlett Bones has been here?

That must have been quite a unique adventure for her.

She must have seen the beautiful horizon of the mountains.

When it started to rain I saw a bright flame.

Then I realized that it was a giant comet soaring.

But I felt a light sprinkle on my head Rain…

The rain eroded the whole cliff and I started falling.

Thank Goodness I was rescued by a beautiful mythical beast.

That Legendary village froze me.

It was the dragons land.

Scarlett’s favorite color is Scarlet.

I saw many mythical creatures.

A comet flew past me.

I looked at the horizon.

I thought, What an adventure.

I went hiking, then fell.

Then it started to rain.

In the distance a flame!

The legendary village.

The dragon’s land.

Scarlett Mary Bones.

Observing mythical creatures.

Comets flying past.

The melting horizon.

“What an adventure.”

Then I fell.

It started raining.

Then seeing flames.


I went grocery shopping, sure that that was a wise decision. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive amount of my homemade chili. Some pretty tasty stuff, but it’s very spicy to the point of it being painful. It comes with a guarantee (from me) that if you eat it, your body will fall apart the next day.

Here’s the thing. I awakened that morning, and even after having two bowls of my homemade chili, nothing happened. Despite the habanero peppers swimming throughout my body, I appeared to be fine. Knowing that a time would come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the market, a local Costco that I often hunt in to find hot dogs and tater tots. I heard from one of my friends that Costco was having a ketchup sale, so I decided to go.

Upon entering the store at first, everything seemed fine. I pulled out a shopping cart and pushed it into the food aisle while dropping every single item on the shelves in not caring what they were. It wasn’t until I was at the total opposite side of the restrooms that the pain hit me like a train. Stop looking at me like you don’t know what I’m referring to. It’s the “oops, I gotta go” pain. But this was different.

The habaneros in the chili from the night before were planning revenge. In a mad rush for freedom, they bullied their way through my intestines. Before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms, they fired a shot. I stood alone in the aisle, eyes wide. I was afraid to move, frightened that the odor might escape to another aisle. I slowly moved up the next aisle just as an elderly woman turned her disgusted face to me. I watched as she walked into an invisible wall of odor losing all her senses. This made me laugh. When you laugh, it’s hard to keep things down. Another explosion came. It was so loud, it echoed down all the aisles. I gasped, fearing that someone would think it was someone firing a gun. I ran down all of the aisles to the nearest restroom.

As I walked out, an employee ran towards me.

“Ah sir, there has been a report of you setting an, um, stink bomb here,” the man said.

People were staring at me, which set me off again. I sprinted towards the exit sign and drove back home.

Home again, I grinned as I took a peek into the refrigerator and realized that there was nothing to eat but a leftover bowl of chili, so I consumed it. The day after that, I made a brave journey to Walmart. I can’t say anymore information about what had happened in Walmart because I am currently in court.

What to Do in a Crowded Elevator


  1. Try to get to the door and escape.
  2. Wish that you took the stairs.
  3. Look at all the buttons and wish you could press them all to make a light show.
  4. Listen to the quietness that makes everything uncomfortable.
  5. Flash a smile at everyone who looks at you.
  6. Count the floors until it’s your floor.
  7. Try not to get super squished.
  8. Listen to the dings as the door constantly opens.
  9. Think about the freedom once you’re out.
  10. Remember to have this list.
  11. Finally, after you get out say to yourself, “Always take the stairs.


Stupendous Sprinkles



“Hee hee hee!” a young man wearing an evil smile and a Stupendous Sprinkles tee shirt with the name tag Jerry laughed evilly.

He grabbed a dirty, gray bucket on the ground with a food dye-covered hand. With the other, he held his nose because it smelled like rotten salmon with vinegar poured onto it that was left out for a week. Jerry yanked it up and sauntered past a glowing, red clock displaying 3:45 a.m. Anyone watching the scene could tell that his coworkers obviously would not be there for a few hours.

He poured the glowing liquid onto the conveyor belt, covering sprinkles in green goo. Jerry slapped the bottom of the bucket to make more of the toxic-looking slime ooze out.

Jerry frantically looked back and forth for a good hiding place. He decided on a musty, old closet with a Staff Only sign on it. At least, it used to say that. Now it said “S af nlv,” the mark of the sixteen years that it had been untouched, until very recently.
Jerry let the light streak into the room for the first time in sixteen years. He didn’t open the door all the way, though, so the sides of the room were still covered in the blanket of darkness. Jerry tucked the bucket under the folds of a dusty apron that left gray trails on his fingers so that his coworkers couldn’t read the side that said “Radioactive!”

Jerry positioned the apron back to how it had been and closed the door quietly. He turned off the lights and the conveyor belt. But he paused before leaving the factory. First, Jerry laughed maniacally.


Chapter One

Don Utshop was the owner of a donut shop. One day, he thought to himself that he should put rainbow sprinkles on his donuts, not just frosting. He had been getting bad reviews for not having sprinkles. People loved sprinkles, so Don decided to go buy some.

Don thought to himself, I’m so lucky! I’m a donut shop owner, and I live right around the corner from a sprinkles shop! Stupendous Sprinkles, here I come!

He grabbed everything he could find to store the sprinkles in. He found a Don Utshop’s Donut Shop tote bag, a Golden State Warriors backpack, and a brown paper Whole Foods bag. He intended to stuff as many sprinkles as he possibly could. “Every single sprinkle matters, right?” he concluded.

As he gathered up all the bags inside the shop, he was brainstorming donut ideas. I’m going to have sprinkles! Think about all the possibilities! So many donut ideas! He smiled.

As he pulled open the brass doorknob, Don’s head was filled with bright colors and flavors. Could he make a donut that was no donut, just sprinkles stuck together? Maybe a plain glazed donut, but covered five inches high in the sprinkles? He almost ran into the street, because he was so excited.


Chapter Two

Don halted so abruptly on the curb that he almost skidded backwards. But he just pivoted on the heel of his left foot and kept going towards Stupendous Sprinkles, like it never happened.

Even if he got hit by a car, Don wouldn’t let business slow. He would bake donuts in the hospital and hire his son, Pean Utshop, to sell them. He would have to make sure that Pean wouldn’t put nuts on all the donuts, though, because some customers were allergic. Pean wouldn’t eat anything besides nuts.

The reason that he wouldn’t let business slow wasn’t because he was a loyal shop owner, though. The reason was because Don really loved donuts. If he closed his store, he wouldn’t get free (maybe not free) donuts.

As he approached the big, pink building, Don got a whiff of sugar. He breathed it in and held it for a moment, delighted with the sprinkly goodness. He had forgotten how delicious they were, for he had not had a single one in sixteen years. That was when he had stopped working at Stupendous Sprinkles. (Dramatic foreshadowing!) (Dun-dun-duuun!!!)


Friday the 13th with the Johnsons

It was a sunny Friday the 13th morning, and the Johnson family’s car pulled into the driveway of their new house, an enormous mansion. Claire Johnson, the youngest of her family, walked into her new home and took the sights in. It was like a dream come true. The Johnsons were moving into their great-grandparents’ house because they had died. There were beautiful designs on the ceiling and stained glass windows everywhere. There were six floors to the house, not counting the attic or basement. Claire was really excited because their grandma was coming to visit them in their new home!

Jackson Johnson (who goes by JJ for short), her older brother who was 13 and into sports and skateboarding, got out of the car along with her older sister, Diana, who was 16 and extremely bratty and the mall was her second home.

Jackson was surprised by the size of their new home. He almost yelled on his way inside, “OH MY GOD! OUR HOUSE IS GIGANTIC!!!”

Diana, on the other hand, was slowly getting out of the car while closely examining her perfectly polished nails. Diana was saying, “I need to get another nail appointment. Also, I need to return 99 out of the 100 shoes I got yesterday morning!”

Mr. Johnson put his hands into his pocket to reach for his wallet and said, “I am only saying yes because I know if I say no, then you will not let me sleep and bug me with your Justin Bieber pop music.”

He then handed her two one-hundred dollar bills and told her to be back at 7:30.

Mrs. Johnson was trying not to yell at Mr. Johnson while she was talking to him in the corner of the kitchen. Even though she was trying to whisper, it sounded more like a half yell. She was saying, “I can’t believe you just gave Diana $200. We really need to start teaching her that she can’t have everything she wants!”

Mr. Johnson wasn’t saying anything and finally just waited until Mrs. Johnson left to go admire the old Victorian mansion that they had inherited. Mrs. Johnson got everyone together in the kitchen and told them who was getting which floor.

She told them, “Claire, you get the sixth floor because we know you would love the view up there. JJ, you get the fifth floor. Diana, you get the fourth floor. And your father and I will take the third floor. We will find out what to do with the two other floors. The second floor will be the guest room, and the lowest floor will be the family room.”

“Does my floor have a spa?” Diana asked.

“Yes, we knew you wouldn’t survive without it,” Mr. Johnson said. “Although, your mother wasn’t hot on the idea.”

“Mommy’s just jealous that I’m perfectly beautiful, and she’s getting all wrinkly and has gray hair,” Diana said, checking her reflection in one of her many mirrors.

Claire went up to her room. She really liked it. She had a personal ice cream maker there. She took out one of the cones and swirled cotton candy ice cream onto it. Claire was about to take her ice cream out of the machine when a bunch of M&M’s sprinkled on top. She didn’t even press the button for them! But she loved M&M’s, so she ate it anyway. When Claire was eating the ice cream, she tasted something a little bitter. But, she decided to ignore it because one of the M&M’s was pink, and she had never tried that before. Claire sat and ate her ice cream in her room, so she didn’t have to share with her siblings. When she finished her ice cream, she sat down and read a book. The book was called A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning.

A few hours later, after Diana had been to the mall, she got into the elevator and looked through the song selection. She was confused when she saw the button that said, “Scary I’m going to kill you music.” She hit the one that said, “Justin Bieber pop music.”

“I have a secret,” said Justin Bieber. “I have been keeping it for a very long time. It’s actually not much of a secret. It’s that I am really, really, really… annoying! Honestly, everyone hates me. I am the worst singer in the history of the world. I will never, ever, ever be famous for being loved. The only thing I will be famous for is being the most hated singer ever. And now, I’m going to go to my bed to cry, because I’m sad because everyone hates me, and also I’m resigning.”

Diana wailed and wailed, “No! Justin! You’re, like, my everything and celebrity crush, and why is my mascara smudged? I just applied it two seconds ago?!”

When she got to her floor, she started making a shrine to send to Justin Bieber to convince him to go into a musical career again.

Claire’s parents were sitting in their giant room. It was 2:50 A.M., and they were waiting for the noises from the other floors to stop.

They heard a faint voice singing, “Blackbox, blackbox, coming to the parents’ room.”

They knew something was wrong. They then remembered that they were sharing a house with Diana and JJ, so they thought it was just Diana complaining about how the spa was terrible… even though it was a high class spa (that cost over a million dollars), and Jackson trying to pull pranks on Diana. Then, they finally heard the faint voices stop. Diana and Jackson had finally shut up.

Mrs. Johnson said to Mr. Johnson, “We haven’t had a moment alone for a very long time. The kids already had dinner. Would you like some pasta?”

“Yes, yes I would,” replied Mr. Johnson.

They were setting up the plates, forks, and knives, while waiting for the pasta to finish boiling. They finally started eating the creamy and dense pasta. Mr. Johnson was looking at his plate. Then, he heard a thud. There was Mrs. Johnson lying on the floor with a knife in her chest. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t move! In two seconds flat, there was a knife in his chest. He saw the cold, dark eyes of a plastic doll leaving the room abruptly.


“Ahhh, this is so relaxing!” Diana said, as she soaked in her hot tub at 3:01 A.M..

Just then, she heard a noise that sang, “Blackbox, blackbox, coming to the spaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

“Stop it, Jackson!” she said, annoyed. Jackson was always playing pranks on her. She turned on the jacuzzi. The noise came closer and closer, and suddenly she felt a hand that felt like… plastic? The hand forced her head underwater, and she couldn’t breathe. She thought that if she would die, she should die hugging diamonds. So, she clung onto her jewel studded bathing suit with the words, “Diana Johnson,” written on it with diamonds. Eventually, she couldn’t hold her breath anymore, and at 3:02 A.M., she was at the bottom of the hot tub, hugging her bathing suit, dead.


It was late at night or early in the morning, and JJ was up playing his favorite video game on his personal 70-inch TV. JJ loved his new house. Anyway, the game JJ was playing was called Call of Duty. He was on the last level, and he was about to beat the game when his friend texted him. The text said, “Dude I just beat Fortnite!!” JJ was so pissed off because he was trying to beat his friend at beating the game. He kept playing because he still had other friends to beat! Suddenly, the clock chimed 3:00 A.M..

Jackson heard someone singing, “Blackbox, blackbox, coming to the gaming room.”

Jackson said to himself,Oh, whatever, I’m probably dreaming.”

JJ was so close to beating the game, but he was super drowsy, and the clock said that it was 3:02.

Suddenly, a doll appeared with a gun in its hand on the screen, and JJ laughed. “Are you gonna kill me little baby?” he said, mockingly.

Suddenly, the doll stared at him. “I do intend to kill you, Jackson,” whispered the doll. Then, a bullet was shot, and the last thing JJ heard was a boom, and then everything went black.


Claire woke up in the middle of the night. She rolled over in her bed, very uncomfortable and feeling nauseous. She decided that a breath of fresh air would help. She slowly got up and walked downstairs to open the front door. She put on her jacket and stepped outside and took a deep breath.

Claire had taken a nice, long walk. When she decided to head back home, she saw a black cat. It was so cute that Claire could not resist petting it. Claire decided to go back to the house because she felt very uneasy. She felt even worse outside than she did inside her home, and she didn’t want to be known as the kid who threw up on the street.

She ran down to her sister’s spa and found her dead in her hot tub. Then, she heard the singing. Before the singing had even finished, she was already down at her parents’ room to find them dead at the table.

She started running back home, and when she got back home, she went straight to her room. She heard a voice that dripped with false sweetness singing, “Blackbox, blackbox coming to your room.”

She ran to her brother’s room and found him dead. She heard the singing again, “Blackbox, blackbox coming to your brother’s room.”

“Blackbox, blackbox coming to your parents’ room.”

She had nowhere to run, so she held the door down and didn’t hear anything else. She opened the door and heard eerie creaking of the door. Within a minute, she collapsed with pain and nausea. The last thing she saw was a figure of a doll with a bloody knife and a familiar voice screaming, “Claire!” Then, everything went black.

Mrs. Johnson, the grandmother of Claire, Jackson, and Diana Johnson, had just arrived at the old family mansion. She was just unloading her bags from her car when she thought she heard a commotion inside the house. Was that Claire’s voice? She dropped her luggage and ran towards the sound. She saw a doll with a knife on her granddaughter’s chest, and Claire’s face was clouded with pain. Just as the doll took aim for Claire’s chest, she fearfully screamed, “Claire!”

She saw her granddaughter dead on the floor, and she screamed. She froze with fear. She didn’t know what do. Her grandchildren always looked up to her as this brave hero, but this time she was not that brave hero that her grandchildren saw in her. She was scared and paralyzed. She had never been in a situation like this, so the only logical thing to do was call the police. The next day, she immediately told the people who work for the newspaper. When the police looked at the videotape from the security cameras, it showed the grandmother of Claire, Jackson, and Diana killing them all. The police had no other choice but to arrest their grandmother. This was a sad ending for everyone. She couldn’t even see the funeral for her family. Besides, the video footage all the police found was of Claire holding a seven fingered doll. This was the last we ever heard from the Johnson family.


This is what the news article looked like:


Breaking News!!!

Yesterday, we were informed that a family of three children, one mother, and one father were killed in the safety of their home. The police found the corpses and a seven fingered doll at the scene of the crime. The police have found no evidence of who killed the family. If anyone finds any evidence, please call the police, and let them know. The youngest child in the family, Claire, who was a girl, had no wounds on her body, so the CSI thought she was poisoned. Jackson, the middle child who was a boy, had a single bullet wound in his chest. Diana, who was the oldest child and a girl, also had no wounds, but her lungs were filled the water. We were told that her lungs were filled with water and that she was drowned. Finally, the parents both had stab wounds on them. We are very sorry for the death of this family. The police are doing everything to find the cause of this family’s death.


The Forbidden Sisters

Two girls, one story. One girl has no powers and lives with normal people until she finds out her secret. The other girl lives in luxury because she has powers, but then she goes on a journey to find out her past and why she is so unique.


Chapter One:



One normal day, I go to a poorly funded school early in the morning. My school has brown paint peeling off the walls, stains like everywhere, and teachers who only make like $2 per hour. The elites want us to be poor to level up their social status. I don’t like walking to school because people always make fun of me even though I’m just like them. They shout stuff like “Poor girl” or “We can’t have someone who is adopted around here.” The worst thing they have said to me is “This girl cannot be from here. Look at her hair.” I wish I was like the elites, the ones who have powers like mind control, water, lighting, and even super strength. But I’m just stuck here, no powers, barely any friends, and always being picked on. At least I have one thing people like about me, but sometimes it’s also my downfall, my hair. It’s kind of hard to explain. Well I’m gonna try. My hair is like a cinnamon red with a hint of super dark brown. My parents say I’m lucky because I have this hair. I don’t care about my hair. I just want to be cool like the elites.


5/12/2347: The Second Monday in May


I walk to school in my itchy uniform. I wish my school provided comfy uniforms, but they just had to give girls itchy leggings. My school is really expensive because it’s one of the best schools in Devorah and the world. Well, the whole world is pretty much a wasteland outside of Devorah, the “last protected city in the world.” Normal day at school, still the same marble walls and white paint. I wish my school changed for just one day. Like how about we celebrate some of the old holidays before the world was sucked of almost all of its materials like water or trees. We don’t even have any real, natural trees. We only have moss and some species of flower. One of the only flowers we have left is a lilac, and that’s why my hairs tips are lilac-colored. Just in case the lilac flower dies out, I still have a faint memory of the lilac through my hair. Well, I guess I have to stay in school or else I won’t learn.


Chapter Two:

5/13/2347: Tuesday


Today, in my school, I don’t know if I can even call it a school, we learned about why our city was called Devorah. Apparently, it was the last name of the couple who created Devorah, Jake and Marie Devorah. I think that’s a weird last name, Devorah, ugh. I feel like the elites, a.k.a. gods is what we call them here, used to be nice to people without powers before the world turned into a wasteland. I think the gods turned greedy, selfish, and mean when the world “failed.”


5/13/2347: The Second Tuesday in May


Today, we practiced our powers. Like everyday, people crowd around me because I have a very unique power, fire. After we practiced, we went to class, and I learned that the thing that sets us elites apart from humans is that humans have red blood, while elites have aqua blood. That’s why when a baby is born, just to make sure, the doctors do a blood test to see if the baby has red or aqua blood. The teacher wanted us to find our puncture scar. Most people’s scars were on their palm, but mine was on my ankle. I thought, Hmm how weird. I guess it doesn’t matter that much.


Chapter Three:



No fair, my brother got to go to the inner part of Devorah a.k.a “where the elites live.” He got to meet the queen, Jessica, because he makes spices for the royals. I still have to wait until I’m fifteen to start a job, and right now I’m only thirteen. When someone turns fifteen, the royals choose what job that person “deserves.” Usually, they pick bad jobs for people like wasteland adventurer where they can possibly die. But that was a different case for my brother. Since my mom is a really good cook, she taught us how to cook for ourselves. So the royals wanted my brother to make spices and crush them down for the royal cooks. Sadly for him, only girls can be a royal cook which means I have a chance! Well, at least the parade is this Thursday. I love the parade because we get to skip school.


5/14/2347: The Second Wednesday of May


This week, we get to set up for the parade because it’s this Thursday. There are seven groups of four because there are twenty-eight kids in my class. My group is making desserts! I’m making chocolate ice cream. Sadly, the ice cream is made with artificial dairy because we don’t have cows. My friend Kallie is making snow cones with my other friend Bloom. Lastly, my friend Kassie is making popsicles. I am so excited for the parade!


Chapter Four:

Day of the parade… (before the parade started)


Yay! Finally, today is the day of the parade. I have been waiting all week for this. From 12:00-7:00 p.m. we have a giant parade to celebrate the creation of Devorah in 2047. That was three hundred years ago. We celebrate this holiday every year. This day is the only day people who are “humans” get to live kind of like the elites. Thinking about it makes me fidget in my chair.



Today is the day of the parade! We have to take a thirty minute drive to the parade area to set up. After we set up, we get to party at the parade! While we were in the car, I got to eat a snowcone. So good. We finally got here, and we have all the materials to make our stand, and we are building it right now. Yay! We finished building our stand and putting our tasty treats in. Now, we have to wait for a bit until we get to party!


Chapter Five:

During the parade…


Yay! The parade has started! When the parade was announced by the teachers, all the kids came flushing through the entrance. The parade has speakers and music and a dance floor. It feels like luxury! They have really good food like spaghetti, ice cream, snow cones, and tomato basil soup with meatballs. I love the tomato basil soup with meatballs that they serve because of its creamy goodness! Sadly, we have to use veggies to make meatballs because meat is so expensive. Ugh! I just got into a fight for the last piece of bread with my classmate Ferdinand. Ow, my cheek hurts. Ferdinand slapped it. Ugh!

I scream at Ferdinand, “I will hurt you so much you will regret that you ever messed with me.”

Ferdinand says in a confident voice, “Yeah right, you’re a girl!”

Then I get super angry.

I shout to Ferdinand, “Ughhhh! You will regret messing with… O-M-G I’m flying!”

Yay! I am getting noticed! Everyone is crowding around me. Ow, my hands are burning hot. I feel like they are on fire. Wait, wait, wait, am I an elite? My hands are sprouting fire! HELP!!! My head is super dizzy, what’s happening…



Party time! Woo hoo! Right now is slow dance time. With boys. There was always this guy I have always wanted to ask to the dance, but I never had the nerve to. His name is Giovanni. Ohh, Giovanni! His black hair is so wavy, and his eyes are so dreamy and a blue-grey color. He’s also really smart. I’m gonna ask him to the dance!

I ask Giovanni in a sweet voice, “Do you want to go to the dance Giovanni? I would love to go with you!”

Then I blink a lot.

Giovanni says, “I will never want to date someone like you. You’re so annoying. Also, I already have a girlfriend, so LEAVE me and my sweet girlfriend Sakura ALONE!”

Sakura says, “Yeah, what he said.”

Then, I run to the bathroom, and I sob my heart out for an hour. Tears are everywhere on the floor, on my dress, everywhere. Everyone is crowding around me and laughing except for my closest friends Kallie, Bloom, and Kassie. They are so nice. After that incidence, everyone will think I’m a dork, especially Giovanni and Sakura, the most popular kids in the school! When I come out of the bathroom, I see everyone crowding around someone. I overhear people saying it is a human. Why would people, even elites, be crowding around a human? I walk over to the crowd and see a human girl with a name tag that says “Sarah,” and she is floating! Only elites can do that! How is that possible? Is she an elite taking away from her family? How??? O-M-G her hands are shouting sparks of fire or ember! If she is not an elite, then how does she have a power? More specifically, how does she have the power that only I have in all of the elites?


Chapter Six:

Day after parade…


I just woke up on a hospital bed in one of our makeshift hospitals in my village, The Forgotten Ones. The reason why our village is called that is because it used to be an elite town that was the center of peace, trading, and bonds between the humans and the elites that prosper there. My town used to be funded by the elites at the start of the whole world turning into a wasteland. It used to be a place where humans and elites lived side by side. The humans were the people making stuff for sale and trade, and the elites would fund us humans in return for our precious goods. But all that changed some 150 years ago, when more resources started disappearing and less trades started coming. The elites cut off our funding. And that’s why we are called The Forgotten Ones. I wish I lived and died in the good era of my village because I could have had a good life, but I guess the people in the sky decided something else for me. The hospital has ripped curtains, stained beds, unsanitary gloves, and no place to rinse your hands. If I led a hospital, I would at least wash my hands with our fake water, so the doctors wouldn’t spread bacteria from patient to patient. But this is a poorly funded, makeshift hospital, so of course it won’t have that kind of stuff. The doctors said that I have powers and that I fainted because I never learned to control them, and I did a “Power Overload.” They just need to figure out what causes it, so they can give me treatment.



So let’s talk about last night. First, Giovanni breaks my heart. Wait, also Sakura. Secondly, I missed out on the slow dance. Lastly, I saw a HUMAN flying and sparks of ember or fire. If I told people about any of this, they would believe everything (sadly). EXCEPT A HUMAN FLYING WITH STUFF COMING OUT OF HER HANDS! Even more attention got drawn to her because it was a shadowy, dark night. Her hands showed up as a glimmer of light from a far. It was only a glimmer because so many people were crowding around her, and you could only see the light through the cracks between people’s bodies.


Chapter Seven:

Earlier that day…



I have to get to the bottom of this. How was I able to use powers? I’m a human, not an elite. I think I have an idea to solve this, whenever I bleed, my eyes get blurry, and I go unconscious. That means I have never seen my blood. I’m gonna give myself a paper cut. I’ll make the blood drip onto the paper and then hide the paper so no one knows. Then that will be the true way of knowing if I am an elite or human. If my blood is aqua, then I am an elite. If my blood is red, then I’m a human. I learned this fact because I saw this girl’s journal in the trash during the parade. The next day, it wasn’t in the trash. I guess before the girl left, she got her journal from the trash. When I was reading through, it she seemed like an elite girl, and I think her name is Lark. I got the paper, and I have my finger. I just cut my fi… Okay, I’m awake, now let’s see the paper. It’s under the bed. OH MY GOSH! MY BLOOD IS AQUA! I need to ask my mom if I’m adopted. THIS is life changing! I am an elite. I would never think in a million years I would have powers!


5/17/2347The Third Saturday of May


I can’t deal with these lies anymore! I can’t handle this! I’m going to figure out what happened to me, my origin. I know my blood is aqua. I’ve seen it before, and I have powers. So that rules out being a human. I’m going to the central government office. That place has all the documents about all the people who live in Devorah. The documents start when that person is born and end when that person dies. That’s why each family in Devorah has a document writer who writes documents about all of their family members and themselves, then sends them to the central office. They also have document writers for people who work at any workplace. Like schools, restaurants, and even the office buildings. Then, the editor looks over the documents and edits them. They even have the founding couples documents in there. All I have to do is sneak in there and look at my document, or since today is volunteer work day, I think I’ll just volunteer as an editor. Yeah, that’s a better idea. I don’t wanna go to jail.


Chapter Eight:

Later that day…



I’m gonna ask my mom. I’m walking to the kitchen right now.

I ask my mom, “Mom, am I adopted?”

My mom, Chesa, asks, “Why would you ever say that, Sarah Mahalia Chrysanthemum?!”

Because I am! Look at this piece of paper! It shows the color of my blood!” I say.

Shocked, Chesa looks at the paper, and she sees the paper has aqua blood on it. “You, you were never supposed to find out, honey. How did you know that your blood would mean elite or not, honey?” says Chesa.

“During the party, a girl named Lark threw her journal in the trash. I got interested, so I looked at the journal. There I learned a lot of information, including how elite people’s blood is aqua, and human blood is red. I also think Lark is an elite. But the day after, when I was in the hospital, while you and the doctor were talking, I snuck outside to check if the journal was still in the trash, so I could keep it. But it wasn’t in the trash, so I snuck back into the hospital and made it look like I never moved,” I say.

“Wow okay! Well, let me tell you how you are adopted and the story. So you know your brother, right?” says Chesa.

“Yeah, so?” I say.

“Well, I gave birth to your brother. I didn’t adopt him,” says Chesa.

“Wait, then how am I adopted?” I say.

“Well, I’m about to get there, so can you not talk till I’m done with the story?” says Chesa.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay, well after I gave birth to your brother, the doctors told me I used all my energy to give birth to your brother, so I couldn’t give birth anymore. So when I heard that an elite couple was having twins and that in the elite world you can’t have twins, they said on a secret telegram ‘I am letting one human family adopt my baby girl because twins are forbidden in the elite world. So can you meet at the alleyway between the elite and human world if you want her. But you cannot tell her she has powers.’ And since I’ve always wanted a daughter, I went there. It was the one of the happiest times of my life,” says Chesa.

One of the happiest times! You don’t love me the most!” I say.

“No, honey, it’s not like that. I love you and your brother equally, but having your brother was also one of my favorite times. Also, I said no interrupting. Anywho, back to the story. We changed your name right when you came home. Your name used to be Lilac, but to protect you, I renamed you Sarah. I thought you were never going to find out till that party where you did a ‘Power Overload.’ I knew you were going to find out. Oh, and your sister is Lark. Just in case, if you wanted to know why they wanted to put you up for adoption, they said they did a game to see who stayed with the couple, and in the end Lark was chosen to stay,” says Chesa.

“Wait, that girl’s journal I found was my sister’s!” I say.

“Yes, Sarah, yes,” says Chesa.

Then we hugged.


3/17/2347The Third Saturday of May


Okay, I was chosen to go help being editor. We are lining up in front of the office. Right now, they’re telling us all the rules. They’ve assigned me to the group where we throw junk mail. They seperate us into partners. One group goes to families, one to work offices, one ‘other stuff,’ and one for illegal. Only the two oldest get to do illegal. I am the second oldest, so I can do illegal. This is where I can see my illegal family documents, if we have any. They are categorized by first name, and since my dad is a document writer, it must be under his first name. “A” where are you? Found you! Now all I have to do is find Andrew Mendoza. Found him! Let’s see the documents. Twin birth! What’s this? Let’s check. This is what the document says: “My wife has just given birth to twins. Names Lilac and Lark. Since twins are forbidden, I must release one of them. Lilac has gone to a nice, human family while Lark stays with us. I wish I could keep both daughters.” Who could be Lilac? Lilac is my sister? I can’t deal with this. I’m going to the human side next week. I need to find my sister.


The End

The story of Lark and Sarah will continue in Forbidden Sisters: The Journey