Voices
&
Visions
2016
2015-2016
Voices
&
Visions
Lexy
Volume 23
1~i~
Voices
Prose
Page
1
5
9
16
19
22
26
32
34
44
47
49
66
68
74
77
83
84
87
91
93
95
99
Title
His Jacket
Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone
A Fruitless Mission
A Doll’s Journey
The Top of the Arch
Vengeance on Persia
The Tube
Modern Day Muslim
Villains
Personal Narrative
The Call
Evergreen
Stuffed Treasures
The Dreams
Books With Sad Endings are Overrated
Street Rat
How to Build a Backyard Rocket Ship
Help
My First Club Soccer Goal
The Last Chapter to a Story I’ll Never Write
Pizza Joint or Pencil?
The Bad Luck Story
My Beloved Gia Gia (yay-ya)
Voice of
Melissa
Rachel
Ryan
Amaya
Alyson
Edward
Greta
Ameena
Emily
JT
Zoya
Hannah
Rion
William
Holly
Madeleine
Nate
Jasmine
Elisabeth
Julia
Karlie
Kylee
Xanthe
Isabel
Scholastic Art Show~Silver Key
Holly
Poetry
Page
iii
31
38
39
46
65
65
65
65
72
73
88
89
90
98
Scholastic Art Show~Silver Key
Title
Metaphor Poem
Short, Simple, Sweet Poems
“Angel in My Arms”
“Forget-Me-Not,” “Disease,” “Show Biz”
“In a Crowd of People”
“A Candle’s Life”
Metaphor Poem
“Life is a Wrestling Match”
“Galaxies”
“Smaller than Life,” “Dreams to Wait”
“Shining Bright”
“Don’t give up”
“Umbrellas Aren’t Meant for Sunny Days”
“Seeing Double,” “The Life of a Suicidal Adult”
Untitled
Voice of
Aleksandar
Ruby
Brooke
Caitlyn
Savannah
Anish
Vanessa
Jason
Charlotte
Brooke
Miah
Kaleb
Mia
Mia
Ho lly
Evan
Scholastic Art Show~Silver Key
~iv~
Visions
Page
cover
i
ii
ii
ii
iii
4
4
5
8
14
14
15
16
21
30
30
33
33
38
40
40
40
40
41
41
41
41
41
42
42
42
42
43
43
43
43
43
46
48
48
64
64
64
64
67
71
Metaphor Poem
Vision of
Griffin
Lexy
Isabel
Holly
Evan
McKenna
Avery
Claire
Rachel
Evan
Will
Julia
Matthew
Evan
Simi
Greta
Olivia
Kelsey
Kelsey
Dyana
Jasmine
Kylie
Mia
Rianna
Jamie
Suhanee
Grace
Nate
Myles
Jamie
Paige
Jasmine
Julia
Ella
Iman
Brianna
Sydney
Kelsey
Holly
Karenna
Lindsey
Taylor
Kylee
Sammie
Olivia
Suzie
Julia
Life is a jungle, you're surrounded
by vicious animals, poisonous objects,
but also beautiful flowers.
You struggle and survive. You look to the side,
and see a bright glow of an oncidium.
You reach out and touch it,
but get stung by the raging ants that nest on it’s bright petals.
You learn that some beautiful things can be dangerous.
You continue to walk.
Then you find yourself in front of an anaconda,
staring at you as if you were a rodent.
Waiting to be eaten.
It tries to hold you back but you sprint and power through it,
but it can't hold you back.
And then you reach the end of the vibrant jungle.
You look back,
and see all of the things you've been through.
And when you exit the danger zone,
you will find yourself standing
in paradise.
Aleksandar
McKenna
Scholastic Art Show~Gold Key
~iv~
Voices & Visions: 2015-2016
A Collection of the Arts: Pride of the Pack
Visions
Dear MSN,
Page
73
85
86
86
89
92
100
Vision of
Miah
Alexa
Matthew
Caoimhe
Kylie
Isabel
Jasmine
_______________________________
After reading, editing, discussing, and enjoying, the Publications Club is pleased to present the 23rd edition of Voices & Visions.
Full of verbal and visual imagery that showcases the clever and creative, the serious and the silly, the thought-full and thoughtful ideas and
talents of the students at North, this edition aims to continue on the
path of excellence and enjoyment of previous editions .
It would be difficult to say that this was an easy job, but easy
to say that it could not be done without you. Enjoy this edition that is
packed with pride for the Pack. Go ,Wolves!
The Editors
_______________________________
Young Author Representatives
With special thanks to...
8th grade: Rachel, Alyson, Ameena, JT, Brooke,
Jasmine, Elisabeth, Mia, Julia
7th grade: Melissa, Amaya, Greta, Caitlyn,
Madeleine , Ruby, Nate, Holly
~those who shared their voices and showed their visions
~families, friends and faculty who support and encourage the artist in
each of us
~Principal Todd Jakowitsch and Assistant Principal McKenna Serowka
and all of North’s faculty and staff
~Joshua Anderson and Anna Joy
6th grade: Ryan, Edward, Emily, Zoya, Hannah,
Rion, William, Xanthe
Extra special thanks to…
Mrs. Metaxas~Literature and Language Arts Department Head~for
your strong leadership, guidance, and support
A Way with Words: All-School Spelling Bee
Mrs. Bevan~for inspiring artists and capturing their visions in photos
contained in this edition
8th grade: Winner: Liam Alternate: Ostap
Mrs. Lakiotis~for collaboration and kindness as we promote and produce North’s publications
7th grade: Winner: Nicole Alternate: Chase
Ms. Lamb ~for sharing your enthusiasm and love of literature and
learning with your students and colleagues. Best of luck as you go to
South; you will be missed!
6th grade: Winner: Sharanya Alternate: Madison
Building Winner: Sharanya
Runner up: Ostap
Mrs. Dooley-Taylor and Mrs. Sieckowski~for the countless creative
ways you engage us in all that literature and the LMC have to offer
Mrs. Veitch~for your technical assistance
Credits:
Excellent Editors: Alexis, Alexandra, Sasha, Jenell, and Nikita
Proud Pair of Publications Promoters: Ms. Anderson and Mrs. Lakiotis
Art and Photography Liaison: Mrs. Bevan
Cover Art: Griffin
Lake Zurich Middle School North
95 Hubbard Lane
Hawthorn Woods, IL 60047
Printed copies available out of house at The UPS Store, Lake Zurich, Illinois. Created on Microsoft Word and Publisher. Student produced.
Questions/Comments to janine.anderson@lz95.org
~iv~
His Jacket
ankles, and you're not wearing a jacket." John
observed.
"A little, but I'm ok, I'm used to it." Shirly said,
staring blankly at the snow.
John didn't understand why she was so
tough. There was no way he wouldn't ask
someone for a jacket, but now that he thought of
it, he'd never seen Shirly wear anything else. He
hoped she washed her clothes, because he
couldn't remember her wearing anything else.
Silently, he looked down at the jacket he was
wearing and back up to Shirly. His mom always
told him to be a gentleman, so he carefully took
off his jacket and draped it on Shirly's shoulders.
"Wh-" Shirly started, looking at the jacket and
then John.
John turned away and blushed slightly. He
crossed his arms and pulled his legs to his chest
to keep warm. He could feel Shirly watching him.
She wasn't sure what to say.
"You can keep it until you get a jacket
yourself. My mum won't mind if I don't have my
jacket, if it's for a good reason." John answered
to Shirly's unasked question.
Soon a car pulled up in the empty pick up
line. Cheeks red, and nose running, he smiled
and waved goodbye to Shirly as he jogged off to
the car. Shirly wasn't sure how to react to all that
had happened. No one was ever really nice to
her, and she had expected John to run off the
moment she spoke. The car sputtered off, but
she didn't look up. She didn't see John watching
her. She was looking at the jacket. A little small
because John was quite shorter than her, but
otherwise very comfortable.
"Why would he give me his only jacket?"
She muttered.
After making herself comfortable, a small
Ford pulled into the pickup lane. Swiftly, Shirly
got up and walked off to the car. Her long legs
and longer stride made her appear to be gliding.
While she was hoisting herself into the back
seat, she saw her father looking at her with a
strange expression.
"Where'd you get that jacket," he asked "I
don't remember you taking yours this morning.
Did you find it, because if you did, you should
report it to the office rather than take it home. I'll
wait." Her father proposed.
Dots of white float down to the Earth like
small Angels. John was huddled against the
concrete wall of his elementary school. He tried
desperately to cram himself out of view of the
world, he wanted to be invisible. John was a shy
kid, and he didn't want anything to do with Shirly.
She was a lean girl who never spoke. She just
observed. Of course, John was very quiet too,
but in a different way. Shirly was just scary.
John couldn't believe he was scared of a girl.
He was after all, the most athletic person in his
grade, and was easily stronger than everyone.
He just couldn't shake the strange feeling he got
when Shirly was around. She always watched
him at recess when he was playing with his
friends. The strange feeling always threw him
off, and no matter how much he tried to ignore it,
he just couldn't concentrate. All of the kids in his
class thought Shirly was weird, sure, but they
didn't understand why John was so intimidated
by her.
At that moment, John decided to stop
thinking about it. He might jinx himself, he
thought. Just then, Shirly pounced.
"What's up Wilson? " Shirly purred as she
weaved through the trees in the field.
Wilson was John's last name. This was the
first time he'd ever heard Shirly speak, and the
first thing she says is his last name. How could
she be so casual? So cold and mysterious? She
was only in fifth grade, the same as John!
"U-um, waiting for my mum... what're you up
to?" John shyly responded.
"Oh I'm waiting for my mum too." Shirly
crowed, smoothly planting herself next to John.
If John were to be completely honest, he
hadn't really thought that Shirly had a mother, or
family. She was just the scary girl that watched
him, and now, was talking to him. She had very
light blue eyes, the color of the sky when you
see it through thin clouds. He hair was black and
curly, which is why her parents called her Shirly.
Her cold blue eyes pale skin made her seem like
a phantom, which would explain why she was so
silent and eerie. John glanced at her.
"Aren't you cold? Your pants are to your
~1~
"I didn't find it, it's from a... friend." Shirly
admitted.
Her dad raised an eyebrow. He never
realized Shirly had friends. She never mentioned
them anyway.
"Friend? How come?" He inquired.
seemed cold. I told her she could use mine until
she got one." John continued, annoyed at his
mother's remark.
"Well won't you be cold? I'm not getting you
another jacket you know." She said.
"I'm tough! I can withstand a little cold." He
said, smugly.
"He-" Shirly started.
" OOOOO, it's a he?" Her father chortled.
"Yeah dad, I just met him today while I was
waiting for you," she explained, "he thought I
was cold without my jacket, so he gave me his."
***
After playing outside against his mother's
advice, John couldn't stop sniffling or sneezing.
He coughed all night and honestly hoped he'd
feel better by the next day
so that Shirly wouldn't see him like this. He knew
that if Shirly saw him with a cold she’d give him
his jacket back even if she didn't have one yet.
“Come on body. Don't be dysfunctional the
one day I need you to work…” John murmured,
flopping onto his side.
He slowly closed his eyes and went to sleep,
begging his body to fight off the virus enough so
that he wasn't coughing.
***
It was ten in the evening, and although Shirly
should've been asleep, she wasn't. She was
wide awake, thinking about the jacket. Next year
she would be in middle school, a whole new kind
of torture. Now that she had spoken to John, she
hoped that he'd make it better, but she
wondered if he'd ever really be her friend. She
snorted. Friends? She didn't have friends. John
seemed to be a possibility, but she would have
to wait and see what happens.
"Maybe he won't leave. Maybe he isn't like
the others were." She muttered to herself.
She turned on her side and burrowed into her
quilt. Sighing, she closed her eyes and waited
for the night to fade.
***
The next day, Shirly had brought her jacket
so that John wouldn’t worry about her anymore.
She walked to the bus embarrassed that she
had to wear her long purple parka, but if it meant
she didn't have to keep John’s pity jacket, she'd
wear almost anything.
John was at his bus stop not far away. Of
course he was oblivious to the fact that he could
visit Shirly quite easily, in fact, John was just a
house too far from Shirly’s bus route. This
probably wasn't good news for Shirly, because if
both of them were on the same bus, she
wouldn't have to keep the pity jacket any longer.
Shirly hated looking at the pity jacket, but it
was impossible to avoid it. She didn't like getting
help, especially if it’s because someone pitied
her. If someone pitied her, she thought it would
be because they thought she was ignorant or
incapable, and she was neither.
Once both John and Shirly were at school,
they tried to find each other in the huge clumps
of children. They had a few minutes before they
herded everyone into the building to start
classes, so Shirly ran. The pity jacket was
***
"John, where's your jacket? Did you lose it
again?" His mother asked.
"I didn't lose it, there was a girl-" John
started.
"OOOOO, is she CUTE?" His mom
marveled.
"Mooooooommm..." John muttered at her
response,"she's just a friend!"
This was actually the first time that John had
called, or even thought of Shirly as a friend since
they spoke. He hadn't actually thought of them
as more than acquaintances since they had
barely spoken twenty minutes ago. Friendship
was a possibility, but he didn't think meeting
counted.
"Fine then, continue. Why don't you have
your jacket?" She nagged.
"She didn't have a jacket with her and she
~2~
mocking her now, and she was desperate to get
rid of it.
“John!” She yelled, ignoring the stunned
faces around her.
“Shirly?” John responded to her voice.
good, and Shirly was still unresponsive. He
didn't understand, Shirly was usually unfazed by
this sort of thing, why was she suddenly
bothered?
“Oh you think you're smarter than us?
Smarter than me?” The jock growled.
“You know, just because you can't think for
yourself, doesn't mean you have to make me
think for you. Besides, even a dog could figure
out that I'm smarter than you.” John smirked.
John had strategically moved backwards so
that the unresponsive Shirly wouldn't be caught
in the fight that seemed to be boiling. Every
minute felt like an hour, and John couldn't
believe no teacher was noticing this. The jock
continued to advance towards John until he was
right in his face. Tips of noses almost touching,
the jock pushed John back and hissed:
“Fight me, little boy.”
And with that it began. People were noticing,
but not the right people. Still no teachers. Where
they deaf? How could they not hear the
chanting? John focused on the jock, who was
now charging head first towards him. Like a
bullfighter, John stepped to the side at the last
moment and let the jock sprint past. The jock
turned around and tried again. This time John
grabbed his shirt and for a split second, the jock
was close enough for John to whisper in his ear.
“With pleasure, you brainless oaf.”
The jock, now lying on the ground, snarled
and got up to lunge at John. He got ready to
dodge the blow, but somehow Shirly was in front
of him. He couldn't understand how she got
there, and apparently, neither could the jock. He
stopped in his tracks and stared at Shirly. She
stood tall and defiant, and just as soon as the
jock stopped, she threw her leg up and
performed a magnificently graceful roundhouse
kick. Of course it wasn't enough to hurt the jock,
but it was enough to knock him down.
“Did you just kick me? In the face?” The jock
asked incredulously.
“Yes, and I won't hesitate to do it again. If I
am provoked, I'll do it again, and I'll make it
hurt.” Shirly threatened.
Quickly, the group scampered away. Just in
time too, the teachers had finally heard the
ruckus. Knowing that they’d both get in trouble,
“Your jacket.” She panted.
Stunned, John looked at her outstretched
arm. There was the jacket he had given to her
the day before. Looking up he realized that she
was wearing her own jacket, and after that came
an even more surprising realization. The strange
feeling was gone. He hadn't noticed it yesterday
when they first spoke, but the strange feeling he
got around Shirly was gone. Soon after realizing
that, he also realized that they were standing in
front of a group of John’s “friends”.
These were the jocks of fifth grade. The jocks
thought John was their friend, but John only
thought of them as the people he played soccer
with at break. He regretted not paying attention
where he and Shirly had stopped, because as
we all know, fifth grade boys are very immature
and ruthless.
“Well then, looks like John’s got a girlfriend.”
The leader of the group jeered.
“John, why didn't you tell us? Did she force
you?” Another jock chortled.
The group started to laugh and then
continued on to a chant. It started out with
“John’s got a girlfriend” and progressed to the
little poem that all the elementary school kids
know by heart: “ John and Shirly sitting in a
tree”. John was getting fed up, he glanced at
Shirly and saw her turning red… but not with
rage.
“Hey, leave her alone. We literally met
yesterday and you think she's my girlfriend?”
John asked incredulously.
“Why does she have your jacket then?” One
jock asked.
“Cause she was cold and I was nice. Anyone
with a functioning brain would've done the same
thing, but I forgot. You're all brainless goats.”
John shot back.
The jocks stated a John for a while with
extremely ape like expressions. Before John got
a chance to fully bask in the glory of his
comeback, the leader advanced. This didn't look
~3~
Shirly grabbed John’s hand and bolted towards
a huge hedge. She gracefully slipped through
the branches, and when John followed, he
discovered that the inside was fairly hollow.
They sat in silence for a minute, panting from
the run, but mostly because neither really knew
what to make of the fight.
“Where’d you learn to kick like that?” John
asked, looking at his lap shyly.
“Nowhere. I’ve read about it before and
thought it might be a good time to try it.” She
replied, also looking at her lap.
That was the day they both realized that they
were friends. Shirly and John got through fifth
grade together, the jocks not bothering them
since the fight and all. They both talked to each
other only, and people were astonished that
such a warm athletic guy like John, could be
friends with such a cold mysterious girl like
Shirly.
Middle school was hard for Shirly, but she
had John to help her. She always appreciated
the fact that John knew when to help. He always
knew when she needed help, even if she
wouldn’t ask for it. High school was another
difficult time for Shirly. John had friends to invite
him to parties, whereas Shirly only had John.
She wasn’t complaining, John was a fabulous
and fascinating human being, but sometimes,
she wished she could try a party. It turned out,
that after John’s first party, he insisted on
bringing Shirly with him if she wanted to come.
He’d claimed it was boring without her.
College was hard for John, since he wasn’t
nearly as smart as Shirly. He wanted to be an
author, but he had to take classes other than
just those for his career. Shirly wanted to be a
physicist, and frankly, was extremely good at her
studies. She had an amazing memory, and was
top student in all of her classes. Since she didn’t
have much work to do, she helped John in her
free time.
Adulthood meant less time spent together,
and more time spent with their families. Shirly
had found herself an intelligent doctor, and John
had found himself a kind teacher. High school
reunions were always fun for them, because
people remarked on how little they had changed.
One old student brought up the fact that no one
knew where Shirly and John had met, but
someone did. Shirly and John did. They’d never
forget the day when they’d met their best friend.
Melissa
Avery
Claire
~4~
Rachel
Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone
I was lucky enough to have a music filled life from the age of 6. Starting piano was a childhood
dream of mine and I'm glad that I was able to live out that dream until fifth grade. By then my ever
changing mind had decided I wanted to stop piano and pursue another hobby. Interests ranged
from art to ice skating to volleyball. In the end I always ended up with orchestra in my mind,
specifically cello.
I wanted to learn another instrument and join orchestra with all my friends. When I eventually
told my mom about my interest in joining orchestra, she was hesitant. She suggested to me that I might
want to take a different route, and try out band. At first I was adamant, orchestra was something I was
familiar with and joining band was a frightening idea. Then, as the idea grew, I grew increasingly curious
at what band would be like.
I spent my time searching up band instruments, marching bands, and anything to do with band.
As I continued to research the idea became more appealing to me. The rhythmic steps and majestic
sounds of over fifteen instruments blended to a magical piece. I wanted to be able to be a part of
~5~
something like that. I was soon torn in a inner struggle, my mind told me that orchestra is all I ever
wanted to do, but my heart was pounding with excitement for what band could bring. The deciding
deciding day was when my mom brought a small black rectangular bag home. She smiled and told me to
unzip it. In the seemingly plain case, was a brilliant, shining flute. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.
The silver keys and the light bouncing off the flute seemed to mesmerize me. In that moment I was
convinced that taking up the flute would be the best idea for me.
As the last day to sign up for orchestra drew to an end, my heart grew lighter. My indecision was
over and I had a plan in my mind. Replacing that uncertainty was bursting excitement. I thought I was
ready for anything, but as the day for first band rehearsal approached, that excitement was joined by
nervousness. I was starting on a path I was unfamiliar with. What if I made no friends? What if I wasn't
any good at flute? What if the other students were mean?
My fears were unfounded. My band mates became some of my greatest friends, I learned to love
flute, and everyone was a part of a bigger cause and everyone was important. My fifth grade experience
was wonderful, and now in eighth grade, some of my closest friends and my best memories are because of
band. Now I'm nervous for a new and exciting journey in high school marching band. My first step into
an unfamiliar place led me to who I am today and I'm glad that I stepped out of my comfort zone.
My sense of adventure for the unknown led me to a lot of places and a lot of new experiences.
One of these experiences was something I'd never thought would happen. I would go snowboarding. It
sounds pretty ordinary, but it wasn't for me. It was one of the greatest paths I have ever chosen.
The winter of sixth grade, like every winter, my family went skiing. It had become a tradition to
go to Cascade mountain to go skiing. Riding down the slopes was always fun because it was a challenge,
but now I had become competent enough that it became easy. I was no longer thrilled at the idea of trying
to stay on my skis. I wasn't scared and so It wasn't as fun.
Finally, after complaining about how boring skiing got, my brother suggested trying
snowboarding. I had never actually thought of snowboarding and I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to do it.
I decided that if I liked skiing because it was hard, maybe I would like snowboarding because it would be
hard for me. I was excited for a new adventure.
Soon I was looking at snowboarding YouTube videos and my excitement grew and grew.
I was determined to be a cool snowboarder who could land jumps and 180s and ride rails. As the
date of our trip grew closer I grew more confident. I thought, "Skiing was easy for me, I'll be great at
snowboarding." Unfortunately, I was very wrong.
Once our family arrived at Cascade, I immediately went to rent a snowboard and I rushed to try
on my snowboard. I was greatly disappointed. I could barely even stand up. Even if I stood, I could not
keep my balance. My brother helped until I could stop and turn, but my vision of jumping and riding rails
~6~
were not anywhere near to what the reality was. I could barely go down the bunny hill without falling on
my face. I could already feel the bruises forming and the muscles getting sore. I was on the edge of giving
up by the end of the day.
As my family was heading back to our hotel, my brother smirked at me asking if I was ready to
give up yet. Inside I knew I was on the verge of quitting, but my brother's goading countenance kept me
from quitting. Also my stubborn sense of pride. I said no, and smiled as if my whole body didn't feel like
I was burning.
At the hotel room, I slowly took my snowboarding gear off and gratefully took a shower. As I
went to bed, I stared at the ceiling and as my eyes were about to close, I wondered to myself how I would
do this again tomorrow. With worry on my mind I fell asleep.
The next day, my eyes snapped open and I could immediately feel pain coursing through my
body. I gritted my teeth as I got ready. I should have stretched before getting into bed, but I was too tired.
It was going to be a long day of sore muscles and a whole lot of pain.
As the ski lift climbed up the hill my stomach started sinking. I wished that the ski lift would go
slower so I wouldn't have to get off. As the mountain drew closer I groaned inwardly and got off. I was
surprised at the progress I made from yesterday. I didn't fall in front of everyone like usual, I just
stumbled and got out of fellow skiers ways. My hopes started to rise, maybe it won't be so bad. I was
greatly disappointed as I flew down the hill.
I lost control before I had even gone ten yards. My thighs and arms seemed to be engulfed in
flames. Trying to snowboard down the hill seemed impossible. To balance I would need to bend my
knees. To feel slightly less in pain, I would have to stand. Turning or moving out of peoples' way was out
of the question. I had no control and it was as if I was being controlled by my board. As I staggered down
the mountain, my mind had decided to switch back to skiing. My pride was injured, but not as much as
my sore muscles.
I switched my rental and tried skiing down a hill. It was, to put it simply, mind numbingly boring.
There was no other way to describe it. There was no challenge and it wasn't appealing.
I thought that there was nothing I could do. I couldn't snowboard and skiing was boring. After
riding down a few slopes I started weighing my options. I was starting to feel doubtful. Finally, I couldn't
stand it anymore. I would rather have the challenge of snowboarding than this tedious activity. I steeled
myself for the rest of the day.
Now that I had completely committed to snowboarding. I realized that it was the right choice. At
the end of the day, I had become mediocre at snowboarding. I still wasn't very good, but now I could
control my board and I could turn. As I became better, riding down the slopes got more fun. I loved
feeling the wind rush past my face and the steep turns.
~7~
Now, I am really glad that I chose to persevere through and choose snowboarding. I love this
sport and I don't ever think about switching back to skiing. The even though I wasn't sure about my
choice then, I'm sure about my choice now. I'm grateful that I was pushed out of my comfort zone and I
hope to make bold choices in the future that will lead me to new opportunities and journeys.
Rachel
Evan
~8~
A Fruitless Mission
through the 24 degree cold, wasting as little time
as possible getting to my mom’s SUV.
“Screeeeeeech.” Don't you hate the sound
“Hi son, how was your day?” she inquired
of nails on a chalkboard? It makes me feel like
inquisitively.
some monster is slowly creeping towards me
“Great, you?” I replied passively.
from behind, ready to pounce. To other people,
“Great.”
the sound is purely annoying and doesn't remind
We used to live in Nicaragua (hence the
them of any monster, but rather it reminds them
mountain lion and the hat) where the
of their clumsy 2nd grade teacher. But to me,
temperature was warm most of the time, so the
this is a sound of horror because of the actual
move to Chicago in winter was hard. It had been
monster (a mountain lion to be specific) that
about five years since we moved and I still liked
creeped slowly towards my two year old self in
Nicaragua better. We had lived in Nicaragua
my baby crib before pouncing and taking off my
because of my dad’s job in the ISDA
left leg. It never got the rest me because a
(International Spy and Detective Association). I
second later, my chalkboard fell off the wall and
had always wanted to go to the local ISDA prep
crushed him. I don't like the memory, but
academy when I was old enough, but I ended up
apparently the memory likes me because I am
having to go to the much less glamorous ISDA
consistently reminded by the sound of nails on
training school in Chicago. But not all of it was
the chalkboard which was currently coming from
bad because I had finished training school
my teacher’s abnormally long nails and tiny
recently and tonight was my first real
piece of chalk that should probably be in the
assignment. My associate and I had to remove
garbage.
the fake Spartan helmet that was on display in
“Screeeeeeech.” Ignore it.
the Field Museum and replace it with the real
“Screeeeeeech.” It's nothing.
one that had been hidden in the West Hills Mall,
“Rrrring.” Final bell! I rushed to the
somewhere on the second floor.
classroom door and flung it open. My locker is
I should have been excited, but instead I
very conveniently placed directly across the hall
was nervous. I had been specially trained to get
from my teacher, Mrs. Clear’s, room and 5.63
around the difficulties of my leg, which I had
feet from the door to the school parking lot. My
been teased about in middle school. I just
mom always picks me up after school. My
needed to calm down and everything would go
parents think buses are one of the easiest
as planned and my associate, Connor, who I
transportation systems to manipulate, making
had made sure would be matched up with me,
them prone to crime and robbery and kidnapping
would meet me at four thirty to inspect the fake
and dangerous cargo and… I have been given a
helmet on display. Calm. Calm. Calm.
whole lecture on it. My parents are way too
Normally, one’s parents would pick up their
superstitious, but I guess that's what happens
child at school and take them home to do their
after a lifetime of undercover work. I put on my
homework. My parents were definitely not those
Lake Nicaragua hat and ran out the door and
~9~
“They went in about ten minutes ago,”
parents. My mom took me directly to the
Kaitlyn said.
museum, where I would wait for my associate to
“Oh,” said the too-short lady getting a little
arrive. I decided to do my homework in the
lobby. I had two pages of science, one page of
more cheerful. “Those lovely folks with the video
math, and, worst of all, an essay for history, due
camera? Yes, you must be Kristopher and Caleb
the next day. I decided to start with science, my
Tressen. You have such lovely parents. Go right
favorite, but I couldn't focus. It felt like millennia
in.” We went right in. The too-short lady was too
before my supervisor showed up disguised as a
distracted to notice that the names she had said
tourist with Connor following behind him as if he
belonged to two boys but it was clearly a boy
were his daughter. The first thing I thought was
and a girl standing in front of her. Apparently our
that I should have disguised myself as well. The
pretend parents had thought Conner was
second thing I thought was, why does Connor
showing up too. At least the first part of our plan
look like a girl? This led to the third thing I
worked. It seemed odd to me that the director of
thought, which was that it was in fact a girl that
the museum would close the museum early
was following my supervisor and not Connor at
because of our assignment, yet not tell any of
all. The fourth thing I thought was that I had
the staff about us.
I gestured to my supervisor that we would
been standing there for a while without
take it from there. He gestured to me to be safe.
introducing myself.
I gestured to him that we needed to go or else
“Hello. I am Jonathan Cook, Level 1, new
we would not have enough time to sneak into
recruit,” I said nervously.
the mall and return the real helmet to the
“I am Kaitlyn Fai, Level 1, new recruit,” she
said with much more enthusiasm than I had.
museum. I specialize in hand gestures. Kaitlyn
She had dark brown hair and a slight Asian hint
and I got a map of the museum and walked two
in her face and eyes. She wore a red shirt with
hallways, two staircases, and an exhibit on
the words Ancient Greece and a sword running
Indian Art until we finally arrived at the Greek
through the middle. She had a matching red
Exhibit. I checked my watch. Four-thirty, right on
headband in her hair and red sunglasses
time. In half of an hour the museum would be
propped up on her head. I looked back at her
closed and then we could begin our inspection
eyes and saw them fixed on my prosthetic left
of the fake helmet. All we had to do until then
leg.
was pretend to be interested in clay pots and old
I cleared my throat and her head jerked up.
forms of writing. Kaitlyn handed our passes to
“Shall we buy our tickets?” I said. She nodded
the collector by the door and we entered the
and we headed towards the ticket sale counter.
exhibit.
The inside of the Greek Exhibit was huge. I
“Two one hour Greek Exhibit passes,” I
said, handing the ticket lady two $20 bills.
“Is an adult accompanying you?” said a
thought at first that surely I would have plenty to
do for the next half hour, but after five minutes it
lady that was too short for her job.
~ 10 ~
“It's really dark in here,” Kaitlyn said with a
was clear that I wasn't going to be able to focus
quiver in her voice. I wondered if she's scared of
on anything.
the dark too, or maybe she was just cold. That
Kaitlyn and I had barely talked to each
other. I decided that even though I was still
thought made me notice that it was in fact very
furious that I hadn't been paired with Connor, I
cold in the janitor’s closet and there was a
should probably get to know Kaitlyn a little bit. I
strange smell, probably mildew. Even though we
walked around the exhibit until I found her
were only in the janitor’s closet for ten minutes, it
reading about the Parthenon.
felt like we had been waiting for hours before a
tall thin man in a blue dress shirt showed up.
“Hi,” I said not knowing how to continue. “I
“Hello children, I am Aibeecee
know we’re both upset that we have been paired
together, but I don't want that to get in the way of
Deeyeeyeffjee, manager of this museum,” he
our assignment.”
said with a smile that made me uncomfortable. “I
suspect you are here to examine the location
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said. “It's
just that I trained with Tiffany for three years and
where the Spartan helmet was stolen?”
“Yes,” Kaitlyn replied.
I wanted to go on my first assignment with her.”
“Follow me,” said Aibeecee Deeyeeyeffjee,
“I get what you mean,” I said, thinking about
which was obviously not his real name. I
Connor.
wondered why he would need a cover name
“The museum is closing soon. We should
probably get to our waiting place,” she said. We
when he was with two detectives he had hired?
had been given specific instructions for how to
And why would he chose the first seven letters
get from the Greek Exhibit to the janitor’s closet
of the alphabet?
We were led through the hallways Kaitlyn
where we would hide and wait for the museum
to empty. And by specific instructions I mean
and I had taken to get to the closet, but in
simple directions. And by simple directions I
reverse. Soon, we were in the Greek Exhibit.
mean some notes scrawled on a napkin that had
The large rooms were very eerie without the
been anonymously given to our supervisor who
lights on. Aibeecee led us through the the
had given them to Kaitlyn. Surprisingly, we
multiple rooms of the exhibit until we got to the
found the janitor’s closet pretty easily. I checked
only room in the exhibit with windows. Spread
my watch again. Four-fifty-four, perfect. We
throughout the room in glass cases were
wouldn't have to hide for long. While no one was
different items of clothing and armor one might
looking, we slipped into the janitor's closet and
wear in Ancient Greece. Under a very large
closed the door quietly.
window that looked fairly new was a case
It was absolutely, undoubtedly, completely,
containing a fake Spartan helmet. I walked up to
insurmountably, utterly, undeniably,
it to get a closer look. All of the detailing and
incontestably, manifestly, incontrovertibly black.
marking and even the age signs seemed very
I am very afraid of the dark.
realistic. This museum must have a lot of money
~ 11 ~
to be able to create such a replica on such short
were standing beneath the arch that was the
notice.
entrance to the mall.
Upon entering the mall I was pushed and
“Do you have any idea how someone could
have stolen the original?” Aibeecee asked
bumped by about ten people, but Kaitlyn
quietly.
seemed to be able to avoid everyone. My
parents never took me to malls for the fear of
“I think they came in through the windows,”
kidnappers and pickpockets so I had no
Kaitlyn said.
experience navigating through the crowd. We
“I agree,” I said. “I think it is best that we
find this helmet before whoever stole it can
managed to get to the elevators fairly quickly
move it.”
and had to squeeze into an elevator with five
“We received information” Aibeecee began,
other people. I looked at each of them. There
“that the helmet is probably hidden in either the
was a husband and wife and their daughter
Classic Nails nail salon or the News Eagle
going to level 7. There was also a man dressed
newspaper and magazine shop. We know this
like he was going to an important meeting, and
because the criminal was seen climbing out of a
his son dressed like he just jumped out of the
second story window on the east side of the
swamp, who were also going to level 2. That
mall. The only things on the east side of the mall
was all the inspection I got in because I heard a
other than those shops are the bathrooms.”
ding signaling that we had arrived at the second
“Thank you for your help and your time Mr.
floor. I allowed the man and his son to exit first,
Deeyeeyeffjee,” I said, “ but we must be going.”
but the swamp boy stopped at the door to push
“Go right ahead,” said Aibeecee, “and
every button between two and seven. You may
know that it is very rude to make someone wait
please return that helmet to us. It's priceless.”
in an elevator for so long, especially when it is
“We will,” said Kaitlyn with a little curtsy.
Then we turned and left the Greek Exhibit. As
completely unnecessary to do so. As Kaitlyn and
we exited the museum I wondered why only one
I exited, I hoped with all my might that that boy
room in the exhibit had windows. The mall was
would fall back into the swamp.
Now was probably going to be the most
directly across the street from the museum so
the walk should have been easy, but the
difficult part of our task. We had half an hour to
temperature had dropped from 24 degrees to 13
sneak around and inspect Classic Nails and
degrees (I know this because my watch has a
News Eagle for the helmet. If we didn't find it in
thermometer on it). What made it worse was the
half an hour, the mall would close and we would
dark. It was only five-thirty and the sun was
have to leave.
“We need to work fast,” Kaitlyn said as if
already completely set. We trudged through the
snow to the West Hills Mall, only stopping to wait
she was reading my mind.
“I agree,” I said, “ and I think we should
for a red light so we could cross Arduous
Avenue, which was the least arduous part of the
also split up.”
walk because there was little snow. Soon we
~ 12 ~
Persimmons are a fruit that I can only describe
“But how will we know when the other has
as disgusting. They are like tomatoes because
found it?” she asked.
they don't taste like they should be fruits and
“I have an idea,” I replied, walking into the
nearest store which happened to be Soundwave
they are like trolls because I don't ever want to
Electronics. I grabbed two large shopping bags
go near one. Stop thinking about fruits, you have
without being noticed and brought them back to
a job to do, I told myself.
I reached down to open the third cabinet.
Kaitlyn. “We will each keep one of these so that
if we find the helmet, we can just put it in the
Inside there was a small stack of magazines,
bag and pretend we just bought a laptop or
even more coffee mugs, and a large white box. I
something.”
thought for sure this box was where it was
hidden. I opened up the box to find… gum. They
“That's a great idea,” she said, smiling for
the first time since we met. Then we went our
must have had the most stale gum ever and I
separate ways. Kaitlyn went to Classic Nails and
couldn't believe they intended to sell the stuff. I
I went to News Eagle. In News Eagle they were
sifted through the box and found no helmet. I
selling more than newspapers and magazines
returned the box and closed the cabinet just in
(although they did have plenty of those). They
time to notice someone approaching me from
were selling candy, books, drinks, gum, flowers,
behind. I turned around to see Kaitlyn. There
stickers, and even coffee mugs. Unfortunately,
was something large in her bag.
everything was out in the open on racks and
“You found it?,” I asked.
shelves. There were only three cabinets in the
“I think so,” she replied. She opened the
room. The first one held extra coffee mugs. The
bag, using herself to hide the helmet from any
second held outdated editions of newspapers
watching eyes. The Spartan helmet, the real
and magazines. I closed the second cabinet and
one, rolled out. The gold plating would have
I was about to open the third when an elderly
once been very bright, but it had dulled with
lady walked back where I was. I stood up and
time. The red plumes on the top had lost their
acted interested in one of the newest editions of
full beauty, but the whole thing was still beautiful
the Chicago Tribune. The lady grabbed some
to me. There were blemishes here and there,
Chicago themed stickers from a rack next to me
like a white spot on the inside and some
and walked away. As soon as she walked away,
indentations on the back. I looked closer at the
I realized that I was actually interested in the
indentations and there seemed to be some
front page of the newspaper I was looking at.
words. The words were not very readable, but
The headline was “Mysterious Spartan Helmet
they were certainly not in Greek. I looked closer
Burglar Revealed?” and underneath was a
at the white spot. It looked like what was left of a
picture of someone who looked familiar as if I
price tag when someone didn't want their
had seen him very recently. The caption read
husband or wife to know how much the gift they
“Most clues suggest the work of Andrew
got them for their birthday cost. Or when they
Persimmon also known as Sabertooth”.
~ 13 ~
didn't want them to know there was a price tag
myself, this time it's not a mountain lion. This
at all.
time, it's a Sabertooth.
“This is a fake,” I said half heartedly.
Ryan
“No it’s not!” Kaitlyn protested.
“Look at those words, they're in English.
And look. Someone tried to remove a price tag.”
“Oh,” Kaitlyn said after a pause, “I didn't
notice.”
We sat in silence for a while. Then the
speakers said “Closing in five minutes. Please
exit.”
“I guess we just have to go tell Aibeecee
that we failed,” Kaitlyn said.
“Yeah,” I said, “it just doesn't seem right.”
“None of it seems right,” she agreed as we
got up and walked towards the elevators. We
stepped into an elevator and I tried to put it all
together. New windows, nail salons,
newspapers, disgusting fruits, and most of all, a
stolen fake helmet. I kept thinking as we got off
the elevator. I kept thinking as I bumped my way
Will
to the exit. I kept thinking as we walked down
the sidewalk to the intersection. But as we
crossed Arduous Avenue and started towards
the museum, something else caught my eye. A
figure sprinted through the museum parking lot
carrying something large wrapped in a white
towel. I looked closer at the bundle and saw that
it was helmet shaped. Then I looked closer at
the person and saw just before he got into his
off-white car, that his face belonged to both the
name of my least favorite fruit, and the first
seven letters of the alphabet.
“Screeeeeeech.” The car pulling out of the
opposite side of the parking lot made my least
favorite sound. There was no chalkboard, only
Julia
pavement and old tires. And this time, I told
~ 14 ~
Matthew
Scholastic Art Show~ Honorable Mention
~15~
Evan
A Doll’s Journey
Whoosh! My head falling back. My rope
hair flailing in the wind. My plush legs dangling
as I was taken away. Goodbye fellow friends,
goodbye fellow shelf, and goodbye- Oh hey, is
that the new Ken doll?
Beep, bleh, boop. The familiar sounds of the
cash register.
“Excuse me ma'am but can you go any
faster? I am, well, sort of in a rush.
You see, MY WIFE IS ABOUT TO GIVE
BIRTH!” said the man holding me.
As the cashier said into the speaker,
“price check, aisle-”
“I don't have time for this, keep the
change!!” again said the man holding me, while
simultaneously leaving a twenty dollar bill on the
counter.
A gust of wind pushed my rope hair
back once again. The cold air piercing my face.
As I turn my head, looking back at the store,
everything that I'd never see again. The man set
me down into some cylindric container; the scent
of his nearby coffee floated into my nose.. I sat
and I sat. Of course being myself I had no sense
of time besides lighting. It was very clearly
starting to get dark outside, those bright, white,
lights were hanging in the darkness above.
I heard the talking screen lady tell us
that we'd arrived at our destination. Goodness, I
thought, hours must have passed by now. Oh
no, the chilled air struck me again, but only for a
split second and then there was a blast of warm
air. I thought I knew where I was, that place
where they keep all the sick people. Ugh, you
can't imagine the smell in here. My pea sized
nostrils were disintegrating as I spoke.
Disinfectant, hand sanitizer, soap, bleach, toilet
cleaner; every cleaner you could imagine was
eating away at my fresh air. I had arrived in a
room, there was a woman lying down and a
bunch more people standing up around her in
aqua clothing. They kept repeating inspirational
words to the woman lying down.
“Keep breathing, you are almost there, a
few more!” The people in aqua clothing shouted.
The man holding me walked over to the
immobile women and said gently, “Here you go
Olivia, the doctors told me that focusing on
something like a doll, will help you very much in
this process.” This so called Olivia took me and
almost squeezed my guts out. Luckily it was only
for a few minutes, plus, I don’t have actual guts.
The population of the room cheered around the
same moment Olivia loosened her grip on me.
Now here comes the fairy tale part that the
Rapunzel doll in aisle 3 always told me about. A
beautiful baby girl named Raelyn was born. She
was quickly rushed off to intensive care when
she came out. The doctors never gave us a real
explanation, but said it was a common
procedure performed on 1 in 4 newborns. A few
days later, baby Raelyn returned, healthy as
normal. Her mom got to hold her and hug her;
unlike Rapunzel had told me, there was no
wicked witch that came to steal her for her own.
After this event I grew very fond of this family. I
assumed I would be living a great life, at least
that's what the returns told me.
The Cinder family drove home a few
days later and during the car ride, little baby
Raelyn made me dance around in the air. I
wasn’t dropped once and she was very gentle
holding me. We got home and I was placed in a
barred box along with others just like me. I
~ 16 ~
always knew I was baby Raelyn’s favorite
though. She took me to her playdates, she took
me to disney world and, me to her grandparents’
house. This of course was a very big honor, all
the toys wanted to have my glory spot, but baby
Raelyn never let that happen. It was a life
experience to watch her grow; it seemed like just
yesterday we were driving home from the
hospital. I got to see her first steps, her first
words, her first pretty much everything. It was
one of those things where you just had to be
there. She got to experience first times with me
too. Things like my first time getting lost or the
first time I had to get washed. I loved getting
washed. The beautiful smells I got washed in,
and the liquid they used to make my material, oh
so soft!
Surprisingly, I am still here, 4 years
later. I'll tell you straight up that the days of
drooling and teething were terrible. I swear baby
Raelyn wanted me decapitated, just so she
could cook me. On top of that, her drool was the
seasoning. The days I was lost were also pretty
bad. I ended up in the weirdest spots: in the
freezer, behind the toilet, and even somehow
(who even knows) in a frying pan!!! Those
childish things don't happen anymore though, it's
(not so baby) Raelyn’s 5th birthday and she got
many more toys than me today. I got pushed
under the bed with all the excitement of today.
The returns told me about this, the toy
graveyard. Toys like me weren't meant for this
place. I didn’t even look close to what they
looked like.
The toys in the graveyard were all
covered in some ugly, sticky, black substance,
that attacks them under her bed. I think I heard
baby Raelyn’s family talking about this. They
were all covered in this gray, fuzzy, black
substance, all walking closer and closer,
towards me. I found some other people looking
for a way out. They told me that the fuzzy black
stuff was a thing called mold. It ate the toys from
the outside, in. Olivia was suffering too, because
she had a severe allergy to mold which led to
her diagnosis of pneumonia. She got the
diagnosis right before Raelyn was born which
made Raelyn a miracle baby. All this depression
talk had given me even more inspiration to find a
way out, to see Raelyn, and maybe Olivia, one
last time.
It’s been three days now and no one
has come looking for me. I’m all alone. I am
currently in a corner, trying to avoid the strongly
odored mob of hungry zombie toys roaming
around. Have you ever heard you mom tell you
to clean under your bed? Well, it’s true, or you’ll
end up with a graveyard. Soon I will probably be
in one of those graves. “RAELYN, oh why don’t
you come looking for me? Do I mean nothing to
you? You are just going to let me be eaten
alive?!” It seemed like every hour, the zombie
toys would try and bring me into their world.
Every now and then, a pack of them would get
awful close and start to snarl viciously at me.
Sleeping was even harder than being awake. I’d
never know if I was going to wake up or not. I’ll
tell you now that it’s not a good feeling thinking
that you could lose everything in one night. After
a few more days went by, the attacks seemed to
be cutting closer and closer. With the attacks
being so often, I knew I wouldn’t be able to
survive much longer where I was. I had to find a
way out of this death hole. Luckily there was a
vent. I felt like Raelyn’s Sherlock Holmes doll
trying to figure out how to open it. I ended up
using a lost toothbrush as a wedge to unlatch
the vent cover.
I slipped through and slid down the
shaft. -DO NOT DO AT HOME- That was the
worst idea I had ever had. I was lost for days.
Months. Years. I had started making a map, the
vent shafts were now my strength. Of course
there was the occasional wanderer looking for a
way out, just as I was. One day I must have
taken a wrong turn, I was walking down a shaft
that was never recorded on my map. It was very
dusty, there was mold again on the wall too. It
reminded me of the graveyard and all the skills I
had learned there. Being very careful of where I
stepped, I followed it to the end; there were no
other entrances to this shaft. All I know is that
when I finally reached the end of the shaft, there
was a small opening. “My way out!” I shouted as
I peeked my head out. There was a new person
living here. No wait, do my eyes deceive me?
That was baby Raelyn. All grown up, getting into
a car with a Gucci brand purse. How long was I
~ 17 ~
in that vent? I thought to myself all that day. I
crawled up to the hole I was looking through and
shimmied my squishy body out. Thank mother
nature it was summer, I was able to find a nice
warm spot on the side of the house in a little
patch of blankets (or as the humans call them,
leaves).
The next day I woke up, the sun’s rays
stunning my eyes as they flickered open. Where
was I? I was no longer in my cozy patch of
blankets. I looked down. All the toys from the
graveyard, were beneath me. Brown walls to my
sides. Someone must have picked us up
because the cotton balls in the blue soup above
became out of focus. A different little girl that
wasn't baby Raelyn picked me up and started
shaking me.
“Do you like that one, Honey?” lovingly
said the owner of the beast. She was pulling my
hair and- oomph, my legs do not bend that way.
From what I saw from still being shook, the
owner gave Olivia some of that green paper stuff
and away I was going. She got farther and
farther. The worst part is that I haven't seen
baby Raelyn since. I was hoping this wasn’t
going to be the end. I prayed to see my family
again.
I could smell Gucci brand perfume. Of
course! Raelyn was walking straight towards me
with an angry look on her face. What had I ever
done. She was the one who lost me? More and
more phrases crossing my mind. I couldn’t put it
together.
“Excuse me? Where did you find that
doll? I know for a fact it wasn’t for sale.”
“It was in the $1.00 box clearly sitting on
the top,” firmly replied the beast's mother.
Without questioning, Raelyn ripped me out of
the little girl's hand and speed walked back up
the driveway into the house. There her dad was
on the phone.
“Okay, see you soon!” Before I knew it, I
was back at the home of sick people. Olivia was
lying in a bed just like I saw her last time, a long,
long time ago. Rushing in came the familiar
people in aqua clothing. Olivia’s hands once
again took me into her warm, comforting
embrace. There was that familiar squeeze! Her
face was the only thing different this time. Her
face was pale instead of glowing with joy, there
was a plain gaze lain upon her face instead of
and overstretched smile. Monitors everywhere
started to beep, and blare sound. Her grip
became limp. I could see Raelyn fall into her
father’s lap; she made the same screeching
sound she did as a baby in the barred box. What
was happening? I was yearning to know! Me
and Olivia moved throughout the hospital, into a
different room. Even more cords were hooked
up to her. I could feel her warm, comforting
hands becoming cold and lifeless. I was taken
out of Olivia’s relaxed grip and brought to
Raelyn and her father. As we approached I
could see the devastation on both of their faces.
“I hate to inform you, but the diagnosis
of pneumonia should have been taken more
seriously. When we told you it wasn’t very bad at
the moment, we also told you it did have a
chance to steer Mrs. Cinder’s life on a more
tragic path. I have acquainted the right to tell
you that your wife will not be returning and
neither will your baby. You must know that there
wasn’t much to do to keep this from happening,
and some people are more prone than others. I
wish you good thoughts and hope that you don’t
dwell on the past. We will have someone meet
with you soon. Remain here and you may take a
seat.”
From this day on, I have never spent a
day apart from Raelyn. She makes sure she
always knows where I am and that I am in
proper care. Raelyn and her dad are doing just
fine now. They got a dog and a cat that even get
along. Raelyn named the dog Holly in sake of
what the baby was going to be called. The dog
was friendly, full of energy and has amazing
manners; this is all the things Raelyn had hoped
her little sister would be. Raelyn’s father named
the cat Lulu after his beloved wife. The cat was
gentle, soothing, and had a unique personality;
just like all the things Olivia was. Her dad
promised to never remarry, as no one could take
the place of Olivia. The Cinder family has been
recovering marvelously and I hope they continue
to do so. I really hope the best for them.
~ 18 ~
Amaya
The Top of the Arch
The shock set in and hit me like a gust of wind, and it blew me away from my safe
little world. I have cancer.
"Alyson? Are you okay sweetie?" The child psychologist asked, her brow furrowed in
concern. I have cancer. Then the tears started to come. They streamed down my face in thick
rivers and flowed onto the hospital bed I hadn't moved from for the past week. I cried for the
pain I'd felt for months, not quite knowing what was wrong. I cried for my parents and all
they must have been going through. I cried for my sister, knowing that now she had to deal
with the burden too. I cried for my friends, the ones that had always been there for me, and
the ones I knew would leave me when they found out. But most of all I cried because even
though I knew there was something wrong with me, I had begun to hope, and that hope being
crushed is the worst feeling I could have ever imagined. I have cancer.
"Oh Alyson, it will be okay sweetie, you have so much strength, you can get through
this little rough patch."
Despite her kind words all I could think about was that I didn't have the strength, and
how would I ever get through this little rough patch? The tears kept coming as the pain, and
the heartache still swarmed around me like angry wasps trying to infect my happiness. I will
never be normal again, this will never get easier, !just want it all to stop. After a few more
consoling words the child psychologist left, and I was left alone to wallow in my own misery.
My parents had left earlier for a meeting with my doctors, most likely bearing the same
horrific news. That was okay, though, I really just wanted to be alone. My world had been
flipped upside down and inside out like some sort of twisted and messed up roller coaster. My
eyes started to shut from the exhaustion of it all, of knowing I have cancer.
I woke up to the soft click of my hospital room's door. My parents walked in quietly
and saw that I was awake. They started towards my bed and sat down. Their eyes were
rimmed with tears but they tried to hide their sadness and, I realized, fear. "How are you
honey?" My mom said her voice filled with emotion. I realized that I didn't know the answer.
How did I feel? I guessed that I would soon find out.
After I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia I had to go to the hospital
once a week for chemotherapy treatments. This part of my treatment was probably the hardest
because the medication took such a toll on me. I would come home feeling like my stomach
was about to explode from pain, and my head constantly hurt with a sharp throbbing, as if
someone was hitting my head with a hammer over and over. At some points I could barely
walk, and I couldn't run without embarrassingly falling on my face. I lost all of my hair and
had to wear hats to cover my head. My family, friends, and doctors were there through it all
and I couldn't have thanked them enough. There were times when it was hard to stay positive,
cancer isn't something that you can easily go through with no shredded tears, but I didn't want
people to see me give up. I resolved after my breakdown at the hospital that I would fight. I
would fight for everything that was worth fighting for. I made it to maintenance, the back half
of my treatment, which felt like a huge victory. I had reached the turning point, where I could
reflect on my journey so far and I knew I could make it through the entire experience. I'm
proud to say that now I'm 2 and a half years cancer free and no longer have to take
medication.
~ 19 ~
My journey through cancer came in stages, much like the bend of an arch. The view
from the top was beautiful, but it was a struggle to get there. My journey up the St. Louis
Arch really connects to the kind of experience my treatment was.
One summer vacation my family was taking a road trip to the Ozarks, and we
stopped in St. Louis along the way. I was so excited because I had always wanted to go to
the top of the St. Louis Gateway Arch. So, my family and I waited in a long line that
extended all the way outside the visitor's center, to go through security. It was extremely
hot outside, with record high heat, but I didn't really care. I was more excited about the
prospect of making it to the tip top of the bend of gleaming silver steel. My family and I
made it through security to wait in yet another line. This line took much less time and soon
we were herded into a separate room with a big group of people, where we learned about
the history behind the beautiful and massive piece of artwork. We were given a card
labeled blue 8 and when they finally called the blue group we were brought into a room to
watch a short video. When the video ended the small doors in front of all the people
opened with a whoosh and the people who had already been up came out through them.
We were told to go through our designated doors so my family went through door 8. The
tiny pod we climbed into could barely fit our family. The entire pod was white, with one
window so you could see the inside of the arch as you went up. Five stools were crammed
into the pod and soon my family was sitting on them. The doors shut quickly with a rush
of air and the tiny pod lurched sideways.
We started to move first lateral then slowly adjusted the course up towards the top.
The ride was bumpy and every so often the pod was jostled around. I started to grow
panicked as the ride stretched longer. I had never been claustrophobic, but I had the strong
urge to get out of that
tiny space. So many what-ifs crowded my brain. What if this pod falls of its hinges, what if
we
get stuck up here, what if I die trapped in this little tiny pod? I tried to calm my thoughts
and look like the picture of peacefulness but my dad and sister saw through the facade.
"Look, Alyson, you can see the inside of the arch through this window," my
dad said.
"Yeah that's so cool!" I replied, but looking out the window just gave me
vertigo. "Alyson, are you okay?" asked Kelsey, my sister.
" Yeah, I'm totally fine."
Finally, we reached the top and climbed out of the little pod that had made me
claustrophobic. And the view was beautiful. Looking from one side of the arch you could
see the whole city. My dad pointed out the hotel we were staying in. The buildings gleamed
in the hot summer sunlight and little people the size of ants walked the streets. From the
other side you could see the Mississippi River and all of the bridges extending across it. It
was so magnificent that I could have spent forever there, just taking it all in. And as I stared
out the window I could see the side of the arch I came up and remembered the journey to
this point. How difficult it had seemed, but so worth the struggle.
Then it was time to leave, and though I loved the view and dreaded the journey
back down, I knew it was time to go. So we boarded the pods again for the journey
down. The ride seemed to go quicker and it was much less bumpy.
My journey through treatment was much like my journey up the arch. The little pod
~ 20 ~
was like my hope, sure it got jostled and bumped on the way to maintenance, but the fight
was worth it once I made it. Then my hope was made stronger as I descended from
maintenance. All types of journeys come in stages, whether they are good or bad, but the
hope and determination you gain from them are the most important things to hold on to.
Alyson
Simi
~ 21 ~
Vengeance on Persia
Introduction
When I entered the Spartan camp, I saw
three men training against a great Spartan. I
walked over to the queen, (King Leonidas’s
wife.) After her hearing about his death at the
battle of Thermopylae, her heart was filled with
sorrow. A Spartan had to be strong, show no
fear, and no mercy. But it was clear, the sorrow
hovering over her face.
After a long talk with the queen, I finally said
“I will be leading Greece, and I need Sparta to
join, give us your ships, and we'll make Xerxes
wish he never destroyed Athens.” “That is your
dream, but we stay here, and fight for Sparta,
she said.” “Very well, I said. But just before I left,
I said “King Leonidas, and the brave 300, they
didn't die in vain, it just gave us hope, Avenge
Him,” and walked out of the camp.
Part 1
Recruiting the Navy
It begins as a whisper….a whisper... To
those who were brave. To those who pledged no
mercy. And the whisper comes from the bravery
trapped in you…. That waits to be freed.
I, Themistocles, I am leading Greece to
battle the Persians, the threat to Greece. And
still, the wars rage on. Every day, hundreds die.
And the only threat that we be doing, is ripping
our democracy in half. The Spartans sacrificed
300 men. But they held them off well. The loss
of 300 Spartans was tragic, but it gave us all
hope. And our battle plan was ready. The only
way to Athens was to cross the sea. But we
retreated to Salamis.
While the Spartans held off the
Persians, we built 180 Athenian ships, and had
some help. We were aided with 40 from Corinth,
30 from Aegina, 20 from Chalcis, 20 from
Megara, 16 from Sparta, 15 from Sicyon, 10
from Epidaurus, 7 from Eretria, 7 from Ambracia,
5 from Troezen, 4 from Naxos, 3 from Leucas, 3
from Hermione, 2 from Styra, 2 from Cythnus, 2
from Ceos, 2 from Melos, one from Siphnos, one
from Seriphus, and one from Croton. But there
was one problem; my men were feared from
Xerxes wrath. After hearing that the Spartans
died from a rain of arrows, we retreated to
Salamis. Later Persians invaded Athens, and
burned our city down. We were ready…ready for
Vengeance .
My time was now. All the men have
gathered on the ship. The waves were rocking
the boat wildly. I sighed.
“My brothers. Steady your heart. Look
deep into your souls. For your mettle is to be
tested this day. If in the heat of battle you need a
reason to fight on, you need only to look at the
man who fights at your side. This is the way of
battle. This is the brotherhood of men in arms.
An unbreakable bond made stronger by the
crucible of combat. You will never be closer than
with those who you shed your blood with. For
there is no nobler cause than to fight for those
who will lay down their life for you. So you fight
strong today. You fight for your brothers. Fight
for your families. Most of all, you fight for
Greece!!!”
AAAAAWOOOH! AAAAA OOOOH!
AAAAWOOH!
That moment, I could see the men were
pumped up. The men below started to row. We
had archers on every ship, stretching their
arrows into position. And the waves were just an
advantage for us.
Part 2
Two for One
As Salamis disappeared in the stormy
fog, we lit the lanterns. The fog was left behind
around Salamis. Ahead were just huge waves
and a drizzle of mist. A few minutes later a
ginormous ship arose from the the wave. Xerxes
Navy has arrived. There were ships as big as
houses. Our ships were small, but we had a
~ 22 ~
strategy. Then as the wave settled down, and
started up again, there was a huge army behind
the head ship. The massive ships only covered
the sky with their pitch black sails. The seagulls
had no reason to resume hunting for crumbs at
the scene, so the hunting for gore had arrived.
“Ha, those are what we're up against,”
Artemisia said.
“Your highness, the Greeks are furious,
and shouldn't be underestimated,” a man said.
Below the decks of the boats, were slaves
working on rowing the boats. Men would whip
them, so they could work harder. There were
more blood and scars on their backs, than skin.
“Commander, I give you the Navy, and
this battle will be your victory,” Artemisia
enforced.
“Yes, my Queen,” he answered
nervously.
“And you know your punishment?” she
asked while putting her right hand on her sword
handle. He nodded.
We knew Persia’s naval secret. Their
ships were stronger at the front, but weaker in
the middle. So all we had to do was to smash
them at the middle.
The Greek ships were formed in a
massive defense circle. The outer layer were the
Greeks strongest, men, and ships. The inner
layer was the Greeks weaker men.
The Greek ships emerged from the
waves. Everyone was ready. This would be a
victory, or getting murdered brutally. And then, I
gave the signal. “Attack!”
When the Persian ships started to
appear closer, we steered the ship around, and
dodged. The Greek men started to thrust their
spears across at the Persians fleet. The Persian
archers started to take aim. As they shot, most
of the arrows hit flesh. A soldier got shot in his
left arm, where his joint was. But he didn't show
any pain, he took his spear, and thrusted it
straight at an archer's head.
I took my spear and threw it across. The
spear injected the wood of the ship.
Here was a ship coming straight for us.
“Ram them!” I yelled.
The Persian faces were worried with
confusion. It was two against one. Two Greek
ships on either side were heading straight for the
the middle of a Persian naval ship. We headed
straight in, and then smash! We flooded the ship
with water, and Persians bailed into the sea.
“Reverse!” I ordered. We reversed the
ship, and the Persian ship sunk on its side. The
Persian ships were all black stained wood,
which made it hard to notice where the slaves
were. The front of the Greek ships had metal
clamped into the wood, which helped us ram the
ships. He then charged one more time, and the
ship burst into two and sank.
Artemisia was confused. “Let them have
this war,” she said. She commanded the ships
back. Later, the commander was chained up
and thrown overboard.
The Athenians returned to Salamis with
victory and hope. The battle was their win. That
night as the Greeks filled their blood with
strength, Themistocles sent out a Greek spy to
capture information about the next attack.
Part 3
The Eastern Horror
The Captive was brought chained up to
Artemisia’s “throne”. The guards stepped away
and let Artemisia talk.
“They say you are the bravest of the
captives in Greece,” Artemisia says.
“And they say you're the horror of the
eastern seas,” the captive responds.
“Well, not the smartest,” she says.
“Your commander is a Greek, just like
me...Persian men taking orders from a Greek
woman,” the captive says to all.
“Yes, my brother, my birth by Greek,
and I have Greek blood running through my
veins, but my heart is Persian,” she says as she
then thrusts her knife at his neck and ran
straight through to the other side. The corpse fell
onto the wood deck, spilling blood everywhere.
Artemisia handed the knife over to a
man, and he put it away. But then, she glimpsed
at the spy.
“You,” she said at the spy. He looked
down with confidence as she nodded him over.
He walked over. “Do you agree that he deserved
to die?” she asked.
~ 23 ~
He continued to look down. “No, nobody
does,” the spy answered.
“It's very unlikely that a ship guard would
lower his eyes when questioned by me,” she
said. She grabbed his arms. “A man's arms
never lie, that could reveal all their secrets,” she
said. “You see, I know every man under my
lash, can you explain to me how I don't know
you?” she asked him.
“My apologies, let me introduce myself,” he
said as he bowed. He took out his sword and
slashed at the men behind him. He then threw
the sword at Artemisia, but she dodged. He ran
towards the edge of the ship, and dived in the
stormy ocean water.
“He's a coward,” she told the men.
Part 4
The Ambush
The ocean was calm that morning, not a
single wave. But, this time, the war couldn’t go
on for any longer. Persians fleet were rowing
this way. Since there were no waves to support
the ships, it was extra hard for the Persian
slaves to row. The fog was dense, and blinding,
for all the men. The persons were going into
battle blind, and with no strategy. As the
Persians rowed farther and farther, a canyon of
rocks started to appear. The leading ship, with
the second arm commander was the first to see
the canyon. The two ships on his sides didn't
see the boulders, and rammed straight to
Greeks advantage. A second later, the other
ship on the left crashed. As the leading ship
continued forward, the commander saw two
Greek ships positioned as a two layer barricade.
“Brace yourselves!” the commander
yelled.
The Persian naval ship crashed straight
into the barricade. The ship jumped up and was
stuck facing up. And then, the Greeks attacked.
There were Greek warriors were on each side of
the canyon, at the very top, jumping down
charging at the ship. And then, they jumped. I
was the first who was noticed on the wreckage,
then the rest of the fleet. The Greeks stabbed
their way through and towards the commander.
It was only the commander left and two
bodyguards. I walked straight past the two
bodyguards. The two went for the other Greeks.
I kicked the commander, and he smacked
against the wood sail post. He got up, and then I
executed him.
That night, the Greeks returned to
Salamis. The next day would be a crisis, but
everyone but me was confident. But then, the
spy returned to Salamis. The night watch guard
informed me and brought him to me. The spy
gave me Intel about what the Persians were
going to do and the captive’s death. After I heard
about the captive, I was furious. The captive was
a member of the Assembly that was now
broken. It was floating in the air, in ashes.
Earlier that morning, the camp was up,
and ready. I was ready to give inspiration in the
last remaining men, and admit his errors.
“Today we’ll face the monster that had
caused this shadow. I was praying that the
Spartans would come and give us a hand,
perhaps they feel like they have given enough,” I
said.
“You failed us! This is all your fault, Mr.
Themistocles,” a solider said.
“We should've initiated with the Persians
when we had the chance,” another soldier said.
“You are all right...Yes, I know, it’s my
fault I didn’t kill King Darius.” We are
tradesmen…we are boys who turned to men
through the sacrifice...born with combat...I
played a dangerous game….and I lost...If you
choose to turn your back on me, on your
country, I will not judge you. You are free to
leave. You are still free men.” Everybody was
silently thinking you could hear nothing else but
the lit lamps sounding in the breeze. The flame,
resisting smoke, just like the men, on their
country. “Very well, I said.” I lifted my arm in the
air.
“AWOOH! AWOOH! AWOOH!”
“Let us put our shoulders to work and
free Greece. Today is a preimage to call our
own, astory that will be told for thousands of
years. Let our final stands be recorded to the
histories. And let it be shown that we chose to
die on our feet, than live on our knees.”
~ 24 ~
Part 5
Death to the Greek Queen
As we sailed off again, we knew that this
would be our last stand. We stood no chance
without Sparta. Their naval forces were far
stronger than ours. The waves were calm today,
and the sun had just begun to rise. With the last
remaining ships we had, we entered the battle
sea with no strategy, and just hope. We have
now sailed closer to Persia. We could see a cliff
behind the ships, and that's where Xerxes was.
That leader of the naval forces was Artemisia,
with the biggest ship. We got closer, and then
we thrusted out our spears.
Our ships crashed into the Persians,
and we jumped on to the fight. As the men ran
on in two straight lines, I walked through the
middle inspiring them to not give up. I then came
up and jumped on a horse.
“Let us send our souls to heaven!” I
yelled. It was insane, but the water wasn't very
deep. I took out my sword, and the horse sped
off. Through the fighting Persians, against the
Greeks, I slashed as I rode by. My goal was to
reach Artemisia and make her surrender to me.
Then the horse jumped a gap between ships. I
saw Artemisia. The horse jumped on to a
burning ship, and dashed through. The horse
jumped on to her ship. I then jumped off, and
slashed in mid-air. Artemisia was at the very
back. And then I heard her.
“I will not be a witness!!” I ran to the
noise and saw her pull out two swords. She
started slashing violently. The Greeks were
perishing, quickly. I dashed at her and dodged
some spears and swords on the way. There
were two heavy armored immortals which were
doing a number on my men.
I then slashed, but her bodyguard
blocked it. I quickly kicked his right leg, and
slashed. He fell to the ground. Artemisia noticed,
and slashed two swords at me. I dodged one, as
well as the other. Just then we were face to
face. I slashed, she blocked it. And then two
men jumped from behind. They were Persians of
course. I dodged a slash, and thrusted. The
blade went through one's body. I ripped my
sword out, and he fell to the ground. I charged at
the immortals. Both had two swords. I kicked
one, and slashed his leg. That immortal fell, and
then i blocked the other two blades. I then
slashed at his neck, and he fell over. It was me
and Artemisia now.
She charged at me slashing. I kept
blocking. We then ended up into a sword push
block. And just then, the miracle came. Far out
east, the Spartan navy was joining the battle.
Artemisia stared at the ships. I then kicked her in
the chest, and she flew back with her swords
dropping out from her grasps.
“Order your army back and surrender to
me!” I yelled pointing the blade at her. She
looked down at the the sword on her right and
lightly lunged. I stopped her.
“That will be a poor choice, forcing my
hand into action,” I said. She lunged anyway, but
I slashed. She fell down, dead.
The Spartan ships crashed into the
Persian. They all jumped off and onto the
Persian. Slashing and stabbing. The queen was
in front, leading the Spartans. I joined the queen,
and we battled the Persians.
Part 6
The Retreat
That following day, Xerxes retreated
with the army behind him and returned to Persia.
For Greece, Greece was celebrating their
victory. For Sparta, Sparta leant a big hand.
Leonidas will never be forgotten.
“It begins as a whisper…..The Greek
ships from Salamis...were laying down in the
harbor...sunken, and wrecked. But this war...will
change Greek history forever...but that
bravery...will forever be kept in the depths of
Salamis. Only in use when future heroes need it.
Safe from the world. Safe from the monsters
within...Xerxes.”
~ 25 ~
Edward
The Tube
“Hello? Quincy? It's Madge. I need you to get over here as soon as possible. When you arrive
knock on the back door three times, if I don't answer in exactly two minutes time let yourself in. Don't tell
anyone, okay Quince? Please hurry!”
Quincy hung up the phone with a groan. If she was planning yet another trick he was going to
lose it! Three times this month she had left a voicemail with the same false urgency in her voice, “Quick
Quince, I'm stuck in the old cellar at Benny’s!” or “Hurry old pal I'm tucked away beneath the floorboards
at Sally’s place!” and worst of all, “Quince! I'm sitting in my window and lookin’ out what do you reckon I
see? Why you’ll never guess it, there's a couple of burglars breakin’ through Old man Ford’s door! You
outta call someone for me!” Every time she called he’d go tearing down the street only to find her sitting
on her rickety old porch swing that was just about as old as the town, and humming a tune with a big grin
on her face. She’d laugh and laugh and then invite him in, they’d sit at the table and drink orange juice
while eating whatever she had in the cupboard.
This time was different, when he got there she wasn't on the porch swing. Following her
instructions, he knocked three times, counted the seconds that led to minutes, and let himself in.
Cautiously he made his way to the kitchen and saw no sign of his dear friend. A pit was forming inside his
stomach now. His eyes were then drawn to the cellar door like a moth to a light, he didn't know why but
he just couldn’t resist. He opened the door and peered down the dark flight of stairs, “Madge?” He called.
Slowly descending the stairs a door was brought to his attention. It had light spilling out of all places
where the door didn't quite meet the frame as if an experiment was occurring. Taking a deep breath, he
opened it.
“Quince!” Madge looked up from the papers sprawled carelessly around her. Quincy looked her
up and down; from her messy ponytail that was hardly holding on to her strawberry blonde hair to her
sleepless sunken in face, then from her dirtied overalls and work boots to the hammer she was firmly
holding in her hand. Anyone who had seen Madge Hillman on more than one occasion knew that the only
thing out of the ordinary would be if her overalls weren’t dirty.
“Madge you need to tell me what's going on. Now.” Quincy made his way to the workbench and
peered over her shoulders. Eyes wide with confusion and curiosity he sifted through the blueprints,
diagrams, letters, and sketches.
“What, on Earth, are you building down here Madge?” He asked skimming through a letter from a
few months ago.
“Come with me, I’ll show you!” Madge exclaimed beaming. Grabbing his arm she lead him to a
set of double doors, opened them, and stepped inside.
~ 26 ~
“It's, it’s a tube? You called me down for a tube? Madge I am sick and tired of you tr-” Quincy
yelled as he saw the contraption behind the doors.
“Quincy, please just listen, this ‘tube’ is more than you could even imagine! It's capable of
something no one has ever been able to do Quince! Just trust me on this one,” Madge pleaded trying to
explain her great invention. “Would you like to try?”
“What would I be trying?” Quincy asked turning to face her slightly alarmed.
”It’s an elevator of sorts, except, it goes farther than anyone has ever gone before,” she told him
gazing at the elevator admiringly. “I found a way to make it go,” she paused, “to the center of the Earth.”
Quincy jumped and turned to her.
“Madge, I do not appreciate all these games you play on me! There is absolutely no way this
could possibly go to the center of the Earth!” He exclaimed angrily.
”Quincy please I'm not making this up, believe me, please!” She begged.
“No,” Quincy said shaking his head, “this is just a sick joke to you, it always is! You drag me here
and expect me to believe you tunneled to the center of the Earth within a few days! It's ridiculous! What
do you take me as total fool?”
“Quincy, please, it's not like that at all! I have been working on this for years! If you would just let
me show you-” Madge told him desperately wanting the support and understanding of her friend.
“Madge, honestly, I can't do this anymore! I'm going home.” He said sternly, “Oh, and don't call
me anymore!” Exclaimed Quincy as he burst out of the room. Madge tried to catch him begging him to try
and understand but it was to no avail, he was out of the house and halfway down the road in ten seconds
flat. There in her kitchen where they had often talked and laughed she did something no one, not even
her best friend Quincy Elm had ever seen her do. That night, she cried.
The machine stuttered to life, looking around the young man sees a girl, she has a smile on her
face and directs him to the tube-like structure. Climbing in he notices how small it feels. As the doors
close the girl waves goodbye with an evil look on her face. The machine drops and down he goes,
becoming nauseous as it speeds up faster and faster. After only seconds of freefall the machine jerks to a
halt, the heat and pressure is undeniable now, it feels as if thousands of tons are crushing down on him
and the heat is comparable to being burned alive. A suit pops down from the ceiling and he puts it on,
immediately the pressure and heat subside. The doors open and he seesQuincy woke up in a cold sweat. He had woken up from a terrible nightmare! He had dreamt
about what it would be like in Madge's machine, he needed to call her! When she picked up he got right to
the point, “Madge? I'm coming over to your house right now; I need to see what this machine does and
how it works, okay?” He said as he got dressed.
“Okay Quince.” Is all she said before hanging up. When he got to her house he went straight to
the cellar and through the doors coming to a stop when he reached the tube. Madge asked him about his
change of heart and he explained his dream to her, the movement of the tube, the girl who strikingly
looked like Madge and the suit. She listened and nodded until he was finished and said, “Quince you're
~ 27 ~
right, that is exactly how it works,”then she asked, “would you go down with me?” Quincy hesitated but
agreed, his curiosity getting the best of him.
Unlike his dream they put on the suits first, the rest was exactly the same(besides the fact that
Madge was in the elevator with him) as they went down the heat and pressure increased even though
they couldn't feel it. When the machine was jerked to a stop they locked eyes, mixtures of fear and
excitement all around. The doors opened and they stepped out, “Are we really in the core?” Quincy asked
amazed.
”Yes, we are!” Madge replied excited her machine worked.
“I'm pretty sure the inner core is supposed to be solid.” Quincy said gazing around, there was
what appeared to be a cave for miles. It was as if someone or something had carved out the area, which
was nearly impossible because the core is made out of solid metals and the pressure is too immense.
“We are definitely in the core!” Madge yelled from back inside the tube, “It says we have traveled
6,400 kilometers, so we are right in the middle of it!” She told him.
“Then what on Earth made this opening?” He asked her.
“Quince,” she said “I don't think they’re from Earth!” She exclaimed pointing at a figure in the
distance. It was traveling extremely quick, inhumanly fast. “GET TO THE TUBE,” she yelled, “NOW!”
They ran to the tube and the door slid shut, only milliseconds later they heard a bone crushing slam near
the front of the tube, than another, and another, and another, all from different sides. Minutes went by so
the friends opened the doors once more. Standing in front of them were four silver creatures! They had
thin tall structures, long bony arms and legs, fingers that were as long as rulers, eyes that were far too
close together, tiny mouths, and strangest of all, their skin was moving! Their skin was like liquified metal,
silver and flowing, but yet, somehow, their bodies were completely solid (unlike liquid metal). One of the
creatures raised a finger and the pair were knocked out.
When they awoke their bodies ached terribly. Upon opening their eyes they saw hundreds of the
creatures staring at them from what appeared to be a stadium. Bright lights shone on them making their
eyes squint and blur.
”We have to get out of here!” Quincy whispered to Madge, they attempted to sit up but found
themselves bounded to the surface they were laying on.
”What do we do?” She whispered back in panic. There was nothing they could do, the creatures
had them trapped. They were now hostages, helpless, defenseless, terrified, hostages. The worst part?
No one would ever be able to save them, at least they thought.
Some sort of ritual began that included a lot of sounds similar to monkey screeches, at that
moment the hostages realized their captors mouths widened like a howler monkey’s when they “talked”.
They decided if they ever made it out of the ritual alive they would refer to the extraterrestrials as
“Howlers”. The Howlers danced around their helpless bodies, provided what appeared to be sacrifices,
and poked and prodded them with various tools. Eventually, when they got bored, the floor beneath
Quincy and Madge dropped leaving them in a cold, dark, cell.
~ 28 ~
They were in the middle of gnawing at each other's ropes when a Howler came into their cell and
sat down. Immediately they scooted away in fear when they noticed a knife of sorts in the Howlers hand.
”They’re going to kill us Quince!” Madge whispered burying her face in his arm. Then the Howler
grabbed them by their ropes and started cutting away the material! They were free! The Howler opened
the door and led them out of the dungeon. They emerged into a bustling city full of the creatures, they all
appeared to be the same, same appearance, height, and voice. The buildings were abstract and silver
while the vehicles were like floating cardboard boxes. Billboards were covered in swirling designs, their
language perhaps. One Howler caught sight of Quincy and Madge and screamed something that made
the whole city stop, then, like a flood, the Howlers rushed towards Quincy and Madge.
Their savior lifted them into one of the vehicles and they shot through the air, away from all of the
commotion.
”Something tells me we weren't supposed to be rescued!” Madge yelled to Quincy.
”You think?” He yelled back laughing sarcastically. Before they knew it their beloved tube was in
sight.
”How do we thank a creature who doesn't understand our language?” Quincy asked Madge
glancing at the Howler.
”By not kidnapping him to experiment on?” She suggested humorously. They jumped out of the
vehicle and entered the tube. To their surprise the Howler did not wait outside, he came into the tube with
them, so up they went, one Quincy, one Madge, and one Howler.
Back on the surface they pondered on what to do with their hitchhiker. He proved to be very good
with tools, so Madge put him to work as her personal assistant and spy. Quincy made special cameras
and data collectors to withstand the heat and pressure so data and footage could be collected of the
Howlers. Being called Howler didn't suit their companion so his name (chosen from a list by himself) was
changed to Frederick. Madge was such a great inventor she created a machine to translate his noises
into English, which proved very handy when they sent him to gather information.
They made annual trips to the “Habitat of the Howlers” as it was newly referred to until they had
enough information to present to the government and general public on their discovery. As soon as they
alerted the government that it was possible to travel to the center of the Earth officials were at their door
wanting to see the contraption. It wasn't until they found out there were living species of extraterrestrial
background down there did they become worried. The officials began starting rumors that the discovery
was fake to keep the public calm and at ease. When Madge and Quincy introduced Frederick to the
officials they threatened to capture and experiment on him. Quincy immediately took Frederick into hiding
to protect the most valuable source of information they had.
The government stole some of their documents and samples along with video footage and
pictures. They did everything in their power to make the discovery disappear. Since Quincy and Frederick
were on the run Madge had to work extra hard to make up for the lost information. She couldn't keep up.
A few years later a fire started in the cellar of her house, destroying everything except the tube. Fire
~ 29 ~
fighters said it was a lamp that overheated and burst into flames, but Madge knew for a fact there were no
lamps in her cellar. She had put her whole life into the Howlers and now it was all ash and dust. Madge
caught up with Quincy and Frederick not too far from their small hometown, convinced them to come with
her for one last adventure, and wound up facing the tube once more.
”Are you guys ready?” She asked gazing at her dear friends. They nodded, the doors opened and
they stepped inside. Back into the place where their lives had changed forever, back to where they all
truly met each other, back to where it all began. This time they weren’t going to leave.
Greta
Greta
Olivia
Scholastic Art Show~Honorable Mention
~ 30 ~
Short, Simple, Sweet Poems
“Waterfall”
Just like a waterfall
We let the words flow
They sprayed your skin
And left me numb
Soon we were left drowning
And we forgot to bring the life jackets
“Nothing”
We can't have rainbows without rain
Or stars without dark
At least that's what people say
But I say we should stop
And smell the rain
And wander in the dark
Because one day they might not be there
Then what will we have?
“Reality”
When I was young I didn't know reality
I wanted to be an astronaut and live among
the stars
I wanted to kiss a frog and live happily ever
after with my prince
I wanted to fly with Peter Pan all the way to
Neverland
I never wanted to grow up
But I did
I never touched the stars
I never found my prince
I never traveled to Neverland
Instead I lived the life I had to
And I hated it
“Innocent”
“Together”
They said we went together like
Campfires and marshmallows
Stars and the night
But what they failed to realize was that
Sometimes fires die out
And stars do too
You paint the white roses red
You splatter the snow blood
You cover the walls with lipstick
The world was always too innocent for you
Ruby
~ 31 ~
Modern Day Muslim
It's harder than you would think.
As a child, you believe that what you were taught is what everyone is taught. When you first start
going to school, your parents explain that you are different than the people at school and you shouldn't
talk about it at school because it might offend people. Then when you're a bit older, they tell you about
9/11 and you think now everyone will hate your people. At this time, it's best you don't tell people until
they ask.
To be a Muslim, you have to be peaceful and humble about yourself. You should allow people to have
a free will, as Allah (Muslim name for God) gave us. I am a Muslim, but I am proud. I'm not as arrogant
about it as the terrorists may sometime act, but that's because they aren't real Muslims in my opinion.
ISIS and other organizations are not full of Muslims. They are simply people who believe all people
who aren't Muslim are enemies and that we should get rid of them. Islam means peace in Arabic, but
terrorists are making us seem like we promote violence. This is one of the fallacies that makes me the
most upset. Many times, I hear people on media making fun of Islam in every way possible. In French
class, we talk about the Paris attacks, and I feel so bad for every person victimized by the people of my
culture. But the way they treat the Muslims there, like by making women not be allowed to wear their
hijabs, and shutting down masjids; it's also not the right way to act. Sometimes, it gives me the slightest
bit of shame to be a part of the Muslim community because of the way they think we are.
But the guilt goes away. I deal with it by remembering that I'm part of one of the most oppressed
religions in the past. Our prophet, Muhammad, dealt with much more than us. But he managed to make it
out because Allah is on his side. So that's what I believe. Allah is testing us to see if we will withstand all
of this and still be on his side. That's the reason I don't get mad when people say mean things about
Muslims and the fact that I'm a Muslim. It strengthens me to be more tolerant. It strengthens me to be a
better Muslim.
Ameena
~ 32 ~
Kelsey
~ 33 ~
Villains
What if all the villains that you ever knew rebelled against the heroes and tried to change the
stories...........?
"Lacey, I’m ready.” her sister called.
"Coming," she replied.
When she got into her room she asked her, "So, what are we reading tonight?"
"Snow White," Sarah replied excitedly.
"Again? You know the story isn't going to change every time you read it."
"I know. That's why I like it,” Sarah said as she carefully opened the storybook that had been in
her family for generations. It had almost every fairytale that you could ever think of and some other ones
too. Lacey loved it because it had its own special twist to each tale. “Come on, start reading!” said Sarah
impatiently. The moment she saw the first page she knew something was wrong. The characters of the
Evil Queen and Snow White were switched, along with all the other characters. “Something’s wrong
Sarah,” she said. Sarah peered at the book.
“What happened?!” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll check the other stories.” The sight was definitely not the one they wanted to see.
All the other stories had the same problem. Sarah and Lacey checked all the other Disney storybooks
they had in their house and they had the heroes and villains switched too. That meant that the villains
would get the happy endings instead of the heroes.
“Mom, Mom!” Sarah called as they ran to show her the problem.
“What is it?” their mom said.
“Look, all the stories have changed!” Lacey exclaimed.
“Honey, nothing has changed. Now both of you need to go to bed. Goodnight.”
**********
“I want to thank everyone here for helping this be possible. This is what ALL of us deserve.”
Cheers rang up from the crowd.
“We should be thanking you, Your Majesty.” said a voice out of the mob of villains.
“This has been a complete success and I would especially like to thank Ursula for the marvelous
idea of the story change being invisible to the parents,” said the Evil Queen, “And don’t forget, by 12:00
tonight we will be permanently be sent to our happy ending and those happy go lucky ‘heroes’ will be sent
to their permanent suffering.” she said as all the villains’ evil laughter echoed of the brick castle walls.
Every antagonist from every fairy tale that you have ever known was in that room. The most
powerful one of them all, the Evil Queen, cast an enchantment that would switch all the roles of the
character so that the villains would get their happy ending while all the other characters
got the opposite.
**********
“Why can’t mom see it?” asked Sarah.
“I don’t know, but we have to figure out what is going on,” Lacey replied. They looked for through
the whole story for clues and they found nothing until they got to the last page.
**********
“Lacey, Lacey! Where are you?” Sarah exclaimed.
~ 34 ~
“The question is where are we?” Lacey replied. They were both lying on a smooth floor, in a long
hallway with brick walls, much like the room that the villains were gathered in that very moment. “Okay,”
said Lacey, “The first steps of figuring out where we are are to recall what just happened. So, we were
looking for clues in the book to find out what happened until we got to the last page and then everything
turned black and we ended up here. Right?”
“Yep,” Sarah agreed. They began to look around and concluded that they were in a castle much
like the one in the story they were examining earlier. “This must be Snow White’s castle!” Sarah said.
“You’re right,” Lacey said.
“Someone get me out of here!” said a voice. “Did you hear that?” asked Lacey.
“Yeah. Who was it?” Sarah replied.
“I don’t know.” They traced the voice back to a small closet at the end of a long hallway. They
opened the door with caution and when they did they found a girl with black long flowing hair and a
sparkling light pink dress. She had a diamond necklace and a very strong resemblance to the main
character in the story Lacey and Sarah were reading before they came to this land.
“Snow White?” Sarah asked excitedly.
“Thank you,” the girl said relieved, “And yes, I am Snow White. Who must you be then?”
“I’m Lacey and this is my sister Sarah. We wondering if you could tell us where we are, though
we have a feeling that we are in your castle.”
“Well then you would be correct. I was supposed to go to a ball tonight but then someone who I
made out to be the Evil Queen shoved me in this closet. The peculiar thing is that she did not use her
magic which, as I think we both know, is her speciality,” she replied.
They began to look around the castle for any sign of her or anyone else, but they found no one.
The last place to look was the ballroom. As they came closer they could hear voices and laughter. “Who’s
in there?” asked Lacey.
“Shh. Maybe we can hear them,” Snow White whispered. The crowd quieted down as a voice
began to talk.
“I have successfully contained Snow White for the moment, though this is only temporary
because even though I have already cast the enchantment that will guarantee our happiness, it is not
completely set yet so it is still using my magic and it needs the best of it,” the Evil Queen says to the
crowd. “Now please, enjoy this delicious food that was intended for precious Snow White and Prince
Charming’s ball. I can assure you, it tastes like victory.”
“That’s why the stories changed,” said Lacey when the speech was over.
“Story?” Snow White asked.
“We are actually in a storybook right now. My sister and I were reading your story when we
noticed the change. Then we got sucked into the book and here we are. So, after we make sure that this
change isn’t permanent, we need to find a way to get back home,” Lacey explained.
“Well, I will make sure that happens,” Snow White assured.
The sisters and the princess began to talk and give their knowledge of the situation. They
brainstormed ways to stop the villains plan before 12:00 tonight. They concluded that the most efficient
way was to find a way to take away the Evil Queen’s magic because that is what is fueling the
enchantment to change the stories. The other reason they decided on this was because at this moment
the Evil Queen is practically helpless without the thing that makes her dangerous, her magic.
“My mother once showed me a chalice that she described as one of the most powerful magical
items in this world. I can take away even the most powerful magic,” said Snow White.
“So, how does it work?” Sarah asked.
“You have to get the person to drink out of it. The chalice takes care of the rest.”
“We should sneak in there now and find a way to get her to drink out of the chalice,” said Lacey.
~ 35 ~
“You’re right,” Snow White agreed, “I will go get it and you two find some of villain costumes so
we blend in.”
Lacey and Sarah went searching the castle to find anything they could incorporate into their
“costumes”. Once they were finished they met up with the princess right where they separated. the girls
came back with many random fragments that made up a outfit.
“I told you guys to get stuff so we blend in. How is this stuff supposed to do that?” Snow asked
sounding more worried than annoyed.
“Just wait,” Lacey said with a slightly mischievous tone in her voice. Lacey and Sarah got to work.
They put the random pieces on themselves and on Snow White. When they were done they each looked
like someone that they would NOT want to mess with. Snow White had horns that were made up of a
broken tea pot and a blood red dress that was partially ripped to make it look more “evil”. To top it off they
added a black shawl. Sarah had an almost identical outfit to Snows to make it look like it was the villain’s
daughter. The only difference was her dress was purple and the horns smaller so they were in proportion
with the rest of her body. Lacey had a completely different look. She had a bright green short dress
splattered with black paint, and put her hair up in a messy ponytail, but the highlight of the outfit was a
staff she made. She found a long thick stick in the greenhouse and attached a huge green diamond onto
the end of it.
“Wow,” said Snow White, “These are amazing Lacey!”
“Thanks! But let’s get in there before we run out of time,” she replied. They slipped through the
enormous oak doors and were amazed at what they saw. Villains filled the whole ballroom talking eating
and celebrating what they thought would be a victory. They did not expect what came next.
The moment they stepped into the room everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to
them. Snow White, Lacey, and Sarah all knew that this was not going to end well. Before they could do
anything three guards grabbed their arms and pulled them behind their back.
**********
In only the matter of 5 minutes they were all in their own personal cell under the castle. “Well, I
guess we could have planned that out a little better,” Lacey said.
“Yeah……” said Snow White. After about 15 minutes they thought that there was no way that
they could stop the villains at this point. Then a guard dressed in black metal came up to the three cells
and just stood there for a moment looking over his shoulder looking to see is anyone else was around.
When he saw that there was no one else there he reached up and took off his helmet. “Charming?!”
Snow exclaimed. “Yep. I took out a guard earlier and stole the uniform. It took me a while to find you. Now
let's get you out of here. And this time you might want to be a little more stealthy,” the Prince said pulling
keys out of his pocket and unlocking the cells. They all said their thank yous and Snow flashed him a
smile and they were on their way.
Once they were out of the dungeons Snow White said, “The meeting should be over now and the
Evil Queen should be up in her bedroom. Well, it is really my room but anyway before we left Charming
told me he would be guarding the Queen’s bedroom so we can get in.” Then she pulled the chalice out of
a satchel that Lacey and Sarah hadn’t noticed before.
“The Queen should be sleeping since she is conserving her energy for the enchantment.” They all
followed her up long narrow staircase that ended with a single carved wooden door and outside a single
guard with a black uniform. When he saw them he did a short nod telling them that he was who he
thought they he was.
“Lacey, I want you to capture her,” said Snow said.
“Wait what?! I don’t even know how to use it!” she said in a loud whisper. “All you have to do,” the
princess replied, “Is press this gem.” She pointed to a big ruby on the side of the cup. “It will suck up the
biggest magic source in sight. Now we don’t have much time,” Snow said opening the door. The Evil
Queen was sleeping peacefully on the bed. They noticed a storybook on the nightstand and Lacey and
~ 36 ~
Sarah recognized that is the storybook that brought them to this world. Lacey decided she would wait until
after she sucked the Queen into the cup to tell her that. She braced herself and pressed the ruby. The
Evil Queen’s body began turn into a green streak of light that began to absorbed into the cup.
“You did it!” said Sarah.
Yes she did,” agreed Snow White, “But now you need to get home. If you open the book it will
turn into a portal that will take you back to where you came from. No time will have past and nothing will
be changed except the stories will go back to normal.”
“I’m going to miss you!” Sarah said hugging the princess.
“Me too,” agreed Lacey.
“So will I, but you know where to find me,” Snow said nodding at the book. They said their final
goodbyes and Snow White thanked them for all of their help. Then Lacey opened the book and her and
Sarah jumped in to the red swirling portal.
They landed on Sarah’s bed and everything that Snow White said had appeared to be true. The
book was also there too. Though just to be sure they went to say goodnight to their mom.
“Goodnight, Mommy!” Sarah said when they got to their mom’s room.
“Night, Mom,” said Lacey.
“Didn’t I just say goodnight to you? Oh, well,” she said pulling them both into a hug. The girls
walked back to their rooms and went to bed both of them dreaming of an adventure that they would tell no
one else. The main reason for that being no one would believe them.
Emily
Emily
~ 37 ~
“Angel in My Arms”
This child in my arms, this gift He's sent to me This gift
in my arms, my new sister to be Adoptions yet to come,
to I wait to see
This child in my arms, this gift he's sent to me
Staring deep into her eyes anyone
would get lost in their
Those light soft blue gems glisten and glow
Her skin so soft, her mass so little
The child in my arms, this gift He's sent to me
Waiting and waiting, a year has passed by
The gift in my arms, isn't my sister yet
As the skies darken and relight, my hope remains You will
get your time, You will get your time This child in my arms,
this gift He's sent to me
In the billowing room, ever so vast
The law stares me down, directly to the core
They pronounce her ours! She's finally ours!
All eyes gleaming with glee!
This child in my arms, this gift He's sent to me
Brooke
Dyana
~ 38 ~
“Disease”
“Forget-Me-Not”
Mightn't I be the one,
To disperse into the station.
Consuming and subduing,
With no pause or hesitation.
I'm everywhere you can touch,
I'm hidden in plain sight.
I'm transferring to each person,
All ignorant to this plight.
They do not understand,
I whom is invisible.
Boarding subterranean transportation,
As I infect every terminal.
I am attacking your system,
And I refuse to cease.
I am the common unknown,
I simply am disease.
My petals dyed blue from the tears shed.
A stem, like thread, to hold my head.
But as hard as I try,
And as much as I cry,
It’s no use.
I’m surrounded by nothing and no one.
My faultless flower friends have all run
away.
My stem’s too thin and pathetic,
So I have no choice but to stay.
Though it sounds like they left me alone,
No, this blank space sewn, I did all on my
own.
I wanted to be forgotten…
I suppose?
“Show Biz”
Though I may just be a flower,
And this all seems quite sad,
And I already realize,
Some better choices I had…
The past is gone
And I’m stuck with this
But with my surroundings drained,
I now see something I had missed.
I see the sunny sun, up in the sky above.
And the emptiness seems much brighter.
Though my faultless flower friends left,
Potential took their place,
After all, this is my blank space.
Living with just rain, would make me wilt
and die
Living with just sun, would make me burn
and fry.
But living in their harmony, is helpful and I
know,
Because with my nothingness,
I have so much room to grow.
Disclosed, exposed, in trouble.
The limelight just now doubled.
I've surfeited the crowd,
Now jaded and shroud,
In a blanket of darkness
And blurred tears from my eyes.
Yes, I realize. My mistakes.
And the intransigent ways of the audience.
Please don't judge,
Don't misconstrue.
I faint under the pressure,
Perspiration hat to shoe.
But when my eyes open,
And I finally come to,
My tears and sweat have mixed,
To a lovely purple hue.
It was very abrupt,
To wake up from this nightmare.
With this stage fright,
And the horrid wear and tear.
But alas, this is common,
My stage fright so ludicrous.
I am but a performer,
And that's just show biz.
I’ve made some bad calls,
But I reject what I thought.
So tie a string to your finger…
And Forget-me-not.
poems by
Caitlyn
~ 39 ~
Flowers & Feathers
Jasmine
Kylie
Scholastic Art Show~Honorable Mention
Mia
Rianna
40
Jamie
Suhanee
Grace
Nate
Myles
41
Flowers & Feathers
Jamie
Scholastic Art Show~Silver Key
Paige
Jasmine
Julia
42
Kelsey
Iman
Brianna
Sydney
Ella
43
Personal Narrative
I wake up in pain, a stinging pain, coming from my shoulders. What is that? I think as 1
slowly get out from under the covers to take some of the pain away. The pain continues but not
as powerful as when I got up. I finally get out and dangle my feet from my bunk bed. I breath
and call out to my mom, "Mom! Can you come here?" The other day I had been outside in the
hot summer air, at High-Five a summer day camp for church and I had been sliding down a hill
on a slip-in-slide, also known as a tarp, and I had not put on any sunscreen the whole
afternoon. My mom was worried when she came to pick me up and asked why I was so red,
even though
she probably knew why. I had felt fine then of course but this morning I felt like someone tore off
my skin.
Finally I look at my shoulder, at first I see nothing then I see something unusual, a huge
bubble. I look at my other shoulder and see it has bubbles too two tiny bubbles the size of
grapes. I hear footsteps and then I yell, "Mom! Come Quick!" The footsteps start to tap faster
and faster then my door opens.
"What is it Jack?!?" says the alarming face of my mom.
"What's wrong with my shoulders?" I cry. She looks at my shoulders and then her eyes
widen.
"Josh! Come Here Now!" Then my dad bursts through the door.
"What is it?" he says calmly.
My mom points to the bubbles on my shoulders, "Can you tell me What are Those?!?"
My dad studies the bubbles carefully and then he turns and runs to the kitchen. "Josh? Josh!
What are Those?" My mom said more calmer as she runs after my dad.
Then I hear a groan and then a tiny voice calls out, "Jack? What's going on?”
"I don't know but there are bubbles on my shoulders Dane." He gets up and looks at me.
His finger starts to go towards the biggest bubble but then mom come in and stops him. She
tells me we are going to the doctors office right away. Dane then asks, "But then who's going to
take us to High-Five?" High-Five was the place where I had been yesterday and we were going to
go there every day for this week but now I was not sure I was going to be able to go anymore.
"Dads going to take you, Kate, and Gracie to High-Five" Then the next thing I know I am
being put in the car and taken to the doctors office. I had put on a shirt and when we got there
the doctor asked me to take off my shirt. I started to do so but the bubbles had stuck to my shirt
and I suddenly felt a stinging pain again.
The doctor asks, "What's wrong?" and I tell him the bubbles at sticking to my shirt. It
takes some time and I cry out in pain the whole time, but the doctor and my mom finally get the
shirt off.
~ 44 ~
"Do you know what it is?" My mom asks the doctor. He inspects the bubbles and turns to
my mom.
"It's second degree burns but it could be worse." The doctor replies back. He then tells
us how we need to apply this cream, that he prescribes us, every morning. When we get home
my mom asks if I want to go to High-Five but to a Lego "class" with littler kids.
"Sure I'll go." But when I get there I feel the bubbles sticking to my shirt. Mom brings me
to the place to build with Legos, and I try to have fun but I feel the pain and it hurts a lot. Soon I
realize that a lot of the kids are watching me. I feel embarrassed and I start to cry out, "Can you
call my mom please?" I try to hide the pain but it's showing. The attendant feels really sorry for
me, as he calls my mom and try's to calm me down when I start to cry.
Both my mom and dad come to pick me up. By the time my parents get there I didn't
want to stay in the room so I'm sitting out in the hallway, which is huge. They come and hug me.
We get to the car, take off my shirt to make sure we don’t have it hurting on the ride,
and we start heading home.
"Are you okay, honey?" my mom asks.
Tears are in my eyes as I say, "Yea, sort of." We pull in the drive and my dad goes into
the house to make me lunch even though it's later than it usually is. The rest of the week was
misery we apply the cream every morning and I keep my shirt off most of the time.
Sometimes I try to pop the bubbles but my mom tells me, "Don't do that it won't do
anything for you it will just make your skin worse." We get through the weeks of misery and we
start to see the bubbles receding downwards. Finally the doctor said it was ok to take the skin
that was just staying there attached to where the bubbles were.
That was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life. I have never broken a bone
ever. But it was very important to have had that experience because it showed me what pain
was. Up in till then I thought that pain was just I scraped my knee and it will go away in a couple
of days. Sure I have had a cat scratched my chin and lip but I was so little that it never told me
that pain was that painful. It has held me to be more cautious with everything I did. But of course
I don't always be that cautious. I take risks, but I have alway worn sunscreen since then even
though I always get sunburn. This is because I have were sensitive skin except on my head and
legs.
After that I have not got a second or third degree burn, and that makes me happy to
think that I haven't had another accident with the sun.
JT
~ 45 ~
“In a Crowd of People”
In a crowd of people,
How was it
that she was the only one there?
They don’t say that she’s a conformist,
sometimes,
Others say she’s an individual
But not the type that commits crimes
She was similar in many ways
But did what she wanted on other days
She was outgoing and very kind
Did not let others mess with her mind
But,
What if
She did not take “bold” as a compliment?
She did not try to blend in,
Though,
For what even was the point?
How was it that in a crowd of people,
She was the only one there?
What if she didn’t want to be a leader anymore?
Can someone else be the alpha of the pack?
and
How was it that in a crowd of people,
she was the only one there?
Savannah
Holly
~ 46~
The Call
The Call
I remember the moment by heart. I felt beat down like the greatest place in the world had suddenly
become diminutive. These feelings were taking over my whole body. The thoughts in my mind were racing,
all full of discouragement. Absolutely no room for a smile.
"Your roll," I replied to my sister. She rolled the die in the palms of her hands cupped in a circle.
Her deft hands made the turn faster.
"Six," she said. My sister Zarah and I were spending the summer at my cousin’s house in Minnesota.
We started our occasional "game" part of the day by playing a continuous game of Monopoly.
"Ugh, I landed in jail again!" announced my sister annoyed with the game. She passed the die to my
cousin, Ayeza who was jumping high, a smile painted in her face. Right before her delicate hands touched
the die the phone yelled out ring, ring, ring, ring.
"I'll get it," I said, skipping my way to the counter. My eyes wandered around the caller ID number.
MOM. MOM, calling for her daily check-ins to see how we were. "Hello?" I said into the phone.
"Hi Zoya, how are you?" she asked
"I'm good," I explained, "we were just playing a game of Monopoly."
"Good."
"What did you do today mom?" I questioned her like normal.
"Just the usual work," she said.
"Boring!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, so are you excited to come home?"
"Kind of," I replied.
"Kind of," she laughed in the background.
"We have a surprise for you and Zarah when you come home," she spoke.
"Oh cool give us a clue!" I said excited.
"Okay, okay. I will send you a link," she said. My hands were shaking, my heart was beating. What
could it be? A new backpack? New decorations to our room? Or maybe a pet! Instantly I heard the default
sound of messaging. I shrieked with curiosity. I opened the link and there I viewed with my eyes a picture
of a large, red, house. A house. My excitement completely died down. Why would my mom send me a
picture of a house. Out of all things how could a surprise be a house. It took me a minute to process what
just happened. A house. Immediately memories and thoughts ran through my mind.
No. No. No. No. This is could not be happening. My eyes were imagining just like a dream. I
opened and closed them no make sure it was real. It was. It was all happening. Right in front of me. A
~ 47 ~
house. A house means where you live. A different house means moving. Looking at a different house
crushed me. The world stopped around me. The earth stopped, the sun stopped, the whole universe
stopped but my heart kept running. Maybe a new house would be better for us. Though I didn't know that
I was drifting in space for so long that I couldn't hear my sister.
"Zoya, what happened?" asked my sister. My thoughts were a sweet skittle that just turned sour.
"Uh-uh. We-re mov-ing," I managed to say. I handed her the phone as she viewed the link. We didn't
say anything after that. We were filled with tears and smiles at the same time. Maybe a new house would
be for the better. Maybe just maybe we would be able to get through it. Though we had loads of questions
and needed answers but we kept them for tomorrow. Tomorrow's call.
Zoya
Karenna
Scholastic Art Show~Silver Key
Lindsey
Scholastic Art Show~Honorable Mention
~ 48 ~
Evergreen
The wheels on the stolen HoverBike drop to the pavement so fast that sparks fly. I hop
off before the bike even stops moving; my android struggles to keep up with me.
"I'll race you," I say to my android, Echo.
"And you'll beat me like you do every time," she says. "It's not normal for you to be
faster than a machine."
"Oh well," I shrug. "Your fault for not even acting like a machine." Then I look up at the
building that we've come to a stop before. I analyze every crack and foothold, every window and
every ledge. Then I say, "On your marks, get set, go!"
I start my watch, simultaneously leaping four feet off the ground, the suckers on my
gloves and boots gripping the smooth wall. I fluidly scale the building like a gecko would scale
a tree, never pausing, Echo close behind. When I reach the top, I stop my watch. When my
Echo finally catches up, I say, "Six minutes and thirty-two seconds. For four stories."
"That's impressive," Echo says. I nod to myself and look out across the city. I'm in
Amasia, the prettiest sector. They have the cleanest air here, too. It must be all the trees they
plant. The streets are almost completely clear, except for a few Community Laborers still out
picking up garbage from tourists (because Amasia citizens would never litter), and a few
rebellious teens out after curfew. But the view is still stunning. I can see the outline of the sun
through the smog, and make out some pinks and oranges through the hazy gray clouds. As I
look out across the city, I also wonder how many people out there are like me. At least I have
Echo. I mean, I don't know what's wrong with her programming, but it only makes her better. I
glance at her contentedly. Echo's formerly shiny white body is tinted gray, even though I try my
best to keep her clean, which is more than most people do nowadays.
I figure, someday, someone will find me out here. They might let me get a job, as some
kind of Laborer, or a Secretary or Electrician if I'm lucky. But nothing important. Not an
Actress or a Lawyer. I'll live in a tiny apartment and maybe have five personal items. My food
rations will probably be worse than what I have now. I'll need an official education. But even
that's doubtful. They'll probably just throw me out.
I sit there and watch the sun go down for a while. The clouds clear, allowing more
vibrant colors to glow through the smog. I squint in the direction the clouds went. It looks like
Laurasia will be getting some rain tomorrow.
"All right, Echo," I say when I see the faint glow of the moon rising. "Time to find a place
to sleep."
"Somebody threw out an old blanket in the alley below us," Echo suggests.
"As long as it doesn't have puke on it or anything," I say. We climb down the building,
taking our time. When my feet finally slap against the dusty pavement, I've already found the
blanket. It's torn almost in half, but that seems to be it. It doesn't smell bad at all, and it looks
quite clean.
It doesn't take Echo and I long to find a grassy corner in some flowery nature reserve.
Using the grass as a mattress, I fit the blanket over me.
"Goodnight, Echo," I say. She has time to say goodnight as well before I tap her power
button. The light fades from her blue eyes as she shuts down. Then I fall asleep, listening to
the crickets' music and breathing in the fresh air that smells like rain and pollen.
The next morning, I wake up at about 5:00 AM. Echo and I wander the streets for a
while. We find a few coins that people dropped. We even find an Amasian $10 bill. We treat
ourselves to some breakfast (as in, I buy her a new battery and I buy myself two sausages).
Echo cheerfully stores the extra battery in one of her compartments, the one in her shoulder.
"What should we do now?" I ask Echo.
"I think I'd like a change in sector," Echo says. "Something more engaging and
dramatic. Kenor, or Columbia, maybe."
"You know there's nothing to do in Kenor," I say. We're walking along the side of a lake
in Amasia. The weak light from the sun makes the water sparkle and twinkle. I think that's
~ 49 ~
what stars are supposed to look like. But no one has seen stars around here for decades, due
to the smog from pollution. "And we don't want to get pollution sickness, so let's not go to
Pangea either. And Laurasia's getting rain today." I pause to think for a second. "How about
Rodinia?"
"Yeah!" Echo says enthusiastically. "Rodinia it is!" We start heading in that direction.
Usually, you couldn't just walk into another sector like I do. But I have my ways to sneak
around. And I know Rodinia the best. My first memories were made there. I think as a young
child, I belonged somewhere. I remember a home with carpet and toys and pets. But then I
remember a dark night with no moon, a knock on the door, and heartbroken sobbing. I think
that was when I was four. I lived on the streets of Rodinia until I was five, when I sneaked into
Amasia and started living in one of their nature reserves. When I was six I went to Kenor, but I
was kicked out. I went to Laurasia and started scaling buildings. By then, I could get money as
well as food. Then I could buy my things. Now I'm twelve, and I live nowhere. My only object
from my early days is Echo, and an electronic locket with a letter V inscribed on the front of it.
It has about a dozen pictures. There's a dog, a cat, a fish (pets?), a couple holding a baby (me?)
an elderly couple (grandparents?), and a boy about four years old (a brother?).
Traveling quickly, we make it to Rodinia in two hours. We wander through the stores
filled with the latest fashion and the current technology. Echo gapes at the new androids, and I
glance at the feathery scarves and the silky dresses that dangle from the hangers. I know how
expensive that stuff is, though. Everyone in Rodinia is rich, probably including my parents.
Maybe I would've been wealthy, strutting around in the newest styles like everyone else. But I
don't mind my life now, living alone with Echo.
Somebody walked away from their salad and didn't come back to eat it. They hadn't
even touched it. If they had come back, let's just say they wouldn't have found it there anyway.
I'm sitting on the doorstep of an abandoned apartment in a dank alley, picking lettuce
out of my teeth, when a man in khakis and a t-shirt sprints into the alley.
"Victoria?" he shouts. I flinch, looking up in surprise. Then I look down, scolding myself
for reacting. I've never known how I knew my name was Victoria. Maybe it was just the first
name that popped to mind, seeing that V on my locket. But I was the only one who knew. That
man couldn't be talking to me.
But then he runs straight up to me.
"Is your name Victoria?" He asks me, wheezing with his hands on his knees. He's not
really a man; he looks only a few years older than me. I notice he has an earpiece in his ear,
and an electronic watch on his wrist.
I look up into his huge dark eyes that make me think of a steaming cup of coffee. "I
think I'm the wrong person."
"I think you're not," he says. I blink, surprised. "I've been looking for you for weeks! We
have men in every sector looking for you. Wait, hold on." He taps his watch a few times. "Flynn
to Mission Control. Flynn to Stitch, here. I've found her. I have found Victoria Evergreen."
Victoria Evergreen? I hear a tiny voice from his earpiece, but I can't make out what it's saying.
"Contemporary Avenue, Rodinia," Flynn says. After a pause, he says, "Yes, sir." Flynn looks at
me. "Come on Victoria. You're coming with me."
"No," I say. Flynn looks just as surprised as I probably did when he said the same thing
to me.
"Listen, I know this must sound crazy, but we need you to come back as soon as
possible," Flynn stares at me with his coffee brown eyes pleading.
"No," I say. "I've been living on the streets for almost a decade; I'm not stupid enough to
just go with some guy who comes along saying he needs me."
Flynn makes a scowl that I guess he makes often. His eyebrows come down and so do
the corners of his mouth. It's almost comical. "You know," he says. "It's great you're not stupid.
That's fantastic. Now I happen to know some people who really need to see you and I don't
want to keep them waiting."
I already analyzed the building that I'm sitting at the doorstep of when I first walked
into this alley. It's one of the few structures left made of brick. I wish they made more buildings
out of brick. They're so easy to climb.
~ 50 ~
I'm six feet off the ground before Flynn can blink.
The building is only three stories tall, and with plenty of windows. I make it to the roof
in about one minute. But then I look down to see Echo struggling to free herself from Flynn's
grip. My eyes narrow as anger blooms inside of me. Echo's been my only friend for the past
eight years. How dare he lay a hand on her!
"You'll come down if you want your android back," Flynn calls up to me. Echo says
something to him I can't hear. Flynn's eyes widen. "Sarcasm? In an android?"
"Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with her programming either," I mutter as I climb
down. Maybe I can still get Echo and escape. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I tear Echo
from Flynn's arms.
"Don't touch her ever again," I growl. "Come on, Echo." I turn and start running.
"No! Wait!" I hear Flynn yelling at me, his feet tapping on the pavement behind me. He's
fast. But I'm faster.
We run for a couple miles, but Flynn is still too close behind me to find somewhere to
hide. I hear a few of the Police shout at us to stop, but I ignore them. My legs are burning, and
I'm gasping for air, but I can hear Flynn gasping as well.
"Victoria!" He exclaims. "Please, no, wait!" I stop and turn around so fast that Echo runs
into me. Flynn gratefully stops, and stands there panting, his hands on his knees. Sweat beads
on his skin that reminds me of dark chocolate.
"Who needs to see me?" I can't disguise the exhaustion in my voice.
Flynn makes that scowl at me again. "Your parents," he wheezes.
I perk up immediately. "You know my parents?"
"Couldn't we have had this conversation before running three miles straight?"
"2.8 miles," Echo says matter-of-factly.
"Thanks, android," Flynn says dryly.
"I have a name," Echo snaps indignantly.
"Wait," I interrupt. "Who are my parents?"
"Do I really need to explain this to you first?" Flynn says exasperatedly.
"Yes."
Flynn sighs. "You have quite the personality, young lady." I scowl, doing my best to
imitate him. Flynn sits down, hugging his knees to his chest, his back against the building we
stopped by.
"Your parents hate the sectors," Flynn says. "They hate the Sector Test, they hate it all."
I blink, taking this in. He knows my parents. He knows me. But how? No one knows me! And it
sounds like my parents hate the sector system just as much as I do.
"Your parents failed the Sector Test," Flynn continues. "Everyone who fails the test
usually is just put to work as a servant - er, Monarch Laborer - or as a Community Laborer.
But your parents refused. They were thrown out of the sectors to die. The governments took
you away from them and threw you out in the streets." My breath catches in my throat. Flynn
notices and says, "You have no idea how often this happens. It's supposed to keep the peace
and control population. But your parents survived. Now, every time somebody is thrown out of
the sectors, they join with your parents." Flynn pauses, looking me in the eye. "They have a big
group of people out there, Victoria. Your brother's there, too."
The little boy in my locket. He is my brother. "What's his name?" My voice cracks.
"Evan Evergreen," Flynn says.
"My last name...is Evergreen?" I ask.
"Yeah," Flynn says. "Victoria Faith Evergreen."
Faith. My middle name. "Victoria Faith Evergreen," I say to myself, over and over again.
"Victoria Faith Evergreen." I have a name. A whole name! An identity. I have a family. I have
parents, and a brother! "I like it."
Flynn makes another interesting face. He gives me a half-smile, tilting his head and
smiling with his eyes. "You know what, that's great. Now we have to get going." Flynn checks
his watch. "I was supposed to meet Dr. Stitch in Amasia an hour ago." We stand up. I walk
towards a HoverBike parking space.
~ 51 ~
"Victoria?" Flynn calls out. "What are you doing?" It's not long before I pull out two
bikes.
"You'd be amazed at the number of people who don't actually lock their bikes," I say,
giving one bike to Flynn.
"Are you serious," Flynn murmurs slowly. But I'm already on my bike, and Echo and I
speed ahead of him all the way to the Rodinia Wall. There I hop off my bike.
"You know, this isn't the exit," Flynn says when he catches up.
"You take the exits?" I tap in a passcode on the wall, and a hidden door slides open. I
glance at Flynn's amazed face. "Emergency Exit. I watched the Sector Guards type in the
passcode. Bring the bikes, we can't leave them here as evidence. And hurry, the guards only
take 3.28 minutes on average to change shifts here."
It's not long before we're in Pannotia Nature Reserve of Amasia. Flynn leads me to a
waterfall. Two men stand looking at their electronic watches, a safe distance from the spray.
Both wear dark sunglasses and pristine suits. They look up as Flynn, Echo, and I arrive.
"Flynn," one man, the older one, says as they approach us. "Excellent job." He looks me
over. I can't see his eyes, but he feels condescending. I get the chills. "And you are Victoria, I
presume?"
I nod stiffly. "Yes."
"I am quite-"
The man is cut off when the other man, who is really still a teenager, like Flynn, leaps
to embrace me.
"Victoria!" He gasps wonderingly. He pulls back, examining me. I know exactly who he
is.
"Evan Evergreen," I murmur.
"Yes!" He says breathlessly. "Yes! You know who I am!"
"Flynn told me that I had a brother by that name," I say. His hands are still on my
shoulders.
"Ah, yes." Evan steps back, continuing to look at me with awe and excitement. "How old
are you now? Twelve? Thirteen?"
"Twelve," I say.
"I'm four and a half years older than you," Evan says. "I'm-"
"Sixteen and a half years old," I say.
"How'd you know?"
"I did the math."
"She's not stupid," Echo says. "When are people going to figure that out? We already
had to go over it with Flynn..."
"Wait, how do you guys know my name?" Flynn asks.
"You said, 'Flynn to Stitch,'" I explain. I turn to the older man. "I'm guessing you are Dr.
Stitch?"
The man nods. "You are very perceptive, Victoria." When I do not respond, he continues.
"We must go to Evergreen Headquarters."
"To my parents?" I ask. I wonder if they will be anything like Evan. They probably will.
They will probably be more like Evan than like me.
"Yes, to see your parents," Dr. Stitch says. There is a heavy weight to his voice, like
there is something he is not telling me. I nod anyway. "Let us proceed to the HoverCar," Dr.
Stitch continues. "It's waiting for us. Follow me." We follow him out of the reserve to a nearby
street. There is indeed a HoverCar waiting for us. We all pile in, and Dr. Stitch starts driving.
When we get to the Amasia Gate, which is decorated with climbing vines and huge pink
flowers, Dr. Stitch swipes a card, and the gate opens.
"Were you kicked out of the sectors too, Dr. Stitch?" I ask.
"In a way," Dr. Stitch replies. "More like I left them." I can imagine that. I can't imagine
Dr. Stitch working as a Laborer. "They said I could go to Kenor and work to be a Soldier, or a
Lawyer, or a Guard. I asked why couldn't I go somewhere else and work as a Doctor, or own a
business, or be an Architect? They told me that none of those jobs were for me, only those were
the only jobs I really wanted. So I left."
~ 52 ~
"What do you do now, for Evergreen?" I ask.
"I lead people," Dr. Stitch says. "I'm the boss. Well, right below your parents, of course."
"But what do you do?" I repeat.
"There is another organization like ours," Dr. Stitch says. "It is called the Blue Crow.
They hate the sectors too, except they want to destroy them, with violence. We've had to stop
their assassination and theft plans, while at the same time recruiting more people, and waiting
for the sectors to fall apart."
I realize now that we are not headed for the nearest sector, which would be either
Laurasia or Columbia. Instead, we have driven all the way around Amasia, and we're heading
southwest, where there are no sectors. There is a big stretch of arid land maybe a few miles
long between the Amasia Wall and the Sector Wall, which wraps around all of the sectors.
"How are you going to get through the Sector Wall?" I ask.
"We have our ways," Dr. Stitch says slyly. It sounds like something I would say.
Not long after he says this, Dr. Stitch stops the HoverCar maybe a quarter mile from the
Amasia Wall. We all get out. A hot, dry wind blows dust in our faces. Flynn and Evan get on
the ground, tugging on a short metal chain lying the the dust.
It turns out the metal chain is attached to a wooden trapdoor in the ground. We walk
through an underground tunnel and emerge out in the open - and on the other side of the
Wall.
There is a car - not a Hover - waiting for us. We get in, and then we drive for about 10
minutes until a forest looms into view. The trees have long, skinny trunks with thick green
bushes surrounding them at the bottom. It is a eucalyptus forest.
Here we get out and weave through the trees until a huge building comes into view. It is
made out of a shiny stone material like obsidian. As we draw closer, however, I realize that the
color is really a dark green, not black. There appears to be one floor where the walls are all
made of windows, but those seem to be the only windows on the building. Dr. Stitch takes us
inside.
The first room is kind of like a lobby, with soft-looking sofas and lots of people. Dr.
Stitch guides us to a woman at the back, who is sitting at a desk with an out-of-date computer.
She looks up as we arrive. She has sharp green eyes, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and
headphones with an earpiece on her head.
"Welcome, Dr. Stitch," she says. "Please sign in, and then you guys can be on your
way."
Dr. Stitch swipes an ID card, but not a standard sector one. "Victoria Evergreen does
not have an ID card," he says. "Will you still let her through?" I guess by his tone that there
isn't really much of a choice in that question.
"Victoria Evergreen!" The woman exclaims. "Of course! Your parents will be so happy to
see you, dear." Again, there is that weight to her voice. There is something they are not telling
me. I begin to doubt the trustworthiness of my companions.
"Thank you, Charlotte," Dr. Stitch says. He then leads us past Charlotte and takes us
up an elevator. The doors open into a hallway with white walls and tiled floors. People amble
through the halls. We turn a few corners, then we stop at a door. A little homemade sign next
to the door says "PRSDR#62." Before I can try to guess what that means, Dr. Stitch says,
"Victoria." I look up at him, but then Flynn starts talking.
"Victoria, there's something you should know."
"There is something you should know, Flynn," Dr. Stitch says. "That is to not interrupt
me."
"Yeah, well you're not going to say this very well," Flynn says. Then he turns back to
me. "Something that we didn't tell you before," he continues. The thought is already creeping
into my mind, however much I don't want it there. But it makes sense, but it can't be...
"Your parents," Flynn says. "Are sick. We have no records of the disease, and even if we
did, the sectors would have probably destroyed them."
I stand there, frozen. I blink a few times. I feel slightly dizzy. "Both of them?"
"Yes," Flynn says. "Would you like to see them now?" I nod numbly. Dr. Stitch opens
the door.
~ 53 ~
The room is just like the hallways outside, white and sterile. There are two beds with
white sheets on opposite sides of the room. In one bed, there is a woman, with orange hair,
freckles, and deep, sparkling blue eyes. Just like mine. On the other bed, there is a man, with
tousled brown hair and hazel eyes that probably usually sparkled with laughter, but they are
now burdened with fatigue. My parents.
Evan immediately rushes towards my mom. He gives her a hug. She playfully takes off
his sunglasses, laughing weakly.
"Evan," she says. Her voice is soft, like furry blankets or clouds. Like my voice. Evan
smiles. It is then that I realize his eyes are like my mother's as well, but his jawline is my
father's. I walk towards my father. He appears to have fallen asleep, but then he opens his eyes
and squints at me. I imagine how my blurry form must look to him, with the bright lights in
the white room. He looks slightly dizzy, but then his eyes focus.
"You look..." he says, his thin voice cracking. He clears his throat. "You look like Chloe."
I stand there, for a moment, confused.
"Chloe is mom's name," Evan says. I flinch. I didn't hear him come up behind me.
"I'm Victoria," I say to my dad. "Your...daughter." His eyes light up and a smile tugs at
his lips.
"Victoria!" He breathes. He looks over at my mom, across the room. "Sweetheart, it's our
daughter!" I walk over to my mom so she can see me. I kind of feel like I've known her my
whole life, even though I haven't seen her for eight years. I give her a hug.
"Victoria," she says. Then she looks pointedly at Dr. Stitch. Dr. Stitch leaves the room,
gesturing for Flynn to follow him. Evan stays. I gesture to Echo, to make sure she stays. My
mom puts her hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes. "Listen to me, Victoria Faith.
You too, Evan Carter. I have to tell you two something." We both lean in close to catch her
whispery words. "Dr. Stitch...he will take over the Evergreen Agency. He is already almost
completely in charge now."
"No, mom," Evan starts, but my mother silences him with a look.
"This is important, Evan," she says. "I wouldn't tell you this is I didn't think it was
worthy." She pauses, then takes a breath to continue. But then she stops, her eyes settling on
someplace around my collarbone. I glance down to see what she's looking at. Oh.
Her feverish fingers brush against my neck as she opens my locket, swiping her fingers
against the little screen inside, looking at every photo. Her eyes glisten, but she doesn't shed a
tear. Then she closes it up again, drops it against my neck, and continues as if nothing
happened.
"I don't want Dr. Stitch to be in control of Evergreen," she says, her voice quivering.
"He's out of my sight too often, and I don't know where he goes. His personality isn't even
charming. I would rather you two be the leaders of Evergreen." I wait for her to continue,
thinking she's just using some kind of figure of speech, but she's looking into our eyes, as if
waiting for a reaction. She's not kidding.
"Oh! Um..." Evan stammers.
"Yes," I say, surprising myself. Evan looks surprised, like he didn't expect that of his
little twelve year old sister. But then he nods.
"Of course," he says.
"Thank you," my mother breathes. "It won't be easy, though. Dr. Stitch will try to make
you feel too young and unimportant. This is our family's organization, you hear? You have to
be strong. Choose your own commanders. You can demote Stitch if you want to; I don't care.
And if he rises against you, I'm hoping that most of the organization is loyal enough to our
family to take care of him." She presses her lips together, and her head falls back onto her
pillow. "I know you'll be good leaders." Her voice is so soft I barely hear what she says. "Your
father agrees." I glance over at my dad, who is looking at us. He gives a little nod.
"We will, Mom," Evan says. I nod in agreement.
"Under my pillow," my mom says. I hesitate, confused, but Evan reaches under her
pillow and pulls out an envelope.
~ 54 ~
"It's proof that I actually said everything I just said," my mom says. Then she looks at
me. "I wish I could've gotten to know you better, Victoria," she says. "When they ripped you out
of my arms..." She sniffs. "I see you found yourself an android."
I nod, gesturing for Echo to come closer. "This is Echo," I say. "She...has quite the
personality."
Echo dips her head and winks. "You bet I do, Mrs. Evergreen!" My mom laughs.
"How did you survive?" She whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
"I lived on the streets," I say, even though I'm not even sure she actually wanted an
answer. "Eating leftovers that people didn't throw away. It's not that bad. I use different
utensils, of course." I gesture to Echo, who opens a compartment in her arm where a fork,
knife, and spoon are stored. "And I get different straws for drinks, when I don't use the water
fountains. I've been to every sector."
"That's...amazing," my mom says. "I don't think...it will be long...before the sectors fall
apart." She seems to be falling asleep. "They probably were the ones who gave me this disease,
after all."
Evan and I share a look. "What?"
My mom blinks, trying to keep herself awake. "I think the sectors...have figured out
that...we exist. We aren't...the only ones with this disease. I don't know where it...came from.
We might have a traitor...putting it in the food...or something. I just have to find...them."
"We can find them, Mom," I say. "You can sleep now. We'll see you tomorrow."
My mom gives us a weak smile, but then her eyes close, and her breathing evens out.
She's asleep. I press a kiss to her forehead before we leave.
I'm only slightly surprised to find Flynn standing right outside the door.
"She fell asleep?" Flynn guesses.
"Yeah," Evan replies.
Flynn nods, then addresses me. "That's one of the symptoms we've come to identify,
along with a fever and headaches. They all seem to be very tired." I nod absently, still trying to
process everything.
"Come on, Victoria," Flynn says. "I'll take you to your room." It's still odd to have people
call me Victoria. Before I just never really had a name. Evan bids us farewell and walks in the
other direction. Flynn and I start walking.
"We've recruited so many people over the years," Flynn says. "This used to be a hospital,
and it doesn't have enough rooms for everyone to have their own. So we have wings for
bedrooms and wings for sick or injured patients."
"How many people have the disease my parents have?" I ask.
"Last time somebody told me, it was thirty-seven," Flynn tells me. Finally, we stop in
front of a door which sign says, "GBLWG10-15#2."
"Remember those," Flynn says, pointing at the sign. "Group Bedroom Left Wing Girls
10-15 #2." I nod, impressing that into my memory. Then Flynn opens the door.
There are four beds on each side of the room, and five of them have girls around my age
on them. The girls stop chatting and turn to look at Flynn and I.
"Hello, girls," Flynn says, giving them that half-smile look. "This," he gestures to me, "is
Victoria Evergreen."
"Evergreen?" One girl says. "Isn't that, like, the name of this place?"
"Yes," Flynn scowls. "She's Mrs. Evergreen's and Dr. Evergreen's daughter."
"Evan's your brother?" Another girl asks. I nod.
"Hi," the another girl says. "I'm Mia." She has gorgeous brown hair, pretty brown eyes,
and freckles. Flynn leaves, closing the door behind him. I'm on my own now.
"This is Willow, Holly, Samantha, Kylie, and Ava," Mia continues. Holly looks the oldest,
maybe fourteen years old. Willow's probably the youngest, maybe ten.
"Hi," I say. "I'm Victoria. Obviously." I attempt a friendly smile. I can't get over how
awkward I must look right now. I've never met a girl my age.
"Hi," Kylie says. After an awkward moment of silence, she continues, "You can have that
bed." I sit down on the bed she points at.
"So," Ava says. "Why weren't you at Evergreen before?"
~ 55 ~
"I was taken from my parents when I was young," I say. "I've been living on the streets."
The girls exchange looks.
"Which sector?" Willow finally asks.
"All of them," I shrug. The girls gasp.
"All of them?"
"How?"
"What was Pangea like?"
"What was Kenor like?"
"Have you been to Rose Statue?"
"Have you seen Peacock High School?"
"How did you survive?"
When they finally stop talking, I try to answer their questions. I tell them about
Amasia's beautiful parks and nature reserves, Pangea's busy factories, Kenor's faultless
soldiers, Rodinia's exceptional fashions, Laurasia's nosy geniuses, Columbia's massive size,
and Nova's breathtaking athletes. Then I introduce them to Echo, whom they fall in love with
immediately with her quirky attitude and adorable face.
All too soon, a loud buzzing sound fills the hallways for a few seconds.
"There's the bell!" Holly says. The girls get up and start walking to the door. I follow
them.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Dinner!"
It turns out that the enormous Dining Hall is the floor with the walls made of glass
windows. Looking outside, I can tell that there isn't as much pollution out here than there is in
the sectors. It's kind of like Amasia.
Apparently the Evergreen get their food from agents who still live in the sectors, who
sneak as much food as they can, depending on their rations, to Headquarters every day.
Each table waits their turn to be called on to get food from a big long table up front. The
food includes potatoes, chicken, soup, and sandwiches. I don't know about everyone else, but
I'm extremely grateful to not have to eat leftovers.
After dinner we go back to our room and chat some more until we fall asleep.
The next day is the worst day of my life. And that's saying a lot.
Flynn gets Evan and I up at about 3:00 A.M. in the morning. He takes us to our
parents. My father is awake and sitting up, looking at my mom. They moved his bed closer to
hers, and they whisper to each other.
My mother's face is ashen, and her breaths shallow. Evan and I rush to her side,
elbowing past the doctors and nurses.
"Evan," my mom whispers, her eyes glassy. "Victoria. I'm sorry."
"No, Mom," Evan says. He's crying, the tears streaking down his face. I should probably
be crying too. But I just feel numb.
"Shh," my mother says. "I want you to know...I always loved you."
"I love you too, Mom," Evan sobs.
After a moment, I manage to whisper, "I love you, too."
My mother musters a tiny split second smile. "You'll grow up to be great people."
We sit there with her until the light leaves her eyes, and the doctors nudge us away. I
don't know where the dead go in the sectors. It's certainly different here anyway.
Evan, Echo, and I stand outside of the room while the doctors do whatever they do
inside. I glance at Evan. I can't relate to his grief. He grieves because he just lost someone he
was close to. I grieve because I just lost my mother, and I never even got to know her. I'm glad
Echo's here though. She should be there for all the important moments of my life.
I know now that it can't wait. If the sectors gave her this disease, they must have a
cure. Maybe I can save my father.
That day at breakfast, Dr. Stitch breaks the news to Evergreen. When he does, it is
silent for about five minutes. Then people start whispering to each other. I catch parts of their
sentences.
"She was such a good leader."
~ 56 ~
"She was so kind and compassionate."
"She cared to much for our cause."
"There will never be another woman like her."
Now is when I feel the tears rising in my throat. I push them down, because I know
what comes next, and I can't be crying for it.
"Now Evergreen has only one leader," Dr. Stitch says. "And that leader is sick. So as
much as it pains me to take away the leadership from the Evergreen family, I must lead the
Evergreen Agency." I get the feeling that he is not nearly as pained as he is trying to make us
think. Dr. Stitch continues, "There are changes I would like to-"
I step forward, Echo beside me. "I am afraid I must object," I say. I feel the eyes of
everyone in the room on me. Evan hurriedly steps forward and stands beside me.
I pull out the envelope. Evan glances at me in surprise. He didn't see me take it from
his room. "This envelope contains a document that my mother wrote herself. She wants Evan
Evergreen and I to lead the Evergreen Agency."
Dr. Stitch looks at us. He is trying to portray sympathy for the poor little kids in his
expression, but I see right through it. He's angry. He wants to be leader, and he's angry that we
have proof that he's not.
"But you are just children," he says, his voice dripping with venom disguised as honey.
"You need training. You can lead Evergreen when you are old enough."
"No," I say. "My mother wanted us to be leader. Now."
"I think we can talk about this later," Dr. Stitch says smoothly. "You will be escorted to
your rooms."
"No-" Evan begins to say. But four people dressed in dark green jackets with gold
buttons come and grab us by the arms. They half-drag us to our rooms. Echo and I are thrown
onto Kylie's bed, and I can't register what's going on before I hear the lock to the door click. I'm
locked in. But the girls will have to unlock me when they come in.
Soon I hear whispers of shoes slipping against tile, and the girls flood into the room,
filling it with their presences. They almost seem surprised to see me.
"Victoria!" Mia says. I wave hello.
"I can't believe he said that," Ava says. "Victoria, we have guards now! And we can't go
on missions without getting 'official permission from a commander.' Can you believe it? I can't
believe this!"
I thought this might happen, but I didn't think I'd get so lucky.
"I would much rather have you and Evan as our leaders than Stitch," Samantha says
Dr. Stitch's name with disgust. This is all I need. They want me to be their leader. But I also
need to save my father. How can I overthrow Dr. Stitch and still get the cure from the sectors?
Which should I do first? I need a plan.
Once my plan is relatively solid, I make my way to the door of Evan's room. It says
"GBRWB16-20#8." I push open the door.
Boy's rooms are very different from girls'. Evan's room is smelly and full of
rambunctious boys standing on the beds and laughing with their big, deep voices.
I walk straight to Evan.
"Victoria," he greets me. He has stubble on his chin and his eyes are red.
"Evan," I nod to him in greeting. "I have a plan. We need to split the job."
"What job?"
"You're going to go to the sectors, and find a cure for dad," I say. "I'll stay back and
watch Dr. Stitch's every move. I'll make us the leaders."
Evan's brow creases in the middle. "All right. Will you be okay here, alone?"
"I'll be fine," I say. "You need a HoverCar."
"I can get one," Evan says.
"Good," I say. "Go to the Sector Council Building in Columbia. Act like you're the janitor
or something. They've got to have labs or something in there where they made the disease. The
cure should be there too. Don't get caught." I find myself doubting if I shouldn't be the one to
get the cure. But I resign myself to taking over Evergreen. Evan and I would keep in touch. The
~ 57 ~
girls in my bedroom told me that the electronic watches are for the "important people" to
communicate with each other on missions.
"When should I go? And I heard we need permission to leave HQ now," Evan says.
I didn't think of that. "Aren't you a commander?"
"I still need to tell them where I'm going," Evan says.
"Tell them...you're getting an android," I say. Evan raises an eyebrow.
"What? I have my own android," I say.
"No need to be defensive," Evan says. "I'll say it. I can't think of anything better."
So it's decided. Evan will leave tomorrow to get his "android." He'll get the cure. And I'll
start stalking Dr. Stitch.
The next day, Dr. Stitch leaves Headquarters at 1:23 in the afternoon. Echo and I follow
him. When I see him heading towards a HoverCar, I start analyzing the trees near me.
When he starts driving, I'm leaping from branch to branch like a monkey, but
stealthier, like a leopard. I'm wearing tight-fit black leggings and a dark green jacket with no
hood. The only thing the branches occasionally catch on it my hair, which is pulled back in a
ponytail. I blend in wonderfully with my surroundings, and Dr. Stitch doesn't appear to notice
me.
But unfortunately, Dr. Stitch leaves the forest, and starts driving towards the door in
the ground that leads to the tunnel we walked through earlier.
"Echo," I say. I'm still standing at the edge of the forest, staring at Stitch's HoverCar's
dwindling shape. "I think we might need Buzz."
"Indeed, I think we might," Echo says slyly. A tiny round door opens in Echo's head,
where an ear would be. A small gray platform, like a runway, slides out. "BuzzCam 24, cleared
for takeoff," Echo says.
A mini-droid shoots out of Echo's head along the runway, skimming my ear. As it flies
off after Dr. Stitch, I turn to Echo. "Really?"
"What?" She says as she slides the runway back into her head, and closes the door. "It's
cool."
I sigh. "All right," I say. "Let's see what Buzz has to show us."
Echo exposes the screen in her belly, and it lights up. It shows the footage that the
camera on "Buzz" is taking.
Buzz has flown right up to Dr. Stitch's car and has attached itself to the roof. Echo and
I watch as Dr. Stitch drives though Amasia. Then he skims along the edge of Rodinia. On the
other side of Rodinia, Dr. Stitch stops and gets out of the car. He's talking to someone on his
electronic watch, but it's not a call to anyone in Evergreen. I turn up the volume, and Dr.
Stitch's voice comes through.
"I should be there in maybe an hour. I'm in Rodinia." Pause. "It'll take me an hour
because Pangea is the biggest sector to drive through." Pause. "I'll stay out of their way. I'll say
I'm a Business Owner." Pause. "Fine then, I won't say I'm a businessman. Just don't worry
about it. I'm not going to be late for this." Then he hangs up. Buzz waits outside while Dr.
Stitch uses the restroom, then follows him as he grabs a snack from the nearest cafe. Then Dr.
Stitch gets back into the HoverCar. I look up at Echo's face.
"Stitch is going all the way through Pangea," I say.
"There's nothing over there, though," Echo says. I already realized what was over there,
however. My mind is already searching my memory, locating every suspicious thing Dr. Stitch
has said in the short time I've known him. Once my mind has confirmed that it makes sense, I
tell Echo. Then I call Evan.
"Victoria?" Evan's voice comes over my earpiece.
"Evan, I figured something out," I say into my electronic watch. "Stitch is working for
the Blue Crow."
There's a pause, and then Evan says, "Are you sure?"
I hesitate. Am I sure? He never said anything about it, and he isn't physically at their
Headquarters yet. "Ninety-nine percent sure," I decide to say.
"All right," Evan says. "What are going to do?"
~ 58 ~
"I'll...Don't worry. I'll figure it out. I'll tell Evergreen...I might follow him...I don't know.
But I'll figure it out." Then I hang up. I immediately call Holly at Evergreen.
"Holly, it's me, Victoria," I say. "I'm going to send you something. It's a video that a
BuzzCam took. Show it to Evergreen."
"Where did you get a BuzzCam?" Holly asks. "Just kidding, don't answer that. I'll show
it at dinner."
I thank her and hang up. Then we watch through the BuzzCam as Dr. Stitch starts
driving through Pangea.
"What are you going to do?" Echo asks me after a few minutes. "I know what you're
thinking."
"There's no benefit of me going, though," I say. "I should go help Evan."
"Either way, you're heading to the sectors," Echo says.
"You're right," I say. "Let's just go there."
So we go to Amasia. From there we can either go to Rodinia or to Columbia. We go to
Columbia, of course. When I'm standing on the same street as the Sector Council Building, I
call Evan one more time.
"How are things going?" I ask.
"No one's questioning my janitor outfit," he says. "I've found a couple of labs. I'm
guessing it's smartest to wait until nighttime to check them out, though."
"Yeah," I agree. "I'm on Parkinson Avenue. I'll be heading to Pangea soon, though."
"Whoa! You're right outside!" Evan exclaims. "Wait, I can see you out the window." I
glance up at the Sector Council Building, wondering which window he's in. "I'm good, though,"
he continues. "I hope it stays that way. Nice seeing you, though!" Then he hangs up.
Echo and I travel all the way across Columbia, then we head north to Pangea. We go all
the way across that sector, emerging on the other side to see that the sun set while we were
under Pangea's cloaked sky. Our lungs feel dirty with pollutants. Or at least that's how I feel.
Echo probably feels differently.
Thanks to Buzz, we can find our way to Blue Crow Headquarters somewhat easily. It's
practically on the opposite side of the sectors from Evergreen Headquarters. A few black
HoverCars are parked outside of the brick building. Brick. Good to know.
Now is when Holly decides to call me.
"Victoria!" She says.
"Hey," I say.
"Dr. Stitch, he's working for the Blue Crow?!"
"Good to hear you figured it out," I say.
"Where are you?" Holly asks.
"I'm standing a couple hundred feet from the front door of Blue Crow Headquarters," I
say.
"257 feet and 4 inches," Echo says.
"Oh," is all Holly manages to say when I repeat that to her. "Why?"
"I'm actually not sure," I say. "What did everyone at Headquarters think when you
showed them the video?"
"Some people don't believe Stitch is working for Blue Crow," Holly says. "But I think
most people believe it. People are talking about electing you and Evan as leaders."
"Good," I murmur. "Try to encourage that. Do you think I should confront Stitch?"
"You could do that," Holly says. "But you and Echo would be alone. Or you could come
here, and all of us can confront him when he comes back."
That idea is appealing. But there's something I heard when Dr. Stitch was talking...
"Dr. Stitch said he won't be late for whatever they're going to do," I say. "Which means
it's important. I'll try to figure it out, then come back to Evergreen."
"All right," Holly says. "Be safe." She hangs up.
I turn back to the BuzzCam. Dr. Stitch is rushing down a hallway. I hope the
BuzzCam's camouflage is good enough. We can't have anyone noticing the mini-droid.
Dr. Stitch turns into an elaborate room with a huge holograph table in the center. It
looks like the room used to be a Virtual Reality theater. A map of Nova is displayed on the
~ 59 ~
holograph, with all it's 3D trees, houses, gyms, and streets. A desk with a screen covering it's
face is in the back. There are seats all along the walls, arranged to face the center of the room.
Almost all of the seats are filled.
As soon as Dr. Stitch sits down, somebody starts talking. I bring the volume up.
"Commanders of the Blue Crow," the BuzzCam pans to a man in a tuxedo standing by
the holograph table. "We have come here today to speak about the conquering of Nova, but first
I have an announcement to make. One of Evergreen's leaders, Chloe Evergreen, died yesterday
of our disease. Her husband, Sebastian Evergreen, will succumb next. Dr. Nicolas Stitch has
gained control of Evergreen. This is cause for celebration." Everyone in the room applauds
politely. They're applauding the death of my mother. But that's not it. I look up at Echo's face.
"Did you hear that?" I ask.
"It's still echoing around in my head," she answers.
"Was that supposed to be a joke?" I stand up. "I have to call Evan."
"Hi, Victoria," Evan answers when I call him. "Is everything all right?"
"No," I say. "Blue Crow made the disease, Evan! Blue Crow killed mom, not the sectors!
And they're planning on taking over Nova. Today!"
Evan is silent for a moment. "So what are we going to do?"
"Well, you need to get out of there immediately," I say. "Then we need to get Evergreen
to Blue Crow Headquarters, so we can stop them from invading Nova, and maybe get the cure."
"I can go to Evergreen and get them," Evan says. "What will you do?"
"I can stay here," I say. "I'll keep watch on the BuzzCam. And I'll send you a video. Show
it to Evergreen."
"All right," Evan says. "Bye, Victoria." Then he hangs up. Echo and I head back to the
Sector Wall. I sit down with my back against it. Echo lights up her belly, and I listen to the
meeting that Dr. Stitch is in. The same man who was talking before goes over their plan. They
will be sending troops to surround the Nova Wall and troops to go in through the gates.
"This must be executed perfectly," the man says. "Because if Nova manages to call
Kenor or Columbia for help, we're doomed." That's true. Nova is the most southeast sector, and
north of it is Kenor, and west of it is Columbia. The Blue Crow will be surrounded with the
greatest armies in the sectors.
The moon is high in the sky when I hear something different from the BuzzCam.
Everyone has gotten up, and more people have flooded into the room. Men with blue crow pins
on their navy blue jackets get into perfectly straight lines, forming 10-by-10 blocks of men, led
by one or two commanders.
They're attacking, I realize. Right now.
I call Evan as fast as I can. "Are you coming?" I ask frantically.
"Yes, we're on our way," Evan says. I can hear background noise of a big crowd of
people. "Are you all right?"
"The Blue Crow are preparing to attack," I say. "They look like an army. There's so many
of them."
"We're going all the way around the Sector Wall," Evan says. "We're on your side of
Pangea right now."
"Hurry up," I say.
"Ok," Evan says. "Evergreen!" he shouts. "Double your speed! Double! Double!" Then he
starts talking to me again. "We should be there in a few minutes."
"All right," I say. "See you soon."
Ten tense minutes later, I see and hear Evergreen rounding the bend of the Sector Wall.
Dressed in dark green clothing, the Evergreen are placed in lines just as tight as the Blue
Crow. They march in synchronization, and their tremors make the ground rumble. But Buzz
shows me that the Blue Crow is on the move as well. People have almost finished filing out of
the meeting room, and two guards have opened the doors of the Blue Crow Headquarters.
The Blue Crow begin marching out just as the front Evergreen troops come upon me.
Buzz gives us an aerial view of the Blue Crow troops from the top of the door.
~ 60 ~
Evan, who is leading Evergreen, stations a line of people, three layers thick, along the
Sector Wall, preventing the Blue Crow from getting in. We may hate the sectors, but we hate
violence even more. The rest of Evergreen starts marching to meet the Blue Crow.
By the time we meet them, the moon is past its highest point in the sky. The two armies
stop, facing each other. Evan is in front, facing the man that talked at the meeting earlier, Dr.
Stitch, and three other men. The man that talked at the meeting stepped forward.
"I'm sorry about your mother, Evan," he says.
"No, you aren't," Evan replies, his teeth clenched. "You killed her."
The man's eyes are cold, calculating. He's trying to find out how much we know. But I
can't stop that now. I run to a group of Evergreen kids on the sides.
"Hey," I say to get their attention. "I'm going to put you into groups, and assign you a
side. You're going to try to get into Blue Crow Headquarters on that wall, and we're going to
search for the lab rooms. We want to find a cure for the disease that killed my mother. Got it?"
They nod. I hurriedly assign them groups, then we get on the HoverBikes that Evergreen
brought with them. We take a wide berth of the Blue Crow army. I can listen in on Evan's and
the Blue Crow leader's conversation from Buzz, because I brought Echo with me. Evan's trying
to negotiate. Or maybe he's just buying time.
We split up and go in our different directions once we reach the Blue Crow HQ building.
I go with Holly, Samantha, and Willow, who are going in through the right-side wall. There is a
door on the right wall, but it is locked. I'm feeling frantic; we're running out of time.
"Try to break it open," I instruct Holly. "I'll get the windows." Before she can ask
questions, I'm high above her head. It's easy for me to break the window open, and I end up in
an abandoned classroom. The dust makes me want to sneeze, but I resist the temptation and
walk out of the classroom and into a hallway. Lucky for me, all the doors are labeled.
Forgetting about Holly, Samantha, and Willow back on the ground, I run through the hallways,
glancing at doors, searching for anything labeled Laboratory, or maybe Diseases to Kill
Evergreen Leaders and Ruin Their Children's Lives.
Finally, after running into all the other groups except my own, we find a door labeled
"Laboratory 6." We push our way in, wasting no time. We find a sterile white room with long
white tables and huge cabinets lining the right and left walls. I run along the walls, reading the
labels. After what seems forever, I break into a cabinet labeled "Cures." My fingers are shaking
now, my heart pumping so loud it fills my head. I don't even know why I'm so anxious. There
seemed to be no one in the building. But the Blue Crow could be attacking Evergreen now; they
might have harmed my brother, my only healthy family member left...
Inside the cabinet there are rows upon rows of labels. I'm getting so frustrated on how
long this is taking. I have to look through all of these? My eyes scan the labels, but I can hardly
make sense of them. A hand reaches in front of me and grabs a vial.
"Evergreen Virus Cure," Charlotte says.
"Thank you," I breathe gratefully. "Now everyone, take a few. We want as many as we
can, but we have to be able to run if we can't get them on the bikes in time."
Arms and pockets loaded with vials, we scurry out of the building. We meet Holly,
Samantha, and Willow on the way. They had given up and come through the front door. When
we get outside, I take a look around as the others dump their vials in the compartments in the
HoverBikes.
Evergreen has the Blue Crow under some kind of siege. The only way I can tell who is
who is by the color of their outfits. Evergreen has formed a huge circle around Blue Crow HQ,
army, helicopters, and weapons.
"Look!" Echo says, pointing into the sky. The sun is rising, and by its feeble light I see
the silhouettes of helicopters buzzing over the Pangea Sector Wall. A Sector Guard had
probably alerted the authorities. When they realize that it's a real problem, we'll have a real
army on our hands. The Kenor and Columbia armies were strong, clever, fast, and overall
lethal. We couldn't let that happen.
"So much for secrecy," Echo says glumly. I catch Flynn's face in the crowd. He's
scowling hard trying to prevent the Blue Crow from boarding their own helicopters. I wildly
scanned the crowd for Evan. I finally caught his dusty blonde hair near Dr. Stitch and his
~ 61 ~
fellow leaders. As I watch, four men in navy blue outfits surround Evan and start dragging him
towards a HoverBus. I watch helplessly as they shoved him into the bus. They bound his
hands and feet before locking him in.
"No!" I screamed as they began driving away. I ran, out of instinct rather than logic. I
was powerless as they started driving towards Blue Crow Headquarters. The battlefield was
only a square mile, but it felt as if they were taking my brother across the world.
"Victoria!" Mia's calling me, gesturing for me to get on a bike.
I shake my head. "Get the cure to my dad!" I shout. "And the other sick people! I'll stay
here." Mia's eyes are full to the brim with concern, but she turns and leaves with the others
anyway.
I turn to run towards the Blue Crow leaders, but then the whole field goes silent and
everyone looks up. A dozen helicopters are hovering over the field. They all have the same sign
on their sides, a circle divided into seven sections with symbols for each sector: A blue and red
bomb for Kenor, a blue and purple test tube for Columbia, a green and blue book for Laurasia,
a fuchsia and mahogany dress for Rodinia, a red and yellow factory for Pangea, a pink and
green tree for Amasia, and an orange and gray lifting weight for Nova.
One helicopter lands in front of the Blue Crow leaders. A woman gets out; she's dressed
in the daunting uniform of a Kenor soldier. I begin making my way towards her so I can hear
the conversation.
"What organization are you associated with?" She asks.
"The Blue Crow," one of the leaders says boldly.
"Where are your leaders?" The woman asks.
"We are the leaders," the man gestures to his four companions.
The woman nods. A young man beside her seems to be taking notes. "What are you
doing?"
"An organization called Evergreen Agency is attempting to cause a dispute in the
sectors," Dr. Stitch says. "We're trying to stop them."
"No," I say, almost snorting in disbelief. The woman looks at me in surprise. "It is
obvious that we are stopping you from trying to kill everybody in Nova."
I catch an odious grimace on Dr. Stitch's face before it is wiped away with a pitying
countenance. "The child is confused."
"Commander?" I say challengingly. "I have been living on the streets of the sectors for
almost a decade; my parents were kicked out of the sectors and I was left to die on the side of
the road as a baby. But I survived. I found out about Evergreen and met my parents and my
brother only three days ago for the first time in eight years. The Blue Crow created a virus that
killed my mother two days ago. My brother and I were put in charge of Evergreen before she
died. I learned only yesterday that Dr. Stitch, who was in Evergreen, was apparently a spy for
the Blue Crow the whole time. I learned that they were planning to attack the sector of Nova. I
have a video of proof. I brought Evergreen to stop them. As you can see, we have prevented
them from proceeding for the time being; we would appreciate it if you could help, but if you
refuse to do so, well, we can only hold them back for so long before they decide to use their
weapons against us, and then you have a massacre on your hands."
The commander just stands there blinking at me for a few seconds. I vaguely hear Dr.
Stitch saying I'm just a child, confused and innocent. But not even the commander pays him
any attention. She's staring into my eyes, and I return her gaze undaunted. She looks
uncertain; I hate to put this big decision on her hands, but I don't really have a choice.
"Where is your brother?" She finally asks.
"They kidnapped him," I point at the Blue Crow leaders before Dr. Stitch can say any
more of his despicable excuses.
This seems to make the decision for the commander, and she nods at me. "What should
we do with these guys?" She asks me.
Taking a moment to revel in the fact that a Kenor commander, a leader of the best
armies, is asking me what to do, I say, "Your choice. You could lock them up in their own
headquarters, which might be faster. But then they'd probably have access to their weapons
~ 62 ~
and vehicles. Or you could put them in one of your prisons, though that would be more
difficult and time-consuming."
After a moment of consideration, the commander says, "I can bring in more troops. We
can bring them to our prison."
I nod. "Good idea."
After speaking into her electronic watch, explaining to someone the situation, she
extends her hand. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. I guess you're kind of the enemy, but not
really, because you saved the sectors even though you hate them."
Hesitantly shaking her hand, I say, "We don't hate the people in the sectors. None of us
do. They're innocent. That's what the Blue Crow doesn't care about. They're willing to murder
innocent people just to get to the real enemy."
"I can't believe this," the commander says, looking out across the crowd. "You've been
living on the streets for a decade, and all these people...were just left to die?"
I nod solemnly. Soon enough, more helicopters come buzzing overhead. Kenor troops
descend and begin rounding up everyone in the Blue Crow. Some fight, others claim they're
part of Evergreen even in their navy blue outfits. Dr. Stitch struggles against his captors, but
he's not nearly as fit.
"We get a trial, right?" He yells frantically. His eyes are wide, wild. "I helped Evergreen
though! I didn't have a choice! Blue Crow - they forced me into this!" But all his screaming is
futile, as the Kenor soldiers haul him off without breaking a sweat.
The sun is high by the time the helicopters leave with the Blue Crow. I had stood in the
same spot mostly the whole time, answering a bombardment of questions. Now I begin to
realize how tired I am. My eyelids are heavy, and I'm getting a headache from the hectic noise.
I'm glad to see Evan when they set him free, but I can barely lift my hand to wave. I hop on a
HoverBike with him with pleasure. We ride back to Evergreen Headquarters, where I crash in
my bed all day.
I finally wake up, mostly from hunger, right before dinner. I fix my hair and brush my
teeth before heading to the Dining Hall.
Apparently I've become a celebrity, but I'm more excited to hear that the antidote
worked on my father, and that, though it will take a while, he will get better. But for now, Evan
and I are the leaders of Evergreen.
The commander, whose name is Commander Jill, tells me that the sector governments
were alarmed with the uprising, and even more alarmed at the amount of weapons they found
in Blue Crow Headquarters. It turns out a lot of people who didn't even know about Evergreen
or the Blue Crow disliked the sector system as well, hating the strict rules about jobs, personal
items, curfew, food rations, etc.
"It will take a while, but I think that you guys made the governments scared enough to
change their ways," she told me.
Now I look around at the whole of Evergreen in the Dining Hall, thinking about her
words. We're safe. I have Echo, but I also have friends, and a brother, and a father. And they're
all safe. Blue Crow was taken care of, and the citizens of the sectors will be set free from the
inequality and confinement of the sectors. I'll be able to sleep in a bed every day, and eat my
own food. And the people of Evergreen, who were thrown out to die, who were saved by
welcoming arms, who have worked their whole lives for this; they will flourish, even in the dark
wintry times, they will stay alive, they will stay ever green, even when the world around them
has gone dull and hopeless and cold, they will stand tall and strong and brave.
Hannah
~ 63 ~
Taylor
Kylee
Sammie
Olivia
~64~
“A Candle’s Life”
Life is a candle.
At first, the candle
glimmers and provides
warmth for other people.
Once the wick disappears,
other people feel sorrow
for the heart
that has stopped beating.
When a flame
dies down,
new opportunities appear,
as the wick is ignited again.
The wax
of the candle reduces
as a person’s
years pass by.
The flame of
a candle can
be spread to other
candles just like
knowledge can be
shared between people.
“Metaphor Poem”
Life is like an Undiscovered Galaxy
Dark and alone, hiding in the shadows
where no one seems to know.
Waiting to be seeked out
Like the possibilities, like the future of
breaking free
Like an Undiscovered Galaxy
Beautiful shining on its own
Like a Pen with Pencils
Like coal and diamonds
Sparkling and shining a light
Upcoming brilliance, and acceptance
Turning into the direction that is right
With the shining light
Pushing through The boundaries
Accomplished it all, known as the best
Opening the gates
Made it through the fire depth, now is
Crown with respect
Anish
Vanessa
“Galaxies”
“Life Is a Wrestling Match”
Just stay calm and cool for the chance to
take your shot.
Ponder your moves in your head,
Don’t let life’s challenges cloud your
thoughts,
Every point counts.
Sometimes a grasp of air is needed to refuel
your mind and body,
Feel his strong shoulder ease down into the
mat.
There is no winner until you hear the
sudden slap of the hand to the mat,
Just as each day brings victories and
defeats.
The referee raises your hand above your
head,
You’re a winner and a very grand feeling
sparks inside of you.
Life is like an undiscovered Galaxy,
Endless possibilities.
92 billion light years as we know it,
Trillions to be found.
Work has to be done to discover new things.
But, it will make a better you
The stars shine bright, so can you.
Take up opportunities,
Your time on earth is nothing compared to
this galaxy
You have one lifetime to make things right,
your way.
Why follow other people,
while you have an entire undiscovered
Galaxy to feed on.
Jason
~ 65 ~
Charlotte
Stuffed Treasures
It was a humid summer day. The festival was booming with life, something about the young vibes
that attracted people. The games, the rides, but mostly the people. The constant noise of chatter,
laughing, and even screaming as they were spun upside down on “the zipper”. The couples holding
hands, the teens aggravating the bands playing, the groups of friends excitedly waiting in line for a ride;
all of it was great. All through that blur of people and colors, was little Harmony, grasping her mother’s
hand. The little girl pointed to a stuffed animal fox, hanging from the wall in a booth. The game was
classic; knock down the cans with a baseball. She pulled her mother’s yellow sundress until she looked.
“Can we play that game?” she stared at the fox. Her mother fished in her purse until she pulled
out a crumpled five dollar bill.
“Only this game, because they are expensive,” she said. The girl nodded and waddled over to the
booth. The man turned his head to the girl, who could barely reach over the side.
She tugged on her mother’s dress again, and whispered “Mommy, can I have the five dollars
please?” Her mother chuckled and put it in her palm. The girl reached up and slapped the money onto the
booth. “One game, please”
“What a polite little lady” he chuckled, turned around, grabbed a ball and gave it to her all in one
swift movement. She reached up to grab with a look of curiosity on her face, and examined the ball. The
man of the booth smirked. “Just knock over the cans.” He moved to the side and opened his arms to the
pyramid of cans, like he was presenting a magic trick.
Her mother leaned down and whispered in her ear, “ Hit it with your best shot, Harmony.”
Harmony looked at the fox for inspiration. She took a deep breath, stepped back, and held the ball with
two hands and brought it behind her head. Her mother chuckled at the way she was trying to throw it.
Harmony swung her arms forward at the cans. The ball flew at the bottom corner of the cans, but
managed to make them topple over. The girl jumped and laughed. “Good job!” said her mother as she
lifted her up to see the prizes.
“Pick a prize, any prize,” said the man.
Harmony pointed at the fox. It almost felt like it was staring at her, in a comforting way. The man
took it off the wall and handed it to the little girl slowly. Harmony grabbed it quickly and hugged it tightly.
“You have to name it,” her mother said as she put her back down.
Harmony thought. “I have to get to know her better though… So I know what to name her,”
Harmony said quietly, glaring at the fox.
Her mother smiled. “Smart. Let’s go home; it’s getting dark.” She grabbed her mother’s hand, and
they began walking. Home was right across the street from the fest. At night it started to get wild.
The next day she decided to name the fox Zink.
~ 66 ~
Many years later Zink was passed down to her children, and her children’s children, and
eventually to a thrift store. It had many owners. So when buying things from other people, try to imagine
its historical or just ecstatic value it had on the people before you. Back before phones, when stuffed
animals were fun toys. A twinkle on someone’s timeline.
Rion
Suzie
~ 67 ~
The Dreams
4:00, the clock read on top of the pitch black cabinet. Only 2 more hours until I need to actually wake up. Again I
had a nightmare. I go through the same routine every day. First I have a nightmare, then wake up at exactly 4:00,
then go to bed, have a happy dream, and wake up at exactly 5:59. “I only wonder what this happy dream will be
about today,” I spoke to myself. The clock ticked 4:01 and I was gone.
“Why does this keep happening?” I asked myself. The clock was reading 5:59, again. I lay in my bed
smiling. For some reason all I can think about is winning the lottery. My parents bought only one ticket, and our
odds are in millions. But for some sort of reason I just have that feeling. A noise came from the clock, scaring me
for a second. 6:00. My alarm was ringing and I quickly clicked snooze while leaping out of my bed. I happily ran
down the stairs. I first ate breakfast, then got dressed, and then when I was brushing my teeth, I felt a sudden change
in my tone. I saw images of my friend, Will. The ground was splitting between us. He tried to run but slipped and
fell.
“Michael! Hurry up, you’re going to miss the bus.” The voice rang in my head. The images went away and I
realized my toothbrush was still relaxing in my mouth. I turned to look at the clock. 6:38! I had been standing there
for 20 minutes! I really quickly spit out the toothpaste and ran down stairs. I grabbed my backpack and ran toward
the bus, which was waiting there for me.
“Late again, Mike?” The voice came from the seat I was heading to. I knew it had to be Will, because that
was the only kid I let call me Mike.
“Yeah, I’m just lucky I made it,” I whispered out of breath.
The high school pulled up and we all got off the bus. Will and I have both been late for so many days that if we
were late one more time we would have a detention. We continued to walk towards the school until,
“Help!” I turned around and saw Will getting tied to a metal pole. I ran toward the two bullies, trying to punch
one, but he moved out of the way and the other grabbed me. They tied me to another pole and left us out here.
30 minutes later, a kid finally found us, untied us, and we ran straight for the school. “Thanks,” I shouted as I ran.
But right when we got in,
“Detention, both of you,” shouted the principal. Will and I slowly backed away with our heads hanging down.
***
Detention started at 2:45 and now it was 3:57. I was reading Earth Science, trying to finish my science
homework. I was on the section of the earthquakes, and I was so bored, that I checked the clock again, 3:59. I sat
there thinking about the images. A loud noise shook the room. The teacher screamed and ran out of the room. The
images must of dazed me, because I didn't even realize I was walking right toward the teacher’s desk. I saw a label
reading Don't Touch. For some strange reason I picked the object up. It had a magnet on the end with a circle
attached to it. The circle almost looked like a bracelet, so I put it on and walked toward my desk.
“Mike! Come on Michael” I woke up with Will shaking me, a few tears in his eyes. I turned my head, but saw
nobody in the room except Will and I. I tried to stand up but I was stuck to the desk. The magnet bracelet I was
wearing must of been so powerful, you can't get it off of the metal. I tried to slip the bracelet off, but It was too small
and my hand was too big.
~ 68 ~
“Help me, Will” I screamed as he searched for something to cut it. He looked in all the drawers on the teacher’s
desk until he came across a gigantic pair of scissors. He cut me free and we tried to run out of the room. Crash! The
ceiling split open and fell. “What's happening?” I asked.
“An earthquake!” He answered.
“What!” We ran around trying to avoid the cracking ground. A big pole supporting the ceiling split right in front
of me and behind, Will. “Are you okay?” I shouted.
“Yeah, I'm okay,” I tried to find a way to get over the fallen pole, but it was just too tall
“I'll be right back” I shouted to him. I ran across the school looking for something, anything. I searched the office,
the cafeteria, and a lot of classes. Finally, I ran back to the pole, without anything to help. I called for him over the
pole. He didn't respond. I tried jumping to look if he was there, but there was a giant hole in the ground and he
wasn't there.
“Mike,” he grabbed me by the shoulder. “Come on,” Will grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the
school entrance door. I didn't even bother asking him how he got out. Only 5 seconds later, Will slipped and slid
right into the wall. I got to the door and started calling for Will. He slowly got up and started running towards me.
While he was running the ground cracked beneath him and he fell in.
“No!” I screamed running and catching him. I tried to pull him up, but the more I pulled, the more the ground
beneath me cracked. I gave one giant pull and my knees slipped as the ground cracked. My grip let go and Will fell
through the ground, getting crushed by the earthquake.
I tried getting up, but I was so dizzy and confused that I almost ran into a wall. I was hurting bad on the inside and
was so dizzy, I fell over. I couldn't get up, so I just had to wait there.
Finally, people came in lifting me up and bringing me outside. “No!” I started to scream. “Will, I need Will!” I
tried getting out of the people's arms. I tried to punch them but one of them said something,
“Grab the shot” I looked at their clothes and realized they were medics.
“No!” I screamed and then they jabbed the shot into my back making me black out.
***
“50 million dollars. And the winner is…” I woke really fast with the T.V on right in front of me. “Lucky
numbers,” the T.V spoke. I knew this was the lottery, because the person speaking was from the show. The only
question I had was, how long had I been sleeping? “3...2...9…” I pulled out my lottery ticket and checked the
number. “5… And 7” the card matched! Now the only thing I need is the Powerball. “The Powerball number is…
31”
“I won,” I whispered quietly, “I actually won!” I jumped out of the bed, just now realizing I was in a hospital. I
ran out of the room and to the front desk.
“I see you’re awake Mr. Michael,” said the nurse as I tried to walk out of the building. “You can go, I'll alert the
head nurse,” she said again. I ran out of the hospital trying to see where I was. With all the wreckage from the
earthquake, I couldn't tell where I was. I noticed that the sun was gone, which meant it had to be pretty late. I went
back into the hospital and asked what time it was.
“5:59,” she answered. I went back outside and found my mom right in front of my face.
~ 69 ~
“Mom, we won! We won the lottery!” I shouted. She dropped to her knees with tears filling up her eyes.
“Really?” She asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. My mom was so shocked, she didn't talk to me and just brought me into the car and drove me
home.
***
My mom and I basically just had dinner and played games before I had to go to bed. All I could think of was Will
and how I had dreamed about the earthquake, same with the lottery. Then I went to sleep.
The first dream had started. I was in an open plain standing in snow. I heard growling from the forest about 300
yards away. I ran closer until I saw one big bloodhound walk out of the forest. I started to run away, and the dog
started to run towards me. I was out of breath and the dog was a couple inches away from me. It leaped and tackled
me to the ground. It opened its mouth with fangs and started to move the mouth at my face.
“Ah!” I woke up. 4:00. I looked out the window, and of course it had to be snowing. When the clock ticked 4:01 I
fell to the bed.
The happy dream had begun. I was standing in a room with metal walls and a metal door. The door was locked. A
loud beeping noise echoing through the room. It almost sounded like an alarm, but then a T.V emerged from the
wall. The screen turned on showing Will. “Will!” I shouted.
“Oh come on,” I said as I woke up. “I couldn't have been asleep for 1 more minute. The clock read 5:59 and the
snow was completely covering the ground. “How is this even possible? Will is gone?” The alarm rang and I got up,
ready to go downstairs. But then I remembered school was canceled because of the earthquake. I still ate breakfast
though.
“Mom? Wake up,” I said. “We need to go, now,”
“Why?” She asked
“Just trust me,” so we both got in the car and started driving farther, and farther, until my mom couldn't drive
anymore. We stopped at a hotel, and I just watched T.V while she napped. I was so distracted that when I looked at
the clock it read 3:47. Someone rapped at the door.
“Mom, someone's at the door!” I shouted. She got up and answered it.
“You must leave the building. There is a fire. Run!” A man at the door said. My mom and I both ran out the door
panicking. I thought to myself, this wasn't the bad dream I had. I kept running, until I got out of the door. I got
trampled by a lot of screaming people, and fell to the floor. I tried crawling away but somebody stepped on my head
and I got knocked out.
Once they were all gone I woke up and turned around. The hotel was completely burned down. I struggled to get
to my feet, but when I did I ran to a plain where nobody was. I heard growling coming from the forest 300 yards
away. A big bloodhound came out and started chasing me. The more I ran, the closer it got. I was out of breath and
the dog was a couple inches away from me. It leaped and tackled me to the ground. It opened its mouth, showing its
sharp fangs. Its mouth attacked quickly at my face. I moved my head a little, but the teeth still cut the right of my
face. I squirmed to get out, but it only dug its claws into my legs and started dragging me towards the forest, making
sure that I hit all the bumps, sticks, and rocks until I was out like the light.
~ 70 ~
BEEP! An alarm awoke me so loud I had to hold my ears the whole time. I was in a room with all metal walls and
a locked metal door. There was a clock and a bed. The clock read 5:59. A T.V emerged from the wall, and when it
turned on it showed a picture of Will.
“Will!” I shouted. The background was just a blue sky. “Where are you?”
“Mike, the earthquake was fake. It was just a passageway for people like me who fell in. He flipped the camera,
and it showed tons of people.
“How? This can't be” I started to say.
“It can. All I know is that it was because of you. The man said,”
“What man?” I interrupted.
“When I fell, I first went to this man and he told me that you were the key, and that this was a test for your
dreams I think it was?” He said confused. “Well that’s all I know and then he sent me here.
“But,” the screen closed randomly. “If that wasn't real and they were only testing my “power” then, they must be
planning on using me for something. I could be the key to the future.”
William
Julia
Scholastic Art Show~Honorable Mention
~ 71 ~
“Smaller Than Life”
He above says he loves me, knows every hair on my head
I stand on the planet spec unidentified wondering how
I feel so small and expectations are big, leaving any person confused The
deafening blank in my head tells me I'm nothing more than the rest I am one in
seven billion
I rest in bed with my silenced thoughts wishing there could be more
An impact is what I desire, to do good, but this is truly rare
As the silence in my bed keeps me awake the fear will only grow I can
make a ripple in the vast Atlantic, as long as I tell myself so I am one in
seven billion
Striding, striding, sprinting far, the journey is definitely long
Death is not near so why is there lingering fear? I have time, I have time
I always dream of my life ahead, vast family, a house, and a job
Am I telling myself that this isn't enough? I start questioning enough that is needed
I am one in seven billion
Soon I realize enough is enough and then start to realize,
serving Him with all needs provided, why must attention take over, what greed
The fear of being known is irrelevant if life is fine
I am small yet extraordinary, you'll see
I am one in seven billion
“Dreams to Wait”
Running, sprinting, staggering like I never had before Every single
comfort in my legs flew far far out the door Still I'm must have it,
There must always be some more
My athletic dream that was soon to be, no, there will be no more
Stumbled on my footsteps, swallowed in the pain
The track, the sprints, it was my place to reign
I fear I won't come back, as the beast teased and threatened
This isn't the last competitors have seen me, it’s clearly not over yet
Brooke
~ 72 ~
Miah
“Shining Bright”
I care
I love
I am who I want to be
I care and love because I want to put a smile
On the face o God who loves and cares everlasting.
I am light
I shine bright
I am the Lord’s child
When you are a light of the Lord
You share Him with others
I try to shine brighter and brighter each day.
I am
who I am
And there is no changing that
I am a light of the Lord I am his child
I will shine like a star forever and ever
Till my time has come.
Miah
~ 73 ~
Books With Sad Endings Are Overrated
Books with sad endings are overrated. It's like, come on, if I just spent a whole day of my life
reading a six hundred page novel, I expect to be satisfied with an ending. Considering that on average, I
only have 27,375 days to live in total, and I just wasted a whole one of those precious days, I want to be
happy with a closed, enjoyable conclusion at the end of the story.
Some people may argue that the books where people die in the end, or where true love shatters,
are the ones that showcase truth; the ones that shove reality into our faces and make us see clearly. But
dear God, we are reading for a reason- to get away from reality! So save your pessimistic, no-fun, smashmy-face-with-a-brick endings to yourself, and- I'll even ask kindly- let me take back 1/27,375 of my life
back.
Now, don't think that bad book endings are all that this is about. No, it's really about much more.
As I have previously said, sadness and depression is for reality. Not only because we don't want to read it
in books, but because they are such twisted emotions, such pure essences, that no one can ever
describe the true feeling of them within a limited number of words.
Really, our language is a cage, and everyone is stuffed inside it- our emotions being the big
leaders trying to break through that iron barrier. Except, the barrier is impenetrable, and never, ever, will
emotions break through the wall and help us understand the unfathomable feelings into the fathomable.
So, we are left with one option: learning the emotion through living, and thriving, and perishing, all
at once.
Reality allows us to do this. Our world lets us do this.
Books do not.
Often, I try not to scream in anger, in frustration- annoyance- when someone comes up to me and
describes how sorry they are for me, how they know how I feel, when really, they don't. They think they
know.
They do not.
You see, one would have to experience something to even vaguely think that they know what I
feel. Reading does them no good, because in literature, there are bounds to what can be written.
Sadly though, I can't scream. In fact, I can't even move. Quite actually, I am in a coma.
This is reality.
Thus being said, I have decided to tell you my story- my reality. You have no clue as to what it
feels like to be me, and I have no way of truly showing you what it does. Although, I can do my best to try.
Without further ado, I present to you part of my 4,742 day life.
December 12, 2014. A day before the tragedy.
My reality starts off much like everyone else's- waking up in the dull hours of the morning and
smashing my alarm clock like my life depends on it. (We all know that secretly, it does). I groan, the
sound scratchy and gruff like I just woke up from hibernation for five years. I'm pretty sure that I died and
came back to life.
Here is where things get different.
A tingle catches it's way in my throat, and so frantically, wide awake, I jolt up pin straight in bed,
hacking as a maniac. In between coughing, I have to take awkward gulps for air, resembling a fish trying
to breathe out of water. It's as if I'm being punched in the stomach over and over, except this has less
mercy than a fist.
I don't think that eating the whole packet of Pixy Stix was a good idea at 11 o' clock last night.
In a survival-mode panic, I roughly grab my duvet and throw myself on to the creaky wooden
floorboards of my room. My stomach and lungs begin to complain with each breath and cough, not to
mention my throat is most definitely burning by now. I hunch over, not noticing how my shirt rides up
slightly on my back, and furiously swipe away the tears of pain. I clutch my stomach, willing for the killer
hurting to ease.
If I ever see another Pixy Stix, I think I'll just kill myself.
Slowly, I calm down my breathing, and the need to choke up some imaginary object leaves. A
weird sense of aching replaces the areas that once hurt, and I heave with relief that the hacking episode
~ 74 ~
is over.
What in the world just happened?
Stumbling into the bathroom with my parched tongue dangling out of my mouth was most likely a
strange sight. Especially to my seventeen-year-old sister.
"I swear to God, Mara, if this is another one of those-" Lara's angry voice raises pitches with each
word, but her attention stays on the earring she's adjusting in the mirror. I try to speak, but my voice
doesn't cooperate. All that comes out is loud, hot air, which dries my throat up even more. "-devious tricks
to try and get me-" She turns her attention away from the mirror, and glares at my form for a moment.
That's when she notices my awkward hunched-stance, the wild hair, my pleading eyes, and my glorious
dangling tongue. I lift the corners of my lips the best I can, as if to say, good morning to you, too,
sunshine.
"Oh." Her eyes widen.
I try to say an 'uh-huh' back, but really it just sounds like I'm about to puke.
Shoving her out of the way, I force the tap on, and dunk my head beneath it. Water pours it's way
into my mouth, and for a second there, it was euphoric- the hydrating feeling on my less-than hydrated
face. That was until, I'm embarrassed to say, started choking on the water.
If you couldn't tell, I'm not a very lucky person.
From there, as I was trying to get my head out from under the faucet, my head banged on the
side of the porcelain sink. I grind my teeth to keep from letting out a small scream as a dull throb begins
to pound against the thin walls of my head.
Really, Life? Why do my birthdays always have to start out like this?
I manage to get my head out of the sink, and I think that finally, I've won- that my bad luck streak
for the morning is over.
Well I was wrong.
For some reason, the world hates me with a fiery passion. I'm not sure why, but at this point, it's a
mutual hate-hate relationship.
The tile floor beneath me is slick with water, ready to inflict whatever misfortune it can. Obviously,
I don't notice this looming threat, so I clear my throat, look unembarrassed for my older sister, and blindly
step forward.
That was crucial mistake number one.
My foot slips out from under me, and I slowly fall to my impending doom. Out of instinct, my arm
flails out, hoping to catch myself.
Crucial mistake number two.
Bright pain scales up my arm when it hits the bathtub- as would be expected. And if things
couldn't get worse, I slam my tailbone down hard onto the tile floor. Not quite a crucial mistake, but still
painful enough for me to notice it for a second over my white hot arm.
As of the moment- the split second I had just as my butt impacted the tiles- I had a dilemma. Give
way to the hopeful, free darkness, or stay up and endure lengths of unimaginable pain.
Crucial mistake number three.
--"We need to lock you up in a foam room on your birthdays," Mom fusses, pacing across the
room. She's quite frankly done with my disastrous birthdays.
"Oh, but Mom, somehow she'd still manage to hurt herself," Lara inputs, crossing her arms. I scoff
and roll my eyes, shifting to a more comfortable position on the hospital bed. Rude, much? A fancy
remote control looks interesting on the side of the bed, too, and so I grab it and start pressing the buttons.
I've never been happier in my life.
As it turns out, my wrist was broken, tailbone got bruised, I acquired strep throat in some
unimaginable way, and I stayed conscious for all of it. I don't quite remember choosing between darkness
and light, really. But I do know that when I chose light, my pain didn't ease. It had multiplied by ten. Of
course now, I'm jacked up on pain killers- enough for me to be considered for the circus, but not too many
that my head hurts from them themselves.
Mom sighs dramatically, and gently sits down on the bed. "What are we going to do with you,
Mara?" I give her a serious look. Look, mom! I'm Mr. Serious. Look at my frown. Frown. Clown. Clouds.
Sky. Bird. Tweety bird. Loony Toons. I'm loony, aren't I? I'm a Loony Tune!
~ 75 ~
I break into hysterical, pointless laughter.
--get."
I once said in the third grade, "Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're gonna
Had I known I was quoting Forest Gump, I probably wouldn't have made the statement. But as it
went, no one really noticed. And if they did? Well, then they didn't care.
Think about it. The quote is so phenomenally different and symbolically meaningful. Every person
is different, with an individual personality and taste. You can't predict what you're going to turn out like
because really, it's the luck of the draw.
When I stepped into the backseat of my Moms beat-up Hylander, I was certain. No doubt that my
bad luck streak was over. From my first birthday till now, unfortunate mishaps have caused me getting
injured. I don't know why, but as I've previously said, it's a hate-hate relationship.
I pulled the unlucky chocolate when everyone was choosing better ones. It wasn't fair, for sure,
but I thought it to be plenty alright when even though I didn't study for that great and mighty test, I still
aced it. Or when my cat ran away- only to fall asleep on the sidewalk a few blocks down because he ate
the bottle of sleeping pills I left out. Overall, my luck was fair enough for me.
So when I did get strapped into that rickety car, and when we began trundling along the road, I
did not even consider the fact that my luck hadn't turned better yet. I mean, I stub my toes all the time on
the van, and ram into desks and chairs and doors plenty often, as well.
When Mom doesn't stop at the red light, I don't notice. Because everything was fine now. My bad
omens were gone.
I never considered my mother in this equation.
Time slowed down a I looked out the window, noticing a bright red car five inches from ours. My
eyes expand to the size of baseballs, and my corneas dilute to nothing. A scream ripples it's way through
my throat, making contact with air the second that, ever so painfully, the red car slams into my side of the
Hylander.
I had no personal debate or dilemma this time.
Black was my only option.
Really, easy as that.
My only issue, though, was that I wasn't able to drag myself out of the dark.
Little did I know that I never could.
--So here we are. The end of my reality. And surprisingly, I'm not as worried as I'm fairly certain I
should be.
I suppose that yes, sadness and depression is for reality. But so is content, and satisfaction, and
joy, and bliss.
Even though I can't say I've expressed my world to you, and despite the fact that I have quite a
few regrets from my 4,742 day life, I most certainly can say that I am the most fulfilled I've ever been. And
if that doesn't mean anything, then I don't know what does.
As I'm here, and as I think, I conclude that, yes indeed- books with sad endings are overrated. No
longer is it just a statement. It is a fact. One that, honestly? You can't deny.
Now, you may think that this is unfair. That this is a sad ending.
Well, you may even be right.
'Cause sad endings are for reality.
And this was mine.
Holly
~ 76 ~
Street Rat
“Street rat!” I hear voice calling after me
as turn a corner of the fancy cobblestone street.
I’m clinging onto the most important object I own
right now, a jar of fever medicine that I had been
working on stealing all day.
My heart beats as I race through a maze
of carriages, elegantly dressed men, and carts
piled high with expensive looking goods. When
you’re a street boy, rule #1 is to get off the main
streets, and right now I can't quite make that
happen.
“Stop that boy!” Yells a deep voice behind
me. I jump over canes reaching to trip me and
hands reaching to catch me. Up ahead, I see an
alley, but I dash past it because rule #2 is to lose
the policeman before you get caught at a dead
end.
Eventually, the commotion from behind
settles and I find myself in a familiar part of the
city, my home. Here, it's cramped and dirty, but
if you know how to pickpocket and scout out the
best alley, you’ll survive.
Some people probably pity me. Others
are annoyed that I’m in their world. A couple
people might even want to kill me for stealing
their stuff.
That’s fine by me. I don’t care. That’s
my life, always running away from anything that
crosses my path. The Mayor calls me a coward.
The policeman calls me a criminal. Trouble is,
they’ve never experienced any of my life. They
wouldn't know.
Frank, my best friend and only
companion, is hunched over in the alley way, his
hat pointed at an odd angle. His shirt isn’t
pressed clean like it always is. He insists on
looking like a rich kid, says that it'll help us get
by with stealing. His hair is usually combed back
with that broken comb from Mr Finn’s barber, but
now it’s tousled like the waves in the harbour.
Today, I know something is wrong.
I run over. Frank’s slouched against the
wall, gasping for breath. Panting, I reach up and
touch his head. It’s burning.
I fumble with the medicine and pour two
spoonfuls into Frank’s mouth, just like the doctor
who I stole it from once told another customer.
Nothing happens. The world begins to spin, and
I feel empty inside.
I hear a grunt. I look over and see lifeless
gray eyes staring back at me. “Tell them it's in
the cobblestone..” He mumbles, and then his
eyes shut closed. I’m not sure what that means.
I want to melt into the wall, do something, but I
can’t. My knees are shaking and wobbling as I
press a cold rag to Frank’s forehead. There’s no
heartbeat.
“Frank!” I want to scream. “Frank!” But I
don’t. Screaming is the equivalent to just walking
up to a police officer and asking to be arrested.
The only thing I can do now is try not cry,
because I haven’t cried since my mum left me
on the streets, and that was five years ago.
This is different though. I didn’t know my
mum much back then. She’d come home late at
night from the pub, forcing me to lock my door
and shut her out. In the morning I’d already be
long gone before she’d have time to hit me for
not making enough money at the fruit stand.
After we ran out of rent, she kicked me out and
left. Just left. Frank’s never left me before. Frank
has been my only partner, my only company, the
only one who ever understood.
I press my knees up to my chest and
cry, cry for the first time in five years. I think of
the mayor and the policemen and the
shopkeepers that hate me, the ones that think
I’m no better a criminal, the ones who think it's
unfair that I lurk around everyone. Let me show
you what unfair is, I think. Let me show you.
--------------------------------------------------------------The walls are damp. I can tell because it
feels as though I'm sitting in a cloud, all this cold,
wet, silent air is just another trap. Occasionally,
the silence will break with a moan or a grunt or a
faint rustling of clanging chains from down the
hall. When it rains, the corners fill with ugly
water and reek of rotten scraps.
I don't mind the food, in fact, it's much
cleaner than what I've been putting in my mouth
for seven years. When Frank was alive, he'd
always try to make our meals taste decent. He’d
use the rusty knife from the bakers trash pile to
~ 77 ~
chop moldy carrots and onions and stir them into
a stew. I have never cared much. Food is food.
Water is water.
Today, instead of the regular morning
sounds of birds and others waking up in their
worm- infested cots, I hear boots. Not the soft
sole kind that little children run around in, but the
kind that Frank and I always heard when the
police officer would chase us. The boots ring out
as they hit the cobblestone floor. I shudder.
The boots pause. I hear a man’s deep
voice, and I realize that I haven't heard a voice
this loud for two years now. Every sound here is
either hushed, fearful, or forbidden. This man is
clearly not one of us.
“I am here on orders of the mayor.” I
hear several shudders and grimaces at the
sound of that name. One voice starts cursing.
He clears his throat again. “May I
repeat, I am Officer Durrant, Commander in
Chief of the Police Department. I am here to
question Prisoner 24609, also known as Charles
Harlow.”
I swallow. The tattoo on my right
shoulder reads five numbers. I’ve never learned
to count, let alone make out numbers, so the
lettering is foreign to me. The name is not.
Charles Harlow. I know my mother used to call
me Charles. Frank did too I suppose, as did
anyone who knew me. My mother never told me
my last name. She never mentioned my father
or relatives or anyone else who could of saved
us from that mess. She just wasted away and
left me. Left me here.
The man begins searching cells, I know
that they are labeled in the corner with peeling,
faded gray letters. He stops at mine.
“Charles Harlow?”
I don't know how to respond to such a
stupid comment. How does this man, this man
who has forced me into this, suppose that I
know my full name? The spoiled nobles. We
don't just steal and sleep in garbage cans for no
reason.
“Well, are you Charles Harlow?” The
man’s voice is angrier now.
“I, I don't know sir.”
“Stupid street rats.” He pulls shiny keys
out of his pocket and unlocks my cell, grumbling
the whole time. Yanking me up by the shoulders,
he drags me halfway across the dirty floor.
“S’pose you don't know your age then either.
What do you thieves know?
If only he knew.
---------------------------------------------------------------The man half drags, half pulls me up the
cold prison stairs. For the first time in two years,
I see a faint light that gets brighter and brighter.
When I was on the streets, I took the sun for
granted. I never thought that it would be taken
away from me.
The man sets me down in a hard
wooden chair. He sits down across from me. “Do
you know who this is?” He holds up a picture
and a wave of emotions rolls through my body. I
know those eyes and that smile. But I can't recall
exactly who it is.
“I-I-I’m not sure sir.” I look at him.
“We know that you know.” The man
cocks his head and smiles this evil, sickening
smile that makes me shudder.
I’m not sure how to reply, but as I stare
into those bright green eyes I realize something.
Frank. I haven't seen those eyes in two years
now, but I’m positive that they’re his. The smile
is toothy and the hair is combed back neatly, just
like he always wore it.
“You were spotted with this boy
numerous times throughout the past years.
When Officer Morris found you, this boy was
missing. We want to know where he is now.”
Officer Morris. So that's the name of that
rotten officer who’d chase Frank and I down as if
we’d stolen a diamond necklace instead of half a
loaf of bread. We hated him, but he loathed us.
The look on his face when he found me on the
corner of Main Street two years ago was a mix
of joy and relief. It was as if he thought we were
dangerous.
“You caught me two winters ago. Why
do you want to know where he is now?”
I can tell that this question surprises the
man. He shifts uneasily in his chair, and his dart
across the room. “We- we’re rounding up all the
orphans like you.”
“Like me?”
~ 78 ~
“Yes. Now, tell me, where is that boy?”
The officer leans over touches my necklace.
Frank gave it to me about a year after we met.
He said that his mom gave it to him and his
brother when he was younger, and after his
whole family never came back from voyage at
sea, he took the necklace and ran. “Now you’re
my second brother.” He had said. “Don't ever
take this off.”
“He’s, well, he’s dead.”
“Dead?!” You’d think that the man would
be happy about this, but instead, he seems
alarmed.
“Why do you care?” I scream. “He’s
dead! One more street rat of your tail that you
were too busy to bother giving a home to!” I can't
help it. I start to cry.
The man gets up out of his chair and
grabs my arm. He walks me down the stairs and
I’m once again facing my cold, stone walled
home.
I want to know why this man cares
about Frank. Why he cares about my necklace. I
want to know why I’ve been thrown into a
shadow for such a long time and now someone
cares about me. The officer fumbles with his
keys and I take the only opportunity I’ll have for
a long time. I duck through his long legs and do
the only thing I’ve ever been any good at. I run.
------------------------------------------------------------I run up the stairs and out the door. I
hear the man screaming for help behind me, but
I don't care. I can out run any of the officers in
the department.
I run past the bakery and the shoe
shiner, past the newspaper stand and that one
butcher who has always really hated me.
Another boy calls out, “Is that you Charles?!” I
grin. I’m never going back into that musty old
cell again.
Once I’ve ran far enough, I slow my
pace down to a walk. I need to figure out why
the department cares so much about Frank, and
so the first thing I do is take of my necklace and
look at it. The pendant is made of gold and
shaped like a circle. Inside the circle is a small,
four pointed star outlined in silver. I’d never
thought much of the design before, aside from
the fact that it looked very expensive. Now, the
charm looks like it means something.
“He went this way!” I hear a deep voice.
My heart races and I duck behind a stack of
crates. Through the cracks I see the officer
running down the fairly crowded street, showing
some of the peddlers a picture. A picture of me,
a normal plain old street boy who somehow
became a wanted fugitive. I don't understand.
The man gets nearer and nearer and I’m
sure that my deafening beating heart will give
me away.
“Have you seen this boy?” The officer is
so close now that I can see every aspect of his
ugly five o'clock shadow. “He looks about eleven
or twelve years old, and he’s short and skinny.”
“Yellow hat?” Asks an old man who is
pulling around a wagon piled high with milk jugs.
“Yeah I saw him.”
I get ready to run.
“He went that way, I think,” He says,
pointing in the opposite direction of where I’m
hiding. “Or at least some little boy did, I can't tell
them urchins apart.”
I breath a sigh of relief as I watch the
officer dash away. Once he’s out of sight, I crawl
out out from behind the crates. “Thank you sir!” I
say as I clutch the old man’s hand.
“I used to be a pickpocket myself, when
I was a small boy.” He smiles a kind smile, and
I’m drawn to a sparkle of gold on his neck. Could
it be? His golden necklace holds a circle shaped
pendant, half tucked into his shirt. “Go on now.
Like they always said, get off the known streets.”
I want to ask him why he has that
necklace. What it means, why I have it too. But
my mouth won't move and without realizing it,
I’m running away from the only answer I might
ever learn.
---------------------------------------------------------------The feeling of loneliness doesn't sink in
until I turn the corner onto a deserted street. I’ve
never really been on the streets alone before
now, I was found shortly after Frank died. I
hadn't really cared about anything at that time.
~ 79 ~
When the policeman found me, I didn't bother to
run. There was nothing left to care for.
Now though, I know that I need to solve
this mystery before I ever see a cell bars again. I
scan the ominous street, not really knowing what
to look for. I jump at every little sound in the
echoey alley, and every little rat that scurries by.
Maybe prison is some sort of luxury.
I walk down a couple of dirty alleyways
before the feeling of realization hits me. I’m
never going to find any sort of clue if I don't
know what to look for. The sign on the necklace
isn't going to just jump out and say “I’m related
to Frank and now I’m going to explain every
answer to every question that you’ve ever had.” I
need a starting point, but I’m a street rat, not a
detective. I only know what houses throw out the
best trash and what streets are full of fat, plump
pockets.
Maybe I’ll disguise myself as an old man
and sell trinkets on the streets from now on.
Maybe that nice old milk peddler will teach me
how to disappear from society once and forever,
I think. It begins to rain a cold, misty rain, and I
slump against a wooden door. Or maybe I’ll just
sit here and starve to death like so many of us
do in this town. I trace my finger along the
slippery wet wood on the door, not caring about
splinters or the flakes of green paint that stain
my hands. That's when I see it.
A four point star, enclosed in a circle,
exactly like the one on my necklace. It's carved
deep into wood, low enough to not be too
obvious, but high enough to be seen if you’re
looking for it. I jump up and pound on the door,
my heart thumping with excitement. A middle
aged lady with a stained apron on opens the
door. She stares at me with curiosity for a
second, and then excitement.
“Frank?” She asks, her eyes filling with
tears. I can barely answer before her face falls.
“Oh. You’re not Frank.” She starts to close the
door. “I’d thought that he’d finally come home.”
“No! No wait!”
She opens the door again.
“I was Frank’s friend!” I pull out the
necklace from under my shirt. “He gave me this
a long, long time ago. He said it was was his
brother Oscar’s, but his family never came
home. We were on the streets together for a
long time. He told me to never take it off, no
matter what.”
“You know Frank? Where is he?” The
woman’s tired eyes fill with hope again.
I gulp. “Frank’s, Frank’s dead.”
She stares at me.
“He was sick. I couldn't steal the
medicine fast enough. It was all my fault.” I stare
of into the distance. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” The woman wipes tears off her
face. “It's ours. Come in. You can stay for while.”
---------------------------------------------------------------The house is the nicest place I’ve ever
been in. I know there isn't much competition or
anything, considering the fact that the only
indoor spots I’ve ever lived in have been a run
down apartment building and a jail cell, but this
house seems like it's out of a storybook.
There’s a crackling fire place that fills
the whole room with warm, cozy light. Red
velvet arm chairs and a sofa surround it, on top
of a beautiful embroidered carpet. A complete
china tea set rests on a giant oak table that's big
enough to seat everyone I’ve ever met. I wonder
if this was Frank’s old house. If it was, he left
some pretty expensive stuff behind.
The woman takes me up a small
staircase and into a long hallway. “I’m Mrs.
Carter,” she says, leading me into a room with a
canopy bed and a washing basin. “Dinner will be
at five. My husband may want to meet you, and
discuss some things over. I’m sure you know
about the rebellions by now, yes?”
Rebellions? My heart seems to stop.
Once Frank told me about a group of rebels who
ganged up and defeated their king. He said that
the King had been taking whatever he had
wanted from the peasants, and they wouldn't
tolerate it anymore. They teamed up and fought
against the King and his army, and after many
years of bloodshed, they won. I had never
known that people like me could defeat the rich.
I had always just assumed that if you were poor,
there was no way to work your way out of it.
“Rebellions? I feel ashamed.
~ 80 ~
She looks at me differently now. “Frank
never told you?”
“No. He once told me a story about
peasants who fought against their king and won
though. But he never said anything about a
rebellion.”
“Oh dear.” Mrs. Carter walks toward the
door. “Please wash up for dinner.” She closes
the door behind me and my first instinct is to
scout out the room for valuables. I’m scared that
these people will send me back onto the streets,
it seems like it's a big deal that I don't know
about this rebellion.
I could probably sell the silk sheets lying
on the bed for some money if I had to, or the
glass vase on the nightstand, but instead of
hiding the items, I leave them right where they
are. Today, I’m going to get answers to my
questions before I ever touch the street again.
--------------------------------------------------------------The grandfather clock rings and a maid
comes to the door to let me know that it's time
for dinner. “There are supper clothes in the top
drawer of the dresser,” she says, “And don't be
late.”
I didn't know that rich people wore
different clothes to meals. Wow.
I hurry down the stairs and arrive at the
table just on time. Nicely dressed men and
women and couple of children are all beginning
to sit down, and a butler is quickly setting the
table with lots of plates. I’m not sure where to sit,
so I just stand around for a while. Finally, Mrs.
Carter waves for me to sit down next to her.
A man leads a prayer of some sort, and
I pretend to mumble it along with him like
everyone else. A cook comes and sets plates of
fish, figs, and greens in front of everyone. It's
more food than I’ve ever even imagined. The
fish is draped in a rich looking sauce, and I want
to shove it all into my mouth at once. Problem is,
I’m not sure how to eat it.
A girl across from me picks up the silver
knife and another silver object, so I follow her
and do the same. It's almost impossible to figure
out what she’s doing, so I glance over at Mrs.
Carter and try to follow her instead. It's just as
confusing. I give up, I’ve never really used
anything to eat with other that my hands, and
that doesn't seem very appropriate here. I grab
the spoon start scooping up the pieces of fish.
They taste rich and creamy, like nothing
I’ve ever ate before. I shove some more into my
mouth, before I realize that the whole table is
staring at me.
“What's your name?” Asks a man, his
eyes focused on the way I’m gripping my spoon.
“I don't remember inviting one of you in.”
My face turns red. “I, um…”
“He’s the boy I was telling you about,
William”, Mrs. Carter says.
“I would think he’d be civilized!”
“He’s been living with Frank on the
streets. He might know something.” Mrs Carter
places her hand on my back.
“How do we even know that he’s not
lying!” The man’s face is bright red now. “How
could you just let him into MY house!”
I pull out the golden necklace from
under my nice “supper shirt”.
He stares at it. “Where did you get
that!?”
“Frank gave it to me. He said that it was
his brother’s, and to never take it off. He never
told me why though.”
The people around the table shift
uneasily.
“Did he tell you where the map was?”
“Where the what?” Suddenly I feel
annoyed. Annoyed that I was Frank’s friend for
so long and he told me barely anything about
himself. I told him everything.
“The map. The map that leads to youknow-what. Only Frank and his family knew
where it was, and the rest of his family died
trying to spread the word about it. Now the
mayor and his people are trying to find it before
we do. You’re our only hope.”
“I don't where anything is! Frank never
told me anything about a map of a rebellion or
anything! All he told me was that his family died
in a shipwreck and he took to the streets before
the government could find out!”
The man sighs. “Did Frank say anything,
anything about a map? Anything before he
died?”
~ 81 ~
I think back to that horrible day, when
my life changed from a street rat with a partner
to an alone jailbird. “Yes.” I say, and the puzzle
pieces fit together. “He told me to tell them, I’m
not sure who them is though, but to tell them it's
in the cobblestone.”
The man’s face lights up. “That's the
missing piece then!” He and a couple other men
jump up and head down a flight of stairs.
I still have millions of questions. “Mrs
Carter,” I ask. “Where exactly does the map lead
to? Why does everyone want it?”
She smiles and looks around the table.
“What is your name?”
“Charles. I’m not sure what my last is,
but the policeman said it was Harlow.”
“You see Charles, we are working on a
rebellion. The mayor and his colleagues have
held power for too long. We want democracy.”
“What's that?” I ask.
“It's were the people vote. The people
hold power, even the poor.”
I like that idea.
“That map is the key to our group’s
success. It holds a map of all the secret passage
ways into the government plaza. We already
had several clues as to where it was kept, but
yours was the last one we needed.”
“Is that why the officer wanted to find
Frank then? Did he know that Frank knew
exactly where the map was? Why didn't Frank
tell you all sooner?”
“Most likely.” She says. “We don't think
that Frank understood the maps importance, he
was very young when left with its location. He
wouldn't know who to tell, so he just kept it a
secret.”
“Why did you tell me this?” I ask. “Why
did you trust me, because of the sign on the
necklace? What does it mean, why is it on your
door too?” I feel like I’m asking too many
questions, but I’m going to be kicked out
anyway, and you never can know too much
about something. Frank told me that.
“Yes, we all knew that you wouldn't have
just found that necklace anywhere. It’s our
symbol. It means freedom. But I want you to
stay.” She smiles, and I decide that I like Mrs
Carter. “I think you could help. We need a voice,
and you are a perfect one.”
---------------------------------------------------------I lace up my fancy leather boots. I miss
my old ones, the kind that didn't have so many
laces and complex knots. I guess the rich like to
spend their money on extra work, or maybe they
just love tying shoes. Either way, it doesn't make
much sense.
About a year has passed since the
rebels invited me into their home. Since then I
have learned to read, and even write a little.
There are boys here, but none are from the
streets like I am. We play games and wrestle
when there aren't lessons, and we argue about
which girl is the prettiest when we aren't
studying. I am even found of young maiden at
the house, her name is Frances and she has
long chocolate hair and the most beautiful green
eyes. I wish I could work up the courage to talk
to her.
The rebellion isn't over yet, but, thanks
to the map, we are becoming very close to
overthrowing the mayor. Some days consist of
long meetings, others with lots of visitors, and
some with nothing at all. It's all crazy when
you’re living in a headquarters for a secret
mission to dethrone your town’s mayor.
I stand up and grab my fur coat out of
the closet. For now, I’ll just keep studying hard
doing my part to keep the revolution going.
Maybe later, if we win, I’ll help set up nice
orphanages so that all street boys can have a
home like I do now, with kind, caring people
around them. I want to be able to make all kids
safe.
I button up the seemingly endless
buttons on my coat and place my new hat on my
head. I open up the door and place all other
doubts behind me. Today is about firing up the
protesters. I step onto the cobblestone street
and that sense of relaxation sets a smile on my
face. Today, I’ll change the world from where a
true street rat really belongs.
~ 82 ~
Madeleine
yourself, or at least get it on video and make it a vine.
How to Build a Backyard Rocket Ship
Then, make your rocket ship unique. Get out your
markers and go crazy! Draw a picture of Donald
You're on your phone playing Smashy Road,
Trump or Kanye or whoever, the possibilities are
sitting, spread out on your unmade, wrinkled up bed
endless! Don't forget the essentials such as vents,
when you look up and realize, you are bored out of
windows and a drawing of John Cena.
your mind. To come up with mischief you think; the
Grab a camera to record yourself, it won't work
eggs in the fridge- no too messy, maybe wrestling
without it, now sit in the rocket, If you crush it I
your sibling- you'll end up back in your room. Then
you look out the window into the dreaded outside and
POOF! It hits you like train. A spaceship, a backyard
suggest you not attempt to take flight. Rub the Chuy
Garcia Campaign sign for good luck. Think of the
vast never ending space there is to explore, like the
spaceship and all you need is some cardboard, tape,
amount of bad Adam Sandler movies there are out
markers and some imagination!
there. Now imaging you are there casually talking to
First, you have to be really bored to make your
Sandra Bullock who, yes, is still floating in space, as
spaceship take flight. Think about a world champion
if the movie wasn't long enough. This is the tricky
chess match or something, as long as it is boring it
part, you need to use your cinnamon scented candle
will work. Did you know boredom is a psychological
to set fire in the engine, but as soon as this happens
process found through the situation at matter where
you'll jolt back so you must sit still with your eyes
the human anatomy cannot use the energy it has
metabolized. Are you bored now, good. Harness your
boredom and convert it to energy to create your
spaceship. Use your boredom to hunt out the supplies
closed and visualize the directv satellite broken, like
always, and you will wish you had Xfinity. But that's
a new story for a new day.
you will need, find your moms make up and snatch
When you get tired of the strange world of space
her lipstick. Also, grab your siblings granola bar
simply open your eyes and remind yourself that you
wrapper, not so you can use it but to tell on him to
are the next Morgan Freeman. Stop the video camera
remove him as a distraction. Finally, grab your
and send me the video, it's definitely for scientific
mom's cinnamon scented candle so you can burn the
explanation not so I can have a good laugh. Don't tell
fuel in the engine.
Now to find the essentials. This all depends on the
supplies at hand, Caution, yesterday's pizza box won't
work as it's just nasty and, no offense, you might
anyone though, it's for your ego and NASA will fire
me. You can explore space and all you need is some
cardboard, markers and some Imagination.
crush it. As a side note chicks dig the refrigerator
Nate
boxes. Now take a walk down the street and find a
house with a million campaign posters, you know,
the ones with "Vote For Chuy Garcia" etc. Ok, now
stick the two sharp metal prongs into two opposite
sides of the box to hold them in place. It should look
like your box has wings. Make sure you don't poke
~ 83 ~
HELP
Journal #1:
"Die. 3 letters, 1 syllable, 1 word. 1 word that can change 1 million lives. The thought runs through
everyone's head one day or another. Will I be missed? Where will I be buried? Will people care?
What about my room, will it stay my room or be forgotten and turned into a fitness expanse? Die - to
cease to live; undergo the complete and permanent cessation of all vital functions; become dead. I
wonder what heaven looks like. Will it embrace me, or will the souls of the perished look upon me in
disgrace, and shake their heads with judgement, maybe even with rapport? Sometimes I lie in my overly
small bed, and look up at the ceiling, trying to think of the great future I could never live in. Jump. Perish.
Hang. Words that relinquish life float around like a conscious. Die is a command, a command used in the
most brutal ways. A command that people listen to, anyone from any age. Maybe I might listen to the
command, maybe it will make everything better. You see, death comes after the word "die", and death
has presented me with a way out, a way to escape my prison of humiliation. A way to start over. You
know that one friend that is always behind you no matter what? That amazing person doesn't exist for
me, and never has. Maybe she's taken, or isn't breathing. Or maybe there's no reason to live, no reason
that anyone wants you in their lives. Jump. Jump, holds the sensation of flying. I would like to experience
that as my last action. Everyone looking up at you with astonishment as you take the last breath of your
life. Yet, this does not change the actions of the others. They continue to feed on your fear and despair.
They're the monsters you hear stories about when you were a child, the monsters that will grab you
from underneath your bed. Perish. Disappear. The monster's goal. Whether they succeed or not, is the
main conflict.
Only the lonely and desperate souls need to feed on the young and living. The poor victim feels
like there is no hope, no sunlight through the storm. You get ripped and torn apart, until there is only a
bare body with scars covering it like a blanket. The scars are either emotional or physical. The
monsters are either mental or physical. These may be my last words, but I want the world to know what
society is today, what innocent people have to go through today. What this leads to... Young and
developing minds like mine have figured out ways to solve this torturing path. To depart, be no more,
take one's last breath. The Willis tower is a 108-story, 1,451-foot skyscraper in Chicago. My home town,
where the destruction of my life began. It's a very beautiful building, and I am always mesmerized when
passing it. This building embraces all the positive memories, the memories that I want to hold on to, the
memories that I want to remember when I die.”
~ 84 ~
Journal
#2:
"I am up here today to show what happens when the monsters succeed, to show how much scars
a person can withhold. It's a breathtaking site, the city of Chicago. I shall leave, but apparently it's all for
the best. As I write these words, I look down towards my fate. I must finish now, someone is coming up
the stairs. Goodbye my life of beastly days, goodbye...''
I slowly clasp the precious journal, and shut the book filled with my salty tears. It's
already been two weeks, two weeks since the love of my life perished from this world. I get out of my
car and linger at her coffin. I leave her resting body, and roam towards the flower garden. I re-open the
oh so precious diary, and retrieve my pen. The pages are still crisp, and wet from my tears. I ever so
carefully write...
Journal #3:
"My love of my life has faded away from the world, but never from my heart. I cannot see how I
can live on, I have to see her majestic face again. The Willis Tower was where I met her, where some
of my most precious moments lie. It's cold up here, but I will soon see the light. She is my light, my
sunlight through the storm. I shall see you soon, my dear..."
Jasmine
Alexa
~ 85 ~
Matthew
Caoimhe
~ 86 ~
My First Club Soccer Goal
My first club soccer tournament was extremely memorable. I was nine years old and we were
playing in the Puma Cup in Rockford, Illinois in the spring. The spring in the Midwest is a mystery of
different weather options. The first game was miserable! I was put in goal and it was 8 AM in the morning
to start. As soon as I put on my yellow, sweaty jersey and walked into the goalie box, it started to rain.
The rain had turned into sleet. It was the coldest rain and game I've ever experienced. Within minutes the
snow came. I am not making this up! Because our team was so good I never touched the ball in the first
half of the game. Our entire team was frozen after that game. I didn't have a single piece of clothing on
my body that was dry. Luckily my mom brought extra clothes, towels and blankets. Believe it or not that's
not my most memorable moment of the tournament.
Fast-forward two wins later and we were in the finals! Our first tournament as a team we had
worked so hard. All of our hard work can't go to waste. It was all or nothing. I was pretty nervous
because well, we were in the finals for the first time. I was also very excited. Maybe we can win the first
tournament we played in. Bring it on!
Our coach hadn't told us the line-up yet and I was starting to get nervous about if I was starting or
not. I really wanted to start in the final of the tournament game. After the team did our pre-game warmups, placed our bags down on our side of the field, warmed up a bit on the field after the previous game
had ended, and checked in with the official, we heard the referees whistle. The game was about to start.
Coach gave the starting line-up and I am in defense. I am ecstatic! I am starting the game off and I know I
am one of the best defenders on my team. Kick off - the game was on.
About ten minutes into the game, my coach wants to move me to midfield, he said that the
offense needs some help. I am proud that my coach trusts me to help the offense make plays and score
some goals. Maybe I will finally score a goal? Either score or assist, I wanted to prove my coach right
that I can play any position he needs.
We were only able to get the ball close to the goal. The offense was making good passes through the
defense but, the goalie was to good. No one can score on this goalkeeper, not our forwards, not our
midfielders, not anyone! The goalie was saving balls left, right, and center. She was jumping and bumping
balls to block goals in the corner. Then we got a corner kick. We were thinking that like all of our corners, it
would go too deep. As we set up for the corner, because I was playing left midfielder on a right side corner
kick, I assumed the "garbage" position. "Garbage" is the person that serves the ball back in if it goes too far
out of the scoring area. I am nervous because corners never seem to work for my team.
~ 87 ~
The ball is being served in. It is arching down. The ball is coming near me. I need to serve it
back in. As the ball is coming closer, I wonder "should I serve it back in or should I take a shot?" As I was
thinking about what I was going to do, this round, hard, and leathery ball seemed like it was running at
me at a million miles an hour.
The ball has come down, I was too late and not in position to take a shot. As I scrambled to
serve it back towards the scoring area, the ball hits off my knee. The ball wobbled and curved, then
rolled into the corner of the goal. I cannot believe the ball went in! The referee blows his whistle and
points towards the center field. It was official not only had I scored for our team, but I also scored my first
goal in club soccer.
My team ran to me to give celebratory high-fives and hugs. This was my first goal in the travel
soccer season and I was only nine. What a great way to start my new career as a travel soccer player.
My team won the game and along with my first goal we got our first tournament win and a large trophy.
With the weather madness and my first goal as a travel soccer player, this is one experience I will never
forget.
Elisabeth
“Don’t give up”
Don’t let today’s troubles
Bring you down,
Or allow you to question
Your ability
Don’t let life’s little obstacles
Keep you from trying,
Or become the reason
For defeat
Don’t let your fears
Keep you from dreaming,
Or from chasing
Your dream
Don’t give up for any reason
Believe in yourself,
And in yourself
You’ll find strength
Kaleb
~ 88 ~
The Last Time
I Saw Light
“Umbrellas Aren't Meant For Sunny Days”
It was almost like rubbing on lotion: I could basically see flowers blooming when I shut my weary
eyes, for they felt like molasses
The efflorescent colors of yellows and oranges in a meadow of
green that changed dramatically each millisecond
The kind of yellow that was like the warm sun on porcelain freckled skin
Or the kind of orange that was exciting without being loud or angry I could imagine the roots of a
cherry tree sinking deep into the ground after each storm near a cottage in a cozy rural town
Though after each moment of intense excitement, there came sunny moments where I then admired
the view of rain
The foggy orbs of liquid were timeless, shapeless, and everlasting
Flowers became more stunning and almost fragrant
Like a seaside bath or eating cherry Popsicles at noon on the
neighbors porch
Or even of Earth after rain and frigid morning dew on the pansies
Things became too sickishly sweet when I felt a gentle breeze on my
porcelain skin
My freckles became chilled
One by one freezing over like sprinkles on vanilla ice cream
Though everlasting love sounds mellifluous
Dreams don't last forever, especially opulent ones like these
Mia
Kylie
~89~
“Seeing Double”
Your eyes are an arresting sapphire: deep, intense, and a velvetycobalt
Your eyes are the color of a storm cloud before lightning hit, your eyelashes there to catch the
raindrops as they fell, one by one letting go of who they most loved
The sound of blues music and pouring drinks
One A.M. poetry writing under speckled, lapis stars
Your eyes are unending seas of gunmetal
Sunshine through a glass of Kool-Aid
Your eyes are the color of a broken glass with shards of opaque goblet and ice scattered amongst
the floor
Blue is a tactile color, you are able to touch it and feel how it
changes
Your eyes have changed me, yet it's for you to decide if that's for
the better or the worse
The Life of a Suicidal Female Adult
As she sat the crumpled piece of lined paper down on her wooden vanity, she picked up her
Cabernet and sipped her last memoir of the love she had left. Her feet started to develop a
bittersweet tingling sensation, definitely the sweat of her anxiety about loss. Her feet started to
vibrate more prominently as she sprinted up the winding staircase and into her old bathroom. She
ruggedly ran her dated, cracked, hands over her lips while her tears covered the rest
of her imperfections. The smooth spot on her cheek where she used to receive kisses became
jagged as she ran her dulled pocket knife over the memories, forever scarring her existence. Not
stopping an instant to consider what she was doing, she reached for the last picture taken of her and
the bloody knife blade forever ruined yet another part of her beautiful life. Yet she never stopped to
consider that maybe it wasn't the knife blade that ruined her past and future, however it was her own
perception who destroyed her optimistic future.
The last time I saw light
Scars within life, scars without life
When things became redolent
Mia
~90~
~ - 89 - ~
~~
The Last Chapter to a Story I’ll Never Write
I never understood why I had loved art. Why do humans toy with things that they know
won't be there one day when they are wrapped within the unforgivable arms of regret? It
had become to my knowledge this when an innocent person with warm skin and a soothing
smile knocked at my door. I
guess I should've listened, they always warn you of strangers. We wrote writings on the walls and
told each other of a paradise we would have even when days became numbered. I became the
canvas that he painted on, he made me vibrant, covered me with shades of magnificent green and
glowing turquoise, he painted the paradise that he saw me in. Love slipped out of my rosy red lips
and wrapped around his mind like a snake.
But what is love really? I didn't know this until I had felt the first drop of gray paint in the
center of my chest. I did not fear it; for my world was covered with drops of a dusty gray that
faded away as the daily rain poured down
from eyes, maybe that's what made them so piercingly green. The daily rains they drew. He tried to
rain his sunlight upon my fields of green. Flowers finally
bloomed in the depths of my eyes, in enchanting shades of fluorescent blue and yellow. These flowers
symbolized my zenith. When I was young, they said that every flower needs a drop of rain to bloom.
Every night I cried, and with this I learned, too much rain can also drown and kill the flowers.
He came home one night, and uttered an unspeakable broken promise that his heart drew
from his lips. The beaches turned to dusty sand, the sunsets turned to storm clouds painted
across the distant horizon. His evanescence did not comfort my breaking soul, The paradise we
had spoken of so gratefully was no longer in his dream. This, I took with great pain.
. Why do humans promise things before they don't know what they can keep? Because humans
believe it will always be a certain way. It is not until you see someone under stress, when you
see someone shriveled up on the bathroom floor, swollen cheeks and bloodshot eyes, consuming
themselves; and still find beauty that you love someone. So we promise, we assure, unknowing of
the depths of separation to come.
Rainy, silvery, gray clouds of paint rained upon me. Soon you could see storm clouds in my eyes.
Depression, pounded onto my heart, demanding to be heard, demanding to be heard and to shoot
up my bloodstream like a fever. I still dream and so does he. I dream that one day my canvas
will hold the beautiful image of my hand in his, walking away in the paradise we talked of
once. I hope that he plasters the glass pieces of my heart back into a whole without cutting
himself on the edges. I do hope that one day I will look in his eyes and see
the luminescent night sky plastered with gleaming stars again rather than
pitch black. I hope that he continues to paint. I now know why I love art.
~ 91 ~
Julia
~ 92 ~
Isabel
Pizza Joint or Pencil?
At my old school, nobody listened. We were always in trouble for one thing or another. After a
while,my teacher would get so annoyed, she would just leave the classroom. She said she had to go to
the bathroom, or pick something up from the office. My whole class knew it was a lie, though. Sure,
we believed her at first. But nobody spends 45 minutes in a public bathroom.
Anyways, it was a hot day in the spring. Like, unbelievably hot, like an oven. And, surprise! Our
air conditioning was broken. Again. We were all sweating, bored, tired. The teacher must have left he
classroom over three times that day. Most of us had resorted to cutting up our homework and using
it to make paper fans. Others were just throwing things at each other, like pencil tips and crumpled
paper. Now, I was one of those kids who never listened. Never. So I decided, instead of sit around
in misery, why not do something entertaining? I unzipped my pencil case, dumped out all my
pencils. I shuffled them around until I found the smallest one. Then, I began sharpening. Sharpening
away until there was barely any pencil left. The number two pencil couldn't have been smaller than
an inch now. I even named it Little Joey, after a pizza joint down the street from my house. Thinking
to myself, I wondered what else I could do with the pencil. Then it hit me.
The front of the room was pretty empty, I remember it very well. An old chalkboard and a small
desk sat in the front. Sitting on that desk, was an electric sharpener. Now, I was always using my
broken, little, plastic, handheld sharpener. I was too lazy to stand up and walk to the other side of
the room. Now, it's not like it was a holiday, I wasn't going to get up then, either. So I wadded up a
ball of paper and threw it at the boy sitting in front of me. He spun around and glared at me.
"What do you want?" He snapped.
I held up the small pizza chain pencil
"Go put this in the sharpener." I answered.
He glared at me for a moment, then took the pencil and stood up. He walked up to the
sharpener,
made sure it was on, and dropped it in. Silence. I was bummed, but just for a moment. The dead
silence in the classroom was interrupted by a loud, mechanical whirring. We all though it was funny,
the whole class started laughing. It was all fun and games until I saw my friend, Madeline stuck her
head out the door. She ran back into the classroom and yelled,
"She's coming!"
We all knew what that meant. Everyone backed up away from the sharpener, running into their
desks. They all sat down, like good little soldiers. Until we all realized the sharpener was still going.
The boy who I dropped the pencil into the machine stared at me in horror. Now, this sharpener
hadn't been unplugged in years. The plug was gross, and rusty. Most likely jammed into the wall,
too. But I wasn't going to get caught. I jumped out of my seat and ran over to the sharpener. I
yanked on the chord, it didn't budge. Without thinking twice, I dropped to the ground and put my
feet up against the wall and pulled as hard as I could. The teachers footsteps were getting louder, I
could her her coming. With perfect aim, the plug snapped back and hit me in the nose. Blood
started gushing out. Deciding I didn't have time to worry about a little blood, I crawled back to my
seat, wiped my nose with last nights homework, and just in time. My horrible teacher walked in.
Sighing in relief, I leaned back in my chair. I wasn't caught.
~ 93 ~
Ten minutes passed, maybe fifteen. Everything was going fine. Except for the blood that was still
pouring out of my nose. But hey, so far, I wasn't in trouble. Then I heard a small snap, and my
cousin, Isabelle, held up her pencil. With a mangled tip. She gave me the death stare.
"What did I do?" I whispered harshly.
"I don't have a sharpener."
"So?"
"I have to use the electric one."
I glared back at her for a moment, then threw my cheap, broken, plastic one at her. She caught
it.
Only moments later, her quiet, yet harsh voice, whispered, "It's broken."
Holding a bloodstained tissue against my nose, I slammed my free hand down on the table.
"Then find a new pencil!" I snapped, impatiently. Patience has never been one of my strong
suits.
My teacher looked up from her desk to see what was going on. I removed my tissue from my
nose, for the moment. I didn't want to raise any eyebrows. She eventually looked away. So, my cousin,
the ultimate Sherlock Holmes, got up. She went straight to the teacher’s desk.
"Can I have a new pencil?" I heard her ask.
"Now, that one is fine, just go sharpen it." My teacher said in an impatient voice, gesturing to
the mangled pencil.
"The sharpener isn't plugged in." My cousin quickly answered.
So, my teacher got up. And she plugged it in. She just had to plug it in. There was silence,
followed by a loud crack, and mechanical whirring.
My teacher sighed, and looked up.
"Now, who did this? Let me guess, Karlie?" She said sarcastically.
I jumped up, forgetting to remove the bloody tissue from my nose. Now, less blood stained,
more soaked in blood. I pointed at the boy who dropped the pencil into the broken machine, and he
pointed back at me.
"She made me!" He screeched. I crumpled up another piece of paper and there it at him in
response.
"Karlie! I'm too tired to deal with this! I'm letting you off with a warning. Don't misbehave again,
just go to the nurse." My teacher yelled, angrily.
"Thanks!" I answered cheerily, glad it was only a warning.
And that was the time I deviously planned to break the sharpener in 4th grade, using a small
pencil named after a pizza place.
Karlie
~ 94 ~
The Bad Luck Story: Book 1; Poison Ivy
Prologue:
I can't believe it. I can't go to school. No, I'm not going to school. I have to call Elli. I can't believe
this, I thought. What would Max think? Ugh, but what about the movie in Social Studies? "Mom!! I can't go
to school!" I screamed as I looked at my horrid face, legs,and arms. "Oh yes you ca-," she burst into my
room, "Oh my gosh what happened to you?" "I-I don't know..." I said as I looked down and say little red
bumps covered the backs of my legs, my hands, my face and the back of my neck itched so bad it
burned. "Oh honey, what happened yesterday? Where did you go?" "Yesterday Elli, Sam and I were
playing soccer and the ball went into a bush and I tried to get it and-," I drifted off, I knew exactly what it
was "Poison Ivy," we finished together.
{part One }
Chapter One:
"Over here!" I yelled at Elli. "Here it comes!" She yelled as she passed the black and white checkered
soccer ball in my direction. "Bridget! Watch out!" Out of nowhere, Sam came up and stole the ball from
behind me.
I started to laugh as I fell back, "You alright?" Sam asked, laughing a little as Elli tried to block the
goal but he shot it in anyway. I stood
up and ran over to them. "Where's your brother?" I asked him inconspicuously. I looked over at Elli who
was staring right back at me trying to hide her smile. She was the only one who knew that I had a crush
on Sam's older brother (by like two minutes) Max. "He's at football practice, why do you care?" Sam said
angrily while trying to kick the ball towards Ellie. "Uh- I'm going to go get that," I said, looking at Elli with a
look that said, "help me!"
I ran towards the bush while Elli started to change the subject to the movie in Social Studies
class. I bent down to try and find the ball inside the bush. However I couldn't grab it because it was
covered by all sorts of different kinds of leaves, twigs and vines. So I had to crawl down onto my stomach
to grab it.
I can't lose this. I thought, if Carmen finds out, I'm dead meat. Carmen is my older sister, she's in
college. The same college her boyfriend Josh goes to, which is just too perfect because they have been
dating for 3 years. I don't blame him. Any guy would be lucky enough to date Carmen. She has perfect
sunshine colored hair that flows all the way to the middle of her back. While mine is stick straight and poo
brown. Her hair has just the lightest touch of a wave, and her eyes are green with a little bit of gold flakes
in them. And thats not all, she has an average height and her nose is perfect, and she's a soccer
CHAMPION. Her room is still littered with numerous trophies for soccer. Despite the fact that I'm so
~ 95 ~
jealous of her and that she was born 6 years earlier than me, we actually get along pretty well. But still,
she'd kill me if I lost her soccer ball.
Once I finally grabbed the ball, I ran over to Sam and Elli who were now talking about something
in the Math homework last night. That's another thing, Sam and Elli are both in advanced Math! I'm only in
standard and still have difficulty keeping my grade above a B-minus.
"One more game?" Sam asked smiling at Elli and I. We both looked at each other and kicked the ball out
from under Sam's foot.
Chapter Two:
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! Went my alarm. I rolled over and smacked the snooze button on my phone. When it
woke me up five minutes later I picked my phone up and turned off the alarm. I scrolled through my
Instagram feed and came across a picture of Max. I sighed and smiled and rolled out of bed.
I can't believe it. I can't go to school. No, I'm not going to school. I have to call Elli. I can't believe
this, I thought. What would Max think? Ugh, but what about the movie in Social Studies? "Mom!! I can't go
to school!" I screamed as I looked at my horrid face, legs,and arms. "Oh yes you ca-," she burst into my
room, "Oh my gosh what happened to you?" "I-I don't know..." I said as I looked down and say little red
bumps covered the backs of my legs, my hands, my face and the back of my neck itched so bad it
burned. "Oh honey, what happened yesterday? Where did you go?" "Yesterday Elli, Sam and I were
playing soccer and the ball went into a bush and I tried to get it and-," I drifted off, I knew exactly what it
was "Poison Ivy," we finished together.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mom, I can't believe you're making me do this." I said to my mother in the car on my way to
school. Turns out I am late because earlier, mom helped me pick out a cute outfit that wouldn't show my
arms and legs. I was wearing a sweater that said 'The Who' on it and a pair of black leggings and my
favorite pair of boots. And as for my hands, well I just had to hope no one would notice.
Mom had also put in a whole bottle of Calamine lotion as well as a water bottle full of lemon iced
tea, my favorite, in my backpack. "You'll be fine." Mom said. I didn't think so, the only reason mom was
making me even go was because of the Math test that I had studied so hard for.
"I love you! Call me if anything worse happens!" She yelled from the driver side window. "Ok, love
you too!" I yelled back.
Chapter three:
~ 96 ~
"Bridget where were you?" Elli nearly screamed at me from across the table. " I quickly pulled her aside
and told her the story. "Oh," she said taking a step away from me. "Don't worry it's not contagious." I
laughed at her. "Hey, I'm not taking any chances, I'm not getting poison ivy right before my staring role."
I swear Elli has let this thing get to her head. She tried out for the role of The Queen of Hearts in
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. She literally did everything in her power to get the role and keep the
role. "Ok fine whatever but you can't tell anyone about this. Not even Sam, because if he finds out youknow-who will find out, and that cannot happen. Understood?" She nodded and zipped her lips. "Wait, but
what are you going to do about Drama?"
Oh no. This isn't happening. I groaned. I had completely forgotten about the drama presentation
we where doing for class. I was Glinda the good witch in our fractured fairytale play and we had to wear
our costumes. But wait, there was one more thing I was forgetting. "Hey Bridget!" Max said walking over
to where the football players sat. I waved my hand in his direction. Max, I thought Max is in my drama
class!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --
I was in the bathroom for Drama class, and boy was I mad. I had my costume on and the red
bumps looked even worse. I had to wash off the Calamine lotion because with it on, it looked like I was a
big pink tongue with a big pink poofy dress on. Everything itched, and there was nothing I could do about
it. Let's hope no one notices, I thought. As I walked into the classroom with the big pink poofy dress on
everyone looked. Some people gasped, and stared others just were completely mind boggled.
I have to admit, the dress is amazing. There were skinny straps holding up the dress and the top
hugged my body perfectly. The top was made out of a pink silk material with a small hint of silver glitter.
At the waist, the dress flared out to form a ball gown type dress and sank all the way down and dragged
the tiniest bit on the floor. The skirt was made out of pink tulle and had tiny silver stars all over it. The
shoes that I had picked out of Mr. Kenton's costume closet were silver heels with straps all the way up to
my ankles.
I then realized what everyone was actually staring at, my arms. I carried my clothes and stuff over
to my desk while everyone started laughing. My face turned as red as the bumps that littered my arms. I
turned and looked over at Max's group, which were doubled over laughing. I ran straight to the bathroom
and Elli followed me. "Bridget!" she said running after me and following me into the bathroom. "Bridget!"
She said, panting. "Max was laughing at me! He saw and now he totally is going to ignore me for the rest
of my life!" I cried looking at my best friends face. "Hey Bridge look, if he is going to judge you on the fact
that you got poison ivy, then he is not worth your time! Ok? If the fact that he is judging you based on one
thing that happens to all of us doesn't tell you that he is an ultra jerk, I don't know what will." She said
while hugging me. "You're right. Thank you so much."
~ 97 ~
We walked right back into the drama room and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Sam was
straight up yelling at Max! "You are unbelievable dude. Why would you laugh at something like that?
What if she was super embarrassed? How would you feel?" He said all up in Max's face. Alright, so he
wasn't yelling at Max, he was just talking very sternly and since we were in the back of the room, Mr.
Kenton didn't notice a thing! Sam then walked right up to me, "Are you okay? I'm really sorry about my
brother, he is a total jerk." He said while searching my face for any signs of sadness. "Yah I'm fine, thanks
for that." We all smiled at each other and started to practice our skit, Poison Ivy and all.
Kylee
Reading is stupid
And don’ ever try to convince me that
A novel can change a life
Whoever said this is wrong
Books are a waste of time
And how can people believe that
Literature is useful
Only losers read
And I never want people to presume that
You can live a million other lives through books
Because you can’t
And don’t deny it
Reading uncovers a world of imagination
Said no one ever because
Books are so insipid and boring
It is astonishing how
People find joy in characters like Harry and Huckleberry
These characters are fake
And how can people think that
The characters in these books are alive in the reader’s thoughts
Books are futile and useless
Because of this, I will never say
Books have taught me anything.
(Now read from the bottom line to the top)
Holly
~ 98 ~
My Beloved Gia Gia ( yay- ya)
I woke up all sweaty and shaking from a horrifying nightmare in the middle of the night. What I didn't
know is that same nightmare was about to come true.
My whole family knew my grandmother - Gia Gia( aka grandmother in Greek ) was very sick. I've
always loved my grandmother. She was special, loving, and beautiful.
We were driving to Canberra on a Saturday morning. It was a delicate morning. Nothing that I would
have expected, but we pulled over. My mother was shaking while talking to my flummoxed dad on the
phone. My mother’s face looked awfully terrified. I listened to the muffled voices on the phone.
"Something has happened, and you need to get home NOW. No time to talk." I heard my dad shout into
the phone.
"What's wrong?" I anxiously asked my mother.
"We need to get home FAST," She answered shakily. She turned around and we went back home.
We came home and my siblings sat down on the couch wondering what happened. My mother ran
upstairs and I didn't hear anything for a while. In that period of time I just did what any kid would do. I
watched Television, played with my siblings, fed the dog, and read.
Suddenly I heard the strangest noise I have ever heard. It sounded like the word "Help!" and "No!" at
the same time!
What was that? Oh probably nothing, I thought.
Then it struck. Something I had NO idea about. The idea that I thought was NEVER going to happen.
"KIDS! Come here!" My dad shouted from upstairs. We all ran upstairs wondering if we were in trouble
or not. We all ran into my parents’ room finding my parents in tears.
I was the first to speak. "Wha- What happened?!" I studded. My face was frozen and still .
"Remember how we were going to Canberra last night? Friday night? Well..." My mother’s calm voice
trailed off to the still house.
"Kids..... Gia- gia died." My dad studded. I couldn't feel my toes. I fell to my knees and sobbed into my
hands. I felt numb, my mind went blank and still. I've never imagined this to happen, my nightmare had
come true. "You guys were going to visit her this morning, but you had to come back, we needed you to
know." My dad continued.
I crawled over the bed into the corner of my parent’s Australian room. I pulled my knees to my chest
and started praying and thinking how happy Gia Gia must be that now she is in heaven. I started humming
the song she sang to me over the phone when I couldn't sleep, the game we played when we saw her, and
how she would always have us finish our meals. Oh how I loved Gia Gia.
~ 99 ~
"Dad, I'm terrified," I shivered. I crawled to my father and put my arms around my family. And then at
that moment I knew that I should be thankful of what I have and shouldn't not move on because of one
death. Sure, we can feel deep grief, but in the end we would get through it. I know it.
Xanthe
Jasmine
~ 100 ~