2022-2023 1st Period YGA Stories

 

“The Game of the Year”

By Zach Gilbert

Everything depended on this hit. He wasn’t in the position where the bases were loaded, there were two outs, and he had to hit a homerun or else his team would lose. No, his team was down 9–1, nobody on any bases. Instead, he had to get a homerun for one reason; he hadn’t hit the ball that entire Summer. If he didn’t get a homerun, then he couldn’t allow himself to play anymore baseball. That’s why it mattered. He needed to prove to himself that he was worthy to play in the Empire, GA Backyard League.

He didn’t know what angle he should take for his turn at bat, but Bill, his best and oldest friend, knew.

“So Dug, you ain’t good enough to hit the ball,” Bill said, working the words around the giant glob of Big League Chew tucked in his cheek.

“I guess not,” Dug replied.

“In that case, you only got one chance. Close your eyes and swing,” Bill told him.

“How’s that gonna’...”

“Shut it. Just do what I said to do, and you’ll be good. You can even use my lucky bat”

He stood at the plate, knees locked, a too big helmet, and Bill’s lucky bat locked in his vise-like grip. The pitcher, a kid named Chuck, cracked his knuckles then expertly tossed the ball. Dug watched the ball carefully as it flew through the air in a slow and gentle arc until it was right there, just above home plate. WOOSH! Dug swung the bat with all the strength he could muster. He instantly knew it was a homerun hit, so he looked to the sky to find the ball. But, it wasn’t there. He’d hit so hard that it was already lost above the treeline. Dug had at last proved himself worthy to continue playing, and, more than that, he…

“What the heck ya’ doin’ Dug! That ain’t what I told ya’ to do!” Bill hollered from the old wooden bench.

Dug turned to Bill to spit back a reply, but he quickly shut his mouth before it had even been opened. The ball was rolling toward the bench. Dug had completely whiffed the ball. Bill tossed the ball then went back and sat down on the edge of the bench, ready to see what would happen next. Dug straightened his helmet as best he could. Readjusting his grip on the bat, he prepared for his second chance at redemption.

“Come on Dug! As long as you don’t show him fear, he can’t hurt you,” someone jeered at him.

Dug locked eyes with Chuck, doing his best to burn a hole through his head. Chuck glowered back at him, his icy glare seeming to cause a static build up between the two. Dug watched Chuck meticulously, searching for any hints on the pitch. Chuck reached down and got a fistfull of soil and smothered the ball with it before hacking up a glob a spit and adding it to the mix. It was guaranteed that the pitch would be Chuck’s Dirt Dobber Special, the best fastball Dug, and everybody else present, had ever seen in person. Crossing himself, Dug timidly prepared for the pitch.

A bead of sweat was forming on his brow, threatening to drip into his eye. He blew at it trying to keep it at bay, but ended up only making it worse. Finally the wind blew it into his eye, forcing Dug to screw his eyes shut, in a failed attempt to keep it out. WOOOSH! Chuck flung the ball while Dug’s eyes were closed. In a Hail Mary attempt to save himself, Dug blindly swung the bat, and, CRACK! the bat and ball collided, sending judders up Dug’s arms. There was an audible gasp the moment the bat struck its mark, followed by an ear splitting silence.

Dug dared to open his eyes. His left eye still stung a little from the sweat, but he kept his eye open, pushing through the slight irritation, to see a wispy cloud of dirt knocked off the ball at the impact. Through it, Dug could see Chuck, his chin resting on his chest. Realization forced Dug to stand still--becoming another immobilized statue--until a cool breeze slowly blew across the field, disturbing the loose dirt. He stumbled through the bases like an unnoticed intruder in a rundown amusement park. One by one, the others began to come back from their hypnotic trance. As attention started turning back to Dug, he gradually began to speed up to a sprint across the bases, kicking up clouds of sediment in a trail behind him.

Dug flew over home plate, hurling his helmet from his head without any hesitation. His team rushed up to him, clapping him on the back; they no longer saw him as some crummy second-rate player that could do nothing but catch the ball in the outfield. Dug grinned as he was congratulated, knowing that he finally earned his place on the team. He shook the sweat from his head, and he strutted forward with a newfound swagger to his stride. Suddenly, Bill stepped out in front of him. Bill’s hand was held up in front of him, so Dug mimicked the posture.

“Welcome to the team Dug,” Bill said, and they dapped each other up, officially sealing Dug’s place on the team.

“Confession”

By Seth Arnold

Fourteen, I’ll say not a lot ,but more than most. So first of all this is a bit more than your average confession. It’s more of a tale, no more of a reason for what I’ve become. Yes, even I can see the error of my ways. Now you probably found this, in a falling old shack surrounded by ferns, trees, and leaf litter. Now here’s the warning, the cost of reading my “reasons” You’ll have to find me, corpse or otherwise.

Now for the confession ,so fourteen kills, ten shots and four strangles. Each nothing more than an impulse, it took but seconds. If you want the list, the names that is. Then you have to play my simple game. Easy, truly easy to find. You must find a pencil. Now not any pencil but the pencil.

The reason, maybe just some underlying trauma or maybe just a craving. So It was sometime in November, the day a gray ,cold one. My best friends and I were playing outside enjoying the break from the muggy heat, that seemed but the way of the world. I at thirteen , such a lucky number, of course I never believed in luck. Oh how that day lingered for us as we fought each other with sticks until the blows broke our wooden blades. Then came the wind and with it the man who changed it all. He rode an old car that sparkled in the dying sunlight. He rode our way and we all looked at the car. The three of us stood side by side waiting for the rush of air to pass over us. But the car slowed to a stop in front of us.

 He sat there in his gleaming car. Then he asked, "do y'all want a ride."

We were taught not to trust strangers, but offers like this don't come every day. Ben said "can I go ask my parents if it's alright"

"Sorry, little man, I got to go ,but I can bring you back after a bit". He began to roll up the window.

 "Wait, we'll come," Oliver said, running towards the car. Oliver was the ringleader of our ragtag team. We follow without a thought, if Oliver was doing it must be fine. As soon as I got in the car, I could tell something was off. There was a smell that penetrated my nose and almost made me throw up. But the others seem at ease ,or at least pretending to be. 

The scent that lingered in the car at the time seemed disturbing and unrecognizable. But now I can easily remember the smell and what it was. Alcohol ,the odor still makes my stomach uneasy.

Now after driving for a while Ben decides to ask “where are we going,” after a moment of silence, he repeats again and again in silence. A few more minutes passed before we entered a forest of pines spread out as far as I could see. The car goes down some dusty road and hits some bumps.

Then he answers “here where we're going,” as he parks the car. Alone in the middle of the woods with some stranger, with the sun setting. He pulls out his phone and dials a number after being received. He begins “ I have three kids, I want four hundred thousand for each.” He looks at us expecting something. 

All he receives is blank stares before “Wait were worth four hundred thousand” Ben said in a desperate attempt to relieve the stress.  

The man looks back before spouting off a location into the phone. After he looks at us and says” That’s if they pay, otherwise you're worth nothing more than fish bait.”

Now within three hours of sitting in the car waiting for the money. Which was going to be delivered at a pond six miles away. Apparently he had a friend there who was going to call him when the money came. 

After glancing at my watch for the eighteenth time. I think he’s just sitting out there waiting for a phone call so he can run. Maybe I should stop him ,but how do I kill him? With that I checked my pocket for anything. We were just sitting locked in his car while the moon peered above.I found a pencil, no the pencil. 

The one you want ,so it’s hidden somewhere around this shack. Now all you have to do is find the bones. Where are the bones? Ha if I’ll just spell it out, well maybe. You have to read to find out though. With the pencil clutched in my hand I began to hammer the window.

The man looks, opens the door and asks”what” but that’s the last thing he said, as I plunged the pencil into his throat. Now that's monsterish, but It makes me look tame compared to my other kills. A bullet per person, after of course some minor torture. Now the pencil is where the bones are and the bones where the murder happened. Now let's see if you can find the names. 

 

“Life from Death”

By Scout Totty

            The wide oak towered above the unkept yard, the silent meadow, and the one lonesome path leading to its base. Its branches reached into the windowsills of my home and wrapped around the doorways–listening and gathering our memories. It was there at its base that I stood with the blank letter in my hand. The old oak offered me stories by the thousands, and I could feel the words take shape and rest on my tongue. However, one story begged to be written, unrelinquishing its torment in my mind. Only it could truly explain my reasons, my hopes, and my dreams. As I gave in, letting the words take their final breath, the hand around my heart tightened–the reality that this would be the last story I ever told.

I grasped my mother’s hand tightly as we were led into the oncology wing of Grant Memorial Hospital. The air smelled of harsh disinfectant, and the walls themselves seemed to be apologetic.

“Have a seat,” said Dr. Margaret, gesturing to the empty chairs, “As you know, the biopsy was to rule out the smallest chance, but we are now faced with the unlikely.”

“What are you saying?” said my mother in disbelief.

“Marie’s biopsy test came back positive for cancer. It is stage 3.” 

I wondered how Dr. Margaret delivered those words that could not be taken back. Her voice faded as I watched my mother’s face. It was the face of a soul tested too much, broken too many times. 

“Mom,” I whispered, gripping her hand tighter as if I could tether her soul to the earth and her to me. 

My mother and I knew of the harsh grip of death. 5 years ago my brother, Jake, had been diagnosed with stage 3 cancer–4 years ago we buried him. I let my diagnosis tumble in my mind. It hit me with the shock of an unexpected plot twist. The question remained, how do you grieve the dying character when you are the one who is going to be dead?

They don’t tell you that when you are dying everyone lies to you. Family tells you everything is going to be okay, doctors tell you that you have a chance, and people spin out the stories of their mother who survived or their cousin who died–saying they were strong. However, Jake lied to me most of all. He never told me the crushing guilt of shattering your family and breaking your mother.

The wet dew of the grass soaked my shoes as the cold morning wind blew over my bare shoulders. Every muscle fiber seemed to quiver in anticipation as I made my way to the starting line, my heart lining up with my breaths. I crouched down and gathered my power. Then, the gun went off and electricity shot me forward towards the finish. I turned the corner with 100 meters to go when a sharp needle pierced me, and I was torn from my memory. I opened my eyes to the cold white room lined with chairs–stations to pump poison into cancer’s victims. A boy sat to my right reading Treasure’s Island.

“Good book?” I asked.

“Nothing better to do,” he replied, gesturing around, “and apparently neither do you since you’re talking to me. Really, your diagnosis must be horrible if you finally gave in and said a word.”

“What do you mean,” I said, taken aback.

“I’ve been here for a month and not even a glance.”

“You haven’t been here for a month,” I denied.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said.

“I was diagnosed with stage 3,” I said quietly.

“So you’re screwed.”

His honesty shocked me into silence, and it seemed that there was still someone truthfully blunt left in this world.

Noticing it, he said, “It’s okay. I’m screwed too. Nice to meet you.”

Over the next couple of weeks of chemo, my conversations with the Treasure’s Island boy became longer and more frequent. I admired his refreshing honesty, and he admired my ability to spin stories by the thousands, carrying us away from death’s crevasse.

On January 4th, my mother and I visited Dr. Margaret’s office once again to be informed of the cancer’s progression. As we walked down the corridor, I dared to hope. I imagined Dr. Margaret telling us I was cancer free. The way we would dance into the night in celebration. However, her face did not match my dream. 

"Good morning, Marie and Mrs. Johnson. I’m afraid I have bad news. Marie’s cancer has progressed to stage 4. With treatment we’re looking at about 6 months, but without it about 3 months.” 

In a split second, reality invaded my thoughts and strangled me, but then the weight that had been suffocating me for months lifted. I had a new dream–ending my story on my own terms.

“But there must be something else you can do,” pleaded my mother, “more clinical trials or more chemo or more.”

            Dr. Margaret grasped my mother’s frail hand, and an unspoken understanding passed between us. Those kind, knowledgeable eyes had looked into my soul and knew that I had accepted my fate.

            “Listen to me Elizabeth,” she said, using my mother’s first name as if she was a child, “we can give Marie 3 good months or 6 bad ones. Your daughter has 3 months to live her life and be happy.”

“No, no, no, she needs longer. We can do more,” my mother said, pulling away.

“Mom,” I whispered, my voice cracking. I pleaded with her to understand, but her heart had turned cold.

            “What’s wrong?” the Treasure’s Island boy asked, noticing my melancholy silence.

I told him what Dr. Margaret had said, and for a moment, the glorious spark in his eyes died. 

“Trying to beat me into the great unknown, are you?” he joked, but his voice was strained.

            I gave him a small smile, “I could be out there living and seeing the world, but I can’t do that to my mom–she won’t accept it. I can’t bear the thought of what it would do to her to see me die.”

            “What if she didn’t have to?” he asked, and an idea was born.

Over the next week we prepared, gathering money, plans, and stashing away medicine–the clock ticking down in our peripheral vision. My hands shook as I wrote two letters. The first thanked Dr. Margaret and told her where my mother could find the second letter. I looked down at the blank canvas of the second letter and wrote my story–my last goodbye forged by the hands of certain death. In its pages, I told her things I had always left unsaid–the pain I wished we had shared and the happiness I hoped she would find. I explained that I needed to live my life and provide her with a chance to move on. I ended my story saying,

I hope you will forgive me for leaving, but know that I am not alone. We are going to go see every mountain and taste every ice cream flavor. We will count the stars and dream of the galaxies. We will live a life as fulfilling as the eldest person and have an ending worthy of a thousand books. I will always love you.

-Marie

I walked up the lonesome path to the great oak and in its branches left the letter–one last memory. I looked up at its outstretched arms, its beautiful leaves, and breathed in its sweet hickory scent one last time before turning my back. I walked away grasping the hand of the Treasure Island boy as we walked into the crimson sunset–going to live our life–leaving our cancer behind.

 

"The Burner"

By Jaxon Davis

“Clang, Clang, Clang, Clang.” Even while sitting in class I could still hear the banging of hammer on steel. “Oh,” how I wished I was at The Burner and not having to bore through another Steamengine lecture. Every dwarf knew how to build one; there was no point. Solemnly I turned my gaze over to Genaveed–one of my closest friends– her hazel brown eyes caught mine and we both rolled our eyes toward the instructor.  “BOOM,” was all I heard as another one of the crazy scientist's inventions broke through the wall and kept going. Rubble and debris flew everywhere, but despite that everyone seemed unfazed, some even laughing. If you couldn’t guess this was a regular occurrence. Genaveed and I had the exact same idea, finally a distraction. We both slowly walk backwards then sprint out the door. We rounded the corner and slow to a walk.

“Wooh, man that was fun,” I said.

“Yeah, so glad to get out of there…so you wanna go to the Burner”? Genaveed asked

“Sure, let's go,” I replied. 

They slowly walked out the main doors, and to their left–down a couple blocks–was The Burner. The largest building in StrouRing, The Burner, a 300,000 sqft mega center with millions of forges. It was an architectural marvel with its: looming black Onyx pillars, massive Gold dome overhead, hundreds of winding Granite staircases connecting everything. On the top level is the master forge; well technically it is a lot of different forges, but only the grandmasters can use the master forge. I can’t stop admiring it as we walk down the street. I take one second of my attention away from it to meet Genaveed’s stare with a glance. She hurriedly looks back to The Burner, but I keep staring. I don’t know why but I've forgotten about The Burner, and continue to stare. Finally I snap back to life and look away–with a very noticeable look of embarrassment on my face– We walk in silence for a minute or so until I can’t take it anymore. 

“So… what ya workin on right now?” I ask.

“Nothing much.” Genaveed responded. We solemnly walk the rest of the way there. When he got to his floor there was a fight–of course there was a fight–but worst of all it was Jdrungner and his cronies. Jdrungner and I were both amazing metalworkers or blacksmiths, so naturally we had always been competing against one another. As the guards dragged Jdrunger and his mischievous buddies out of the door. Suddenly there was a gigantic crash; at first I thought it was just the magma drains opening–an almost hourly occurrence–but something felt off. People seem a little too shaken up for this to be normal. As I push through the crowd of people I finally see a glimpse of what really made the noise. An 200 foot tall leviathan had smashed a hole the size of mars through the Burner. In a haze of adrenaline hundreds of people flooded down the stairs. Almost piling onto one another. I try my hardest to just keep my hand on the rough uneven texture of the hand railing. Hoping–praying–everyone’s alright. My run starts to slow and I soon get left behind by the crowd. I’m yelling–screaming–to myself to move, but my body can’t find the strength.

With the ringing in my ears and my feet barely still moving–I hear one thing through the smoke and haze. A voice, a single voice shoving through the darkness to find me a slumped heap on the floor. After a moment a wall of recognition hits me. I know this voice–it's Genaveed–her sweet angelic voice rains through the clouds and smoke. We grab one another like anchors in the stormy seas. We stumble–well mainly fall–out to safety. As soon as I think we're safe a 40 foot tentacle smashes through the last remnant of the Burner. Me and Genaveed jump to safety–or so I thought–but my pants get snagged on a rebar pole. I am dragged to the leviathans gaping maw,and just as I am about to be eaten alive. I am suddenly grabbed by some flying thing, but as I look up to see my would be rescuer. I fell.

 

“Lost at the Campsite”

By Kamari McNair

          I knew hiking in the woods with a bunch of strangers would be a terrible idea, I thought to myself. Everyone must have forgotten to do a head count before leaving the campsite or else I wouldn’t still be here, right. I lifted up my watch—10:30AM. The agreement was to leave at eight o’clock, yet I’m alone next to this damp, dewy bonfire pit still slightly smokey from the previous night. My next thought was to try contacting someone, so I reached inside my tent for my phone. It clicked on and read “No Service.”

          “You have got to be kidding me,” I said. I looked around for higher ground to step on. Only a small boulder, but I tried anyway.

          By some miracle, one bar popped onto the screen. I stood on the tips of my toes hoping for a chance at getting another bar. I did! Anyone from afar would have thought I lost my mind. My arms were raised high above my head, and my legs were stretched far beneath me. They wouldn’t have been too far from the truth.

          I searched first for my “Messages” app and attempted to type “I am alone at the campsite! Help! I’m lost!” I made some spelling and grammar mistakes, but the text should still be clear enough to read. I pressed the send button and moved to my “Phone” app to dial 911. The phone started ringing.

          “Hello, 911. What’s your emergency?” asked the operator.

I went on a tangent. “I went hiking with some people in the woods and woke up this morning, everyone was gone. There’s no Service, no Internet, and no Wi-Fi. I’m all alone and I don’t know where I am,” I pause to catch my breath. “I have no access to water or food! I’m going to die all by myself!”

          “Hello…?” There was a brief pause before the operator repeated herself. “Hello?”

          She never heard a word I said. I hung up, quickly realizing that I was am now my only hope of leaving and ever getting home again. I started to pack up my tent, my supplies, and the last bit of snacks I had left over. I knew this was a terrible idea as soon as I looked around, because I had absolutely no idea where I was or which way to go. No where on the hike up did I decide it was a good idea to pay attention. I didn’t even have a map to guide me in the right direction. To make matters worse, the first trail was split into two paths.

          Thankfully, there was a worn- down sign. Vines were covering most of the letters that had been engraved into the old wooden limb, so I walked closer to read it. After moving most of the mess out of the way, I saw just enough to piece it together. In order for me to go down, I would have to go on the left path. I started walking.

          

          What was supposed to be a two hour hike back down turned into four and a half. And by the looks of it, I was still nowhere close to being toward the bottom. I had not seen a single hiker or any other visible campsite since yesterday, and I started to get concerned. 

          I looked down and noticed that the dirt beneath me didn’t look like the dirt from the path I began hiking on. I checked my surroundings, but nothing looked familiar. Especially the river I was standing next to. It flowed at a fast rate, and I noticed that I was standing too close to it considering that I don’t know how to swim. Yet at that very moment, I tripped and fell.

          I screamed and wailed and hollered through the water hoping someone would come from nowhere and help me. The water splashed all around and on me. This would be it. This would be the moment I died alone in the woods.

          My vision started to become blurry, but I could make out a figure that looked like it was coming in my direction. I was lifted out of the water and on my feet. I rubbed my eyes and saw one of the hikers next to me. He had one arm wrapped around my back and under my arm and told me to walk with him. I did, and he led me to the bottom of the mountain which wasn’t too far. 

          Sure enough, everyone I went hiking with was still waiting for me. Everyone apologized for their grave mistake that went unnoticed. Luckily, I am still alive and well (barely), but I’ve learned a valuable lesson from this experience and will never make it again.

 

 

“Unnatural Selection”

By Jana Tomlin

 

Somehow, the feeling of being trapped has only increased since departing from my detainment. I doubt Peter is thinking the same, he’s just happy to be out. Out from not quite a prison, more of a rehabilitation for young adults. Where you sit in your shared rooms and only leave to eat or to fingerpaint in hopes of reforming your tortured, juvenile minds. All the staff pretended to care about the well-being of all the residents, but it became clear where their priorities lie when they abandoned us all. I wonder if any of them have survived as long as we have. I glance back over to Peter to see him lost in thought–which is unusual–gazing through the windshield as pellets of diseased rain pound the outside. His dusty blonde hair, opposite of my onyx colored, stands up in all directions from rough sleeping a moment ago. 

“You can go back to sleep, we still have about 40 miles to the gas station. We can trade there,” I say, breaking the silence.

“I need to shake this tiredness before I try to drive through this stupid rain, June.”

I nod my head, not wanting to further the conversation. I was named June while I was stuck in rehabilitation because I was admitted in the month June, and I didn’t speak to anyone to tell them any different. I don’t know Peter well. We weren’t even on the same floor. Despite my preference to travel alone, Peter and I were the only ones smart enough to get out while we could. I see Peter out of the corner of my eye reach for the radio again. I slap his hand away and don’t bother to look at him. There hasn’t been a radio announcement since the staff allowed us to listen out before they ditched us. I’ve been driving for what feels like an eternity and I’m exhausted. I guess that’s why I’m hallucinating right now, because there can’t be a hitchhiker on the side of this otherwise deserted road a short distance away. I slow the van to a stop and point him out to Peter. He leans forward, his scrubs swishing against each other and squints. The hitchhiker waves his arms and starts moving towards us.

“But, he’s in the rain. How’s he alive? I don’t trust this,” Peter stutters out.

I’ve seen first hand what the poison rain can do to somebody, my roomate at the facility, and this hitchhiker is in a very different state than my roommate. He comes up to Peter’s window and waves his hand. As I examine him, I see no bloodshot eyes, no boils on his skin, no foaming of the mouth, and– almost forgot– he’s breathing. 

“He might know a place for survivors, Peter. We can’t keep driving to the ends of the earth living off gas station twinkies,.” I bluntly explain.

“June, this man is standing in the same rain we watched take your roommate's life, and you think just letting him into our van is a good idea?”

“I think it’s worth the risk, I mean, maybe some people are just immune to the rain. All I know is we’re not going to find out why this is happening if we stay alone in this van forever.”

Peter bows his head in defeat, and moves to open the door.

“Get in quick, don’t get any rain on me,” Peter instructs. “And shut the door too, please.” 

Both men seemed very on edge because of one another. Peter was frightened of the rain, but it seems the hitchhiker is anxious for some other reason.

“Name?” I ask.

“Riley.”

“What are you doing in the rain, and why aren’t you dead?” 

“I was one of the selected.”

I pause for a moment, but Peter jumps in without missing a beat.

“What are you talking about?” 

“You mean you don’t know about the selection? And you’re still alive?” Riley asked.

I study Riley a bit more before responding. He’s older than Peter and me, maybe mid-twenties. He’s breathing heavily through his slightly crooked nose–similar to Peter’s. He’s beginning to fidget under my gaze, and Peter is watching me expectantly.

“The rain, tell me what you know about it, Riley. Tell me,” I demand. “If it’s a natural disaster, like the last news report said, or if it was sent. Man-made.”

“You weren’t selected. You’re not going to live long enough for it to matter anyways.” 

I narrow my eyes, giving him another chance. Peter gives me a knowing look. I pounce over the center console, slamming Riley and myself onto the hard floor of the van. I pin him down and place my forearm across his trachea. It reminds me of why I got sent to the rehabilitation hospital.

“Answer my question!” I threaten.

 I hope it came out as venomous as I intended it to. 

“Fine, okay,” he slaps my arm. “It’s not like it’ll make a difference.” 

“Well?” Peter pushes.

“As you know, in recent years overpopulation has increased astronomically from its already elevated numbers. An organization, above the government, set to action the Selection. In short, high contributors to society were selected and made immune to the–yes–man-made poison in the rain. What the rain does not take care of, enforcers are sent to finish the job,” Riley explains.

I try not to showcase how stunned I am, but I know it’s written on both of our faces. No wonder we didn’t know about it, no juvenile delinquents would be considered a contribution to their society. 

“What are you doing out here then, if you were selected?” Peter asks.

 Peter’s right, this doesn’t make sense.

“I’m an enforcer,” Riley grins.

A feeling of sickness invades my stomach and I can feel bile rising in my throat. The three of us stay frozen, not making any moves. There’s nowhere to run. If I stay in this van, I’m going to be killed. If I leave the van and go outside, the rain will kill me. In my panic, I didn’t see Riley move to the door of the van. I reach for him, at the same time he opens it, too late. Peter dives over me and pulls Riley back down. I turn to the front seat to find something to defend myself with, but when I turn back around, the two have wrestled out of the van, onto the asphalt, and in the rain. Peter begins twitching, and I start to reach out to him, but the rain makes me stop. Riley pushes his now limp body off of him. I choke out a sob when I see Peter’s face, the same as my roommate's was. Riley stands up and turns to me.

“I’m not just an enforcer, I’m a recruiter as well,” he states.

I just slump down further on my knees, unable to tear my eyes away from Peter. 

“I’m going to make you an enforcer, I’m saving your life.”

His words barely register. All I can think of is how it was my idea to let this man inside, and Peter paid the price for it. Removing something from his pocket, he approaches me. I try to scramble backwards but he drags me back. A sharp pain radiates through my neck, where he injected something under my skin. I fall limp and allow him to drag me out of the van. My hope vanishes when I sit under the rain, perfectly alive. My spine is jarred from the impact, but I pay no mind. Riley’s face, under drenched, matted hair, is the last thing I see before a fabric envelopes my head and my vision goes dark along with my consciousness.  

 

“Sam’s last adventure”

By Thomas Evans

 

“That was the last of it, everything should be in the back.” stated Jacob, my 19 year old son who was helping me load my bags onto a single engine plane. 

“Are you sure you want to do this alone? I'm sure I could take a week off from my classes to go with you.” Said jacob.

“Yes I’m sure, there is no need to take time off from class when I'm capable of doing this myself” I said back to him. 

“The plane is ready,” said the pilot with a rather snappy tone. I then told my son goodbye and boarded this small and somewhat sketchy plane. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to take a single engine plane halfway across the country, but I would soon come to regret my decision. We left from a small airport in Arkansas and headed towards Alaska, a little more than 3000 miles away. It should have taken us about 24 hours, since the pilot decided not to sleep and just make the trip. Except we did stop but not where or how we wanted to.

 “I never happened to catch your name.” I said to the pilot, 

“John”

“Where are you from”

“Mississippi”

I could tell from his short answers and snappy tone he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. At this time we had made it over Wyoming and were starting to go over Idaho, still only having said those few words to John. 

“Are you sure you don't need to stop at an airport, this is a long flight for such a small plane?” I said hoping he would agree seeing as he looked so tired, and the sun was starting to set.

“No, I'm making this whole flight.” John said with an even snappier tone than before.

Still having around 12 hours, I didn't think he would make the whole flight. Before long I regretfully fell asleep.

I woke up not too long after, to very loud beeping and when I looked at John he was asleep. 

“John!” I yelled but he was unable to hear me. I then tried shaking him in hopes of him waking and regaining control of the aircraft. 

“John, wake up! I said again this time as loud as I possibly could.This time I was able to wake him. He opened his eyes and immediately tried to pull the airplane back up, but it was already too late. The bottom of the plane was starting to hit to topps of the tall trees. All we could do now is brace for impact and hope we were somewhat close to some sort of civilization. 

I woke up to daylight peeking through the trees and on my face. I somehow was able to survive, and not have any severe injuries. I got out of the plane to try and see how badly the place was destroyed, if I had anything left of my belongings, and to see if John was alive. As it was turning out my three day hunting trip was beginning to look like a survival trip that could last for God only knows how long. As I arrived on the other side of the plane I could then see John. With a severed head and covered in blood I could tell that he was already gone, and I was now all by myself somewhere in between Idaho and Alaska during a very cold time of the year. I rushed to the back of the plane to see if I would be able to get any of my belongings out the back to increase my chances of survival. I was unable to get the back open but there were holes in the side of the plane where the wings had been ripped off. I crawled through one of the human sized holes and started dragging bags outside so that I could assess everything and see what I had left. One of my bags, which had some of my clothes in it, had been almost completely destroyed. When I got to the bag that had my bow in it I was overjoyed to see that it was ok. After retrieving all of the bags from the partial plane, I had some clothes, a single notepad and pen, my bow, only 3 MREs, most of my animal processing supplies, and some of the cooking supplies I had brought. I thought I was set up and someone would find me before I ran out of food, but I was very wrong. 

I've been keeping track of how many days that I have been here by writing in this notepad (it has also been a great help with starting fires). Today was a great milestone, as today I was able to kill a deer, which has supplied me with enough food to last for a couple days. I've been staying in the hull of this plane that is keeping me dry and somewhat warm as it's beginning to get colder every day. I was lucky enough to find a creek not too far from where my mini homestead is. There is a downside though as every morning I must break a hole in the ice to get water, and everyday the ice keeps getting thicker, and there will be a point where I don't think I will be able to break the ice anymore. Everyday I begin to miss my family more and more, and life out here just keeps getting harder and harder.  

Today I suspect it will be much more difficult than the previous days, since the temperature has been dropping and I'm running out of food again. I need to go get food but I don't have much more energy. If I am not rescued soon I don't know if I will make it out alive. 

This will probably be my last journal entry, as I am out of food and don't think I will make it through the night. If this journal is found please try and get it to my son Jacob Rambo who lives in Arkansas. 

 

“Flight 108 is Hijacked”

By Connor Cairney                 

 

            “Where is my boarding pass, I just put it down and now it disappeared.” The boarding pass that was desperately needed had simply fallen under the table that it was placed on, but Barto could not seem to find it. 

“Did you look under the table, It might be there” his mother chimed in. Sure enough Barto saw it and was about to be out the door and on the way to the airport but he forgot something important, and he rushed back and gave his mother a big hug. He knew he wouldn't see her for a month due to all the stuff he had to take care of in Toronto that he was not looking forward to.

“Have a safe trip Barto, and please stay out of trouble” He said yes and bid his farewell and was soon on his way to The Baton Rouge Airport, where he would take the short flight.

Barto despised the Airport. He hated how everyone was rushing and how they all had the same expression, Which was just annoyed mixed with sad looks. He was always told by his mother to smile all the time, because it really can brighten someone's day even a slight bit. He looked at his boarding pass, and saw that it read Gate B7. He made a quick walk over and before he knew it he was already at the security checkpoint. He showed the TSA his passport and was soon cleared to go to the gates. A quick walk down the long hallway and he was soon at gate B7. On the big screen it read flight 108 to Toronto Pearson's International Airport. He was nervous as he was boarding the plane. What if it ran out of fuel? What if it lost engine power? So many things could go wrong.

“Boarding pass please” The check in lady asked. Barto gave it to her silently, deep in thought.

”Have a good flight”. The lady said it in such a creepy way Barto thought. He felt like she knew something he didn't. And the somehow cold smile she gave certainly did not help ease his nerves. He pushed those thoughts away as he got to his seat. The plane was a very small propeller driven aircraft. He realized very few people were on it. His row had four seats and only two of them were occupied. The seatbelt light turned on and they were soon in the air.

Barto sat right behind the cockpit, along with a younger man with long hair. Barto soon found out by talking to him that his name was Dawson, and he was going to his hometown of Shelburne to be married.

“I can't wait to be her husband, she is the best” he stated.

“That's great, I'm very happy for you,” Barto said. Barto was slightly annoyed by all the talking this Dawson fellow was doing but he stayed polite and smiled. All was calm until the plane gave a great shake as if something from outside shoved it. The plane took a great dive and it was all chaos. People were screaming and crying thinking that they were about to perish. Many were praying. The plane suddenly went still and was calmly flying in the air. The cabin door shot open and the pilot tied in a thick rope was thrown out, bruised and bloody. He was still alive and gasped out that he was sorry. Dressed as a pilot, a short man came out. And stepped over the injured pilot. Everyone gasped, their worst nightmare had just come true. The short man was carrying a rifle, The plane had been hijacked. He had short curly hair, and he wore aviator sunglasses. He took the glasses off and everybody knew who he was. He was the criminal mastermind that was known as Bez. Nobody knew where he was from, and nobody knew his real name.

“As you may or may not have realized, I have hijacked your plane. All of you are going to help me out of this country and make some money, or I will simply kill you.” Bez said in a cool voice. Bez was known for his insane heists and that he rarely left survivors, Many people were crying. There were about 30 people on the plane in total. It was a tiny aircraft.

“I have a bomb in this duffle bag. If one of you makes a move I'm gonna blow this plane up and you and me with it.” Everyone new Bez would do it. He had a big red button that would explode the bomb. Bez went back to the cabin and adjusted the plane's course. They were now headed for the Canadian brush where Bez would collect the money for not killing everyone and where he would escape. Barto was now surprisingly angry, he didn't like how Bez thought he could do whatever he wanted to do. Barto was gonna regain control of this plane. 

“We are gonna take control of this plane and take Bez out, He needs to be stopped” Barto told Dawson.

“How, he has a bomb and a gun, we would all be dead.” Dawson replied.

“We have to act fast, faster than he can react to us,” he replied. While Bez was communicating to the Canadian authorities asking for some ransom money, Dawson and Barto silently got up from their seats and motioned for the other passengers to not say anything. They were already right behind the cabin and were in place.

“On the count of three we are going to go and tackle Bez, he won't hear us because he is talking very loud.’’ Barto whispered. Dawson was very nervous but gave a nod building confidence.

“Ok, let's do this,” he said.  They went in perfect synchrony, silently creeping up on Bez who still had the rifle in his lap. Bez had put the bomb detonator to the side. They were about five feet behind him when Bez looked back in surprise.

“What the-,'' Bez said. He could not finish his sentence before Barto was on him pounding him and Dawson was trying to take the gun. A loud CRACK went off when bez pulled the trigger. The bullet had not hit them. Dawson snatched the rifle and used it to hit Bez on the forehead, Knocking him out cold. Bez clumsily fell and knocked the detonator off the instrument board and it fell to the ground hitting the red detonator button. Dawson and Barto knew they were dead. They just looked at it knowing it was the end of the line for them.

“Well we did the best we could, goodbye Dawson.” he said. Dawson was quiet until he spoke softly.

“Wait the bomb would have exploded by now, check the inside of the duffle bag. Maybe there is no actual bomb.” Barto checked the bag cautiously, He unzipped it only to find some paper towel rolls that looked like bombs. They were saved after all. Just after that Bez slowly stood up and with a loud SMACK dawson hit the back of his head with the rifle, and he was done for good. They had saved the plane.

“Lets wake the pilot up, and let's finish this nightmare trip for good.” Barto said. They walked up to the tied up pilot but there was no answer, he was pale and cold. His white jacket was bloody with a big wound at his heart. Dawson and Barto both knew that he was dead. He had been hit by the stray bullet Bez fired in the cabin. Who would fly the plane? 

“A Champion's Return”

By Ryder Garrett

 

            With the sun setting over the mansions in Beverly Hills Juan thought it was a good idea to head home. He finished planting the flowers for his customer’s garden and packed away his tools. Juan got his money from the owner and left the property and headed east towards Victor Heights on his bike. Juan Carlos was an immigrant from Mexico, he came to America in search of a new life. He was 5’4” and weighed 285 lbs, he spent most of his time in the sun which made his skin a shade of dark brown. Juan had black, curly hair that he kept trimmed out of his brown eyes.

Juan spent most of his money on alcohol, mostly Modelo. He drank to forget, he rarely brought up his past, even his wife did not know much about him before they met. The truth is, Juan was a former professional Mexican wrestler known by the name as El Nacho. He was feared by all and loved by many. He could stare at the sun without blinking for hours. He was the most dangerous man in Mexico. That was until he suffered the biggest injury of his life and gave up wrestling for good. Now Juan lives a simple life as an immigrant in Los Angeles.

Juan got to his apartment around 8 o’clock, his wife was asleep on the recliner and the kids were watching tv. It was a small apartment with one small bathroom, a kitchen and 2 bedrooms. Juan went to the kitchen, grabbed a beer, sat down on the couch and changed the TV channel to something he wanted to watch. He opened up his bottle and started drinking. His wife started to wake up so he turned the TV down low.

“How was work today papá?” Juan’s son asked him.

“It was good, I planted some flowers for an old lady up in the Hills.” 

“How much did she pay you?”

“She paid me enough.” Juan said with a sigh. Juan’s son knew how poor his family was so he decided not to ask anymore questions about how much money he made.

            Juan woke up at 5:00 the next morning, as usual and rode down to Muscle Beach. Although he was through with wrestling, he still liked to stay in shape. He got to the recreation area and started doing some pull ups. After he finished doing 100 pull ups he went over to the weight area and went to the bench. He started light with 12 reps of 315 pounds and worked his way up to 405 pounds for 5. Juan had almost finished his workout when two men in suits approached him.

 Juan knew they weren't coming to workout, obviously because they were in suits. One man was tall and slender with a face that was ghost white--as if it had never seen the sun before until this moment-- and long black hair slicked back in a ponytail. The other man had a big and bulky stature, with a shaved head and a perfectly chiseled face. He looked like he could wrestle a horse and win. They started to walk towards him, Juan kept doing his workout. The Big Man jumped over the guard rail, his grip was so strong he left a hand shaped mark in the railing. He walked up to Juan and looked down at him.

 “You need to come with us, sir.” 

“Why?”  Juan was confused, why was this guy here? Who was he? Where did he come from?

“Sir, I'm with the Mexican Wrestling League, and we need you to come back to Mexico”

“How do you know where I’m from?”

“The boss knows where everyone that ever wrestled in Mexico is at.”

“No, I’m not going back, I have a family and a job as a gardener here in America.”

“You’ll get a minivan if you come with us.”

“When do we leave?”

            Juan traveled with the men down to Mexico in the minivan. Juan sat in the back seat and watched the open roads go by. Juan felt a bad feeling on the way there, but when they crossed the border into Mexico Juan felt the memories flashback to him. He remembered when he and his friends used to play soccer with whatever they could find. He remembered walking home from school everyday with his friends. The car stopped outside of a big stadium, with a loud cheering crowd.

            “Follow me, I’ll show you where to prepare.” The pale man told Juan.

            “Prepare for what? What's going on?” Juan felt like he should have asked questions in the car ride there.

            “The Wrestling match of course!” The big man said as he walked up to a gate and unlocked it with a key from his pocket. Juan felt dizzy, it brought back bad memories of his injury.

            “I thought this was just a meeting with the Mexican Wrestling League? I can’t do this, I haven’t wrestled for years!” Juan slowly started backing away from them.

            “You don't have a choice in this.” The slender man pulled out a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Juan.

            “I think it would be best if you come with us, unless you want to stay in Mexico forever”

            Juan put his hands up and followed in between the two men. He could feel the gun poking his back as they walked. They were walking through a hallway for a few minutes until they reached a room at the end. The big man opened the door and showed him inside. The room had a small bench in the middle, a toilet, and a mirror.

            “Hey, you might want this.” The big man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a white and orange spandex suit and threw it on the bench. It was Juan’s old wrestling suit. The big man slammed the door behind him and left Juan in the room by himself. Juan stared down at his suit and picked it up.

            “Well, here goes nothing.” Juan put on his suit and headed towards the arena. Juan could hear the crowd’s cheering go on from under the bleachers. He walked towards the starting area behind a curtain. There was a man there that told him to wait until they called his name. Juan was warmed up and ready to wrestle. The crowd went silent, and then a speaker came on.

            “Saliendo del retiro, el campeón invicto, feroz y de infarto, ¡El Nacho!” Juan walked out taunting the crowd and looking at his opponent, he looked like an easy win to Juan.

            “Maybe, I can do this,” Juan looked around at the roaring crowd, “yep I definitely can.”

“Beached Beside Fire”

By Dylan Strickland

            David Robets woke up to the ship shaking. He went to the top of the ship and saw that the ship was beached. He then walked up to the captain's quarters and noticed a few seamen trying to knock down the door to the control room. 

One person standing off to the side walked up to me and said, “Roberts, you are now acting captain of this ship. Captain Jacobs and First Mate Adams crashed the ship and now we are stuck. As a second mate, you are now in control of the ship.”

“It’s low tide right now, so if we wait six hours it will be high tide.”

The door to the captain’s quarters then swung open and out stepped the captain and first mate. The man then told David to go get his stuff and bring it to the captain's quarters.

David decided to first walk over to the brig to talk to the former captain of the ship. He sat down next to the holding cell.

“First off, you are the captain of this huge battleship, so why did you beach it?”

Captain Jacobs remained silent and just stared at David.

“Should I reword what I said? Why did you crash the boat?”

No answer.

“Maybe I’ll just ask your co-conspirator,” David Roberts said, walking to another holding cell.

“Alright Adams--”

“You don’t address me like that!” Adams snapped back. “I am your superior--”

David interrupted, “I am not the one behind bars and I am certainly not the one who crashed this ship. Now tell me why you crashed this ship.”

“I thought I was the co-conspirator,” Adams said.

“Then you should know why you and Jacobs crashed the ship.”

“You mean Captain Jacobs?”

Roberts turned around and left the brig.

 

A few soldiers in the Kangnam Mountains walked over to their commander, who gave them a piece of paper and then told them to deliver it to Bay 5.

 

David Roberts walked over to the satellite communicator specialists and asked how long it would be until he could call someone.

“Oh, about five to ten minutes I’d say,” said one worker.

Roberts walked around the ship for a little bit then saw some seamen heading to the island. They seemed to have a volleyball and a net out. David smiled and then saw a red spark in the sky.

“Back to the boat!” David yelled.

Everyone immediately got on the boat as fire started to spread throughout the island and one person walked up to David.

“Captain, we have about thirty minutes before the fire gets to us.”

“The water won't be at high tide for another two hours.”

“Well, we ought to do something.”

“Sir, we now know what country we’re in.”

“Well where in the world are we?”

 

A soldier walked up to the commander and whispered that the strike had hit the island. The commander congratulated the team and told them that they could leave the mountains if they wished to visit their families.

 

David Roberts walked up to the brig and told the guards to get both of the soldiers in the interrogation room. He then walked in there and yelled at them.

“Both of you decided to land us in North Korea? Treason! I will guarantee that the last time you see sunlight is exiting this ship to get on a bus to go to prison!”

Captain Jacobs grinned and said, “This is better than I planned.”

“Stop wasting my time, I have some phone calls to make, the acting First Mate will take care of you.”

Roberts walked to the captains quarters and got on the telephone, he dialed up Navy Base Guam and said, “This is Acting Captain Roberts of the U.S. 5.5 Maine class. The Captain and First Mate have gone rouge and landed us on North Korean property. North Korea has fired missiles at us and fire is approaching our ship. I ask that you send help. We have approximately fifteen minutes until our ship is burned.”

There was a pause and then someone responded with, “Acting Captain Roberts, the quickest we can get there by ship is twenty-five minutes. I would like to suggest that you build a trench-like structure about fifty yards from the ship. We can send a plane over-head with water within ten minutes, if you believe that the fire isn't too out of control.”

“You can try it, but I highly doubt that it will help, thank you for the offer, though.” 

“Alright we are sending the plane overhead to try and slow it down.”

“Understood.”

Acting Captain Roberts put down the radio and turned on the loudspeaker of the ship.

“Acting First Mate John, please report to the captain’s quarters. For the rest of us, if you are not on post right now, go down to the island and build a trench around the area so the fire won’t get to the boat.”

Acting First Mate John walked into the captain’s quarters and said, “What do you need me to do?”

“Please stay on the radio with Guam.”

 

In the Kangnam Mountains a soldier walked up to the commander and told him that a spy jet saw the ship was still on the island. The commander immediately started to write something and told him to deliver it to bay five.

 

Acting Captain David Roberts picked up a shovel and started to dig around the boat to keep the fire from spreading. He dug and dug as the fire spread closer and closer to the boat. Then the loudspeaker turned on.

“Captain Roberts, please report to the Captain's quarters immediately.”

He took his shovel back to the boat and walked up to his quarters.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“There is a jet…”

 

In the skies about three minutes away from the island, a pilot spoke into the radio and reported four and a half minutes away, misleading the commanders so they thought he did it quicker than expected. He thought about the rewards he would receive and dreamt of standing next to the supreme leader, as a hero.

 

In the brig, the Former Captain and Former First Mate whispered to each other at the interrogation table.

“I thought we were going to land in Russia,” Adams said, “we were going to land on the shore and the federal security service was going to arrest everyone, hold them hostage, reward us with money and a room in the Kremlin!”

“Keep your voice down,” Jacobs said, “that was our plan, but this is even better, if we had something to communicate with, then we could get North Korea to do what Russia was going to do. They would put us on a train to Russia, and we would take a flight to the Kremlin.”

A guard walked into the room and told them to get up. They walked over to a cell and put both of them in it. They looked out the window and saw the Pacific Ocean.

 

The pilot radioed in that he would be there in one minute, knowing that it would be fifteen seconds. He already started his descent and there was five seconds until he would reach the edge of the island.

 

Captain Roberts turned on the loudspeaker and said, “Prepare fire.”

He looked up at the sky, he saw the plane was in position to start bombing.

“Fire!”

 

The pilot then pressed the release button and the missiles started dropping one by one. He radioed in that he hit the ship, and that he was going to take another strike just to make sure everyone was dead. He circled around and dropped another bomb and started his flight home.

“The Ending Days”

By Jay Johnson

 

            It was looking like the end of the road for Dawson as he sat there defeated, ready to accept his fate. But something happened and there was a big crashing sound. Dawson could hear it but not see it. He had no energy; he couldn’t move.

            Two months earlier, it was just a normal Thursday for Dawson. He had worked like normal from eight until three, and he was just ready to be home. It was around one thirty when Dawson checked his phone to see if he had any messages, then he saw a breaking news notification on his phone. The headline read “Poland Army Invades Germany”. Dawson was in shock, but he knew what he had to do.

About five years ago, in the spring of 2056, Dawson was driving on his way home from work. In his beat up white Toyota Tundra, there was a big storm sweeping through the Stricklandville area. When he was only a few minutes away from home, his car gave a big shake. Dawson, not knowing what just happened, stepped outside the car and was delivered a big shock by a bolt of lightning. From that point forward his life would never be the same. From the lightning strike he gained superpowers. Now he would be able to fly, have super speed, and have superhuman strength.

When Dawson arrived at home he went looking for his fiancée. He could not find her and he had no idea where she might be. When he went into the living room he saw her watching the television, and he could see that it was about the bad news.

Dawson asked, “Oh so you saw the news?”

His fiancée replied, “Yes. It’s  terrible.”

He told her, “Hanna, I know what I have to do. I have to take the walk [Why not fly?] to Poland, and save the world.”

She said, starting to tear up, “I know you need to. Just be safe.” 

Then Dawson went to his room and put on his super suit and walked out the door.

He took flight and set out to put an end to the leader of Poland. It did not take long to get there since Dawson could travel at the speed of light. When he touched down in Poland he saw a very familiar face. It was his capybara friend, who helped Dawson save the town of Stricklandville about five years ago. 

“Jeff, what are you doing here?” Dawson asked.

“I am here to get my family out of this place before things get really bad,” Jeff stated.

Dawson replied, “I might need help…I am here to take down the person behind this chaos.”

Jeff said, “I am not a superhero anymore. I have a family to take care of now.”

“Ok. Keeping your family safe is a number one priority,” 

Dawson left to go try and figure out how he would solve the war. He was going to need help but nobody else provided any . For all Dawson knew there was only one other superhero on the planet, and they could not help him. So, Dawson decided to get something to eat so he could think even more on what to do.  He decided to go get a fresh Polish Bratwurst, since those were very popular in Poland. 

            When Dawson woke up in the morning, he knew it was the day he put his plan to action. He would take down the dictator. So he flew to Warsaw, Poland to hopefully find him once and for all. 

            After he landed in Warsaw, he needed to know where to go. He had to stop the evil dictator from doing anymore damage. Dawson went around asking people if they knew where he lived. 

Dawson came up to some guy wearing a kilt and asked him, “Do you know where the leader of Poland lives?”

“Yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

“I'm just here to ask him a couple of questions.”

“Well sir, if you would like to see him do you know his name?”

“No. I have no idea what his name is.”

“Well, if you don't know what his name is, why do you expect to be able to see him?”

“Well, can you please tell me what his name is so I can ask someone else who could help me?”

“Yes. His name is Antoni,” the man answered furiously.

Dawson replied, “Thank you. What is your name?”

            “My name is Antoni as well.”

At that very moment, Dawson had a realization: he was talking to the very man he needed to fight. Without any further questions, Dawson decided to strike, punching him into the air like a ragdoll. He flew back into some barrels that broke around him. Now everybody was watching and videoing the situation. Then one of the shopkeepers in the town started spraying Dawson with a water hose. When Dawson turned around Antoni fled the scene. Dawson turned around and realized that he made a huge mistake.

            He flew up into the air to see if he could get a better view of the area. When he was one hundred feet up, he saw Antoni running and heading towards a factory. Dawson raced to the factory door but when he got there it was too late. Antoni was already inside the factory and whatever was on the inside, Dawson would have to fight. When Dawson went inside, he could see something but couldn’t tell what it was. All he could see was a tall, shiny metallic object under a cloth.

            Dawson called out, “Hey! Where did you go?” Instantly, the lights flickered on and he could tell what the strange object was. It was a robot army waiting to be used. Antoni then appeared with a red button in his hand.

            “Are you ready to die?” yelled Antoni. 

            “No!” Dawson screamed.

Dawson charged at him, and Antoni pressed the red button that turned all the robots on. Twenty robots started shooting at him. Dawson was flying around trying not to get hit, but it was not working. One at a time, he kept getting shot. It hurt too much to keep flying. Dawson fell down to the ground with a crash that would break any other person's bones, but not Dawson. He would need to regain his strength if he wanted any chance of surviving. Dawson crawled very  slowly into a shipping container to hide. As Dawson waited there, he heard something burst through the window. He could not tell what it was. He looked out of the container. It was Jeff and he was there to finish things once and for all. 

            Dawson screamed, “Yes! You really pulled up.”

            Jeff responded, “I will do anything to help a friend out that once helped me.”

Seeing his friend show up for him gave him strength, and suddenly he felt better. Dawson grabbed the leg of one robot and slammed it to the ground, and Jeff flew by and went through the chest of another . The robots didn’t know what to do. It was easy from now on, nothing could stop them. The chemistry between Dawson and Jeff was unmatched, and they  defeated the army of robots with ease. Once the robots were defeated, they were tired and needed-rest. But one thing still plagued them.           

“Where did Antoni go?” Dawson questioned.

            “I have no idea,” said Jeff

There was no sight of him; it was almost as if he disappeared into thin air. Another search would have to begin if they wanted to take him down once and for all. And Dawson was willing to do anything to stop him.

“The Boat and the Barn”

By Presley DuBois

 

            “My dad is gonna kill me,” Maggie Summers muttered under her breath while hoping for a miracle. She and two friends were out on Mr. Summers’ fancy ski boat. Just as they were about to dock, the engine shut off. Maggie didn’t know it, but her miracle walked by at the right moment. 

            “Is there a problem?” Apparently, Maggie wasn’t as quiet as she thought. The three girls looked up and saw a tall, attractive boy around their age. All but Maggie were speechless. 

            “I tore up my dad’s boat, and if I don’t get it fixed he’ll lose his mind.” Maggie was always the fearless one, saying whatever to whoever she pleased. 

            “May I?” he asked. Maggie nodded her head and ushered the boy onto the boat to take a look at the engine. When his back was turned, the girls shared a mischievous glance and started to silently pick on Maggie. The two instantly quit when he turned back around. Before he could even say anything, Maggie fired her next question.

            “What’s your name? You know it’s rude to walk up to someone and not introduce yourself.” Maggie’s face was a telltale that she was joking, but the boy seemed to be oblivious to her flirtatious ways..

            “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s Aaron,” he said in a meek manner. Maggie could tell Aaron was flustered by her question. Nevertheless, she continued to pick at him.

            “You’re not gonna ask my name? I’ll just tell you then. Maggie Summers.” She held out her hand for a handshake, which confused Aaron even more. He’d never met a girl like Maggie, so fearless, and not caring if she made a fool of herself. Finally, it clicked that she was flirting and he began to flirt back.     

“What if I didn’t want to know your name?” he said with a smile. 

            “Then you’re missing out.” The two teenagers gazed at one another. Aaron then remembered why he actually stepped onto the boat . . . to help the girls with the engine.

            “Oh right, the engine. So, it looks like an easy fix, but it will take me a day or two. You could leave it docked right here and I’ll  work on it when I can.”

            “How am I supposed to know that you aren’t going to just take off with the boat? Then I’d be in even more trouble for letting some guy steal it. I’ll come out here with you, you know, to supervise.” Maggie was half joking, but there was some seriousness in her words. “How about tomorrow at noon? Meet me here and I’ll have the keys.”

            “Ok, that works for me, I guess.” Aaron awkwardly got off the boat and waved goodbye to the three girls.

            “See you tomorrow, Aaron,” Maggie called out to him. He turned around and smiled at her sheepishly. 

Aaron headed toward The Rocks, a cafe along the shore. He found his cousin, Danny, and Danny’s girlfriend, Sophie, and sat down across from them. “Ok, Aaron, we seriously need to talk. What are you going to do? You don’t have anywhere to live after you left Uncle Sam’s and you’re staying at some old man’s barn” Danny inquired. 

            “Danny, I’m okay in the barn. Tuck lets me use his shower, and he has a nice cot out there so I’m not sleeping on the dirt. I appreciate your and Sophie’s concern, but trust me, I’m good. Way better off than I would be at my dad’s place.” Aaron got frustrated with his cousin because he didn’t understand what living with Aaron’s dad was like. He was abusive, and constantly talked down to him. He even made him quit school for a good amount of time. Aaron was just thankful to old man Tuck that he was letting him live in his barn. He went to the barn for the night, only to lay awake on the cot, contemplating his life.

In the morning, Maggie Summers was up and full of energy. She had always been an early riser, contrary to the rest of her family, excluding her dad. She was dressed and in the kitchen at 8 a.m. ready for the day. Her dad walked in and didn’t even notice Maggie at the table. He grabbed a stack of the pancakes she made and left, not ever acknowledging her, or even saying thanks. Maggie sighed, but wasn’t surprised. Her dad had never been a caring father, but he’d also never been bad to her or her siblings. He just avoided them, like he never wanted them in the first place. The time to leave for the dock finally arrived, so Maggie drove her BMW convertible over there. When she pulled up, Aaron was standing there in shock.

            “Holy cow, that’s a nice car. I’d love to take a look in the hood to just see how everything looks.” Aaron was a very mechanical guy and loved to fix up cars and boats.

            “Well, nothing’s wrong with it, so I don't see a need.” Maggie didn’t understand the infatuation some guys had with cars.

            “Well okay then, let’s get started I guess.” Aaron climbed onto the boat and began to start on the engine. Maggie followed him and just sat down, knowing there’s nothing she could do. She didn’t know much about Aaron, but she had heard some things. She knew he wasn’t in school last year, and Maggie wasn’t the kind of girl to keep her mouth shut.

            “Where were you last year?” Maggie asked this abruptly, so it kind of startled Aaron. 

            “Um, it’s a long story, you don’t want to know,” he replied.

            “Yes, I do. Plus, it’s not like we don’t have time. We have to talk about something.” Aaron didn’t realize how persistent she would be until now.

            “My dad made me quit. It took a lot of convincing for him to let me come back for my senior year.”

            “Why did he make you quit? Did he, like, need your help running a drug ring?” Maggie was joking, but Aaron stayed silent and bowed his head. She suspected there was some truth to her words. “Oh my gosh, that was so insensitive, I didn’t actually know.”

            “Yeah, you didn’t know, it’s okay,” Aaron never thought that he’d be sitting here with Maggie Summers, the girl who had it all, about to tell her his most important secret ever. “I, uh, actually ran away from home. And him. I didn’t want to be apart of that anymore. I wanted to actually have some self respect, you know? I’ve been living in Tuck McAllister’s old barn. He’s been kind enough to let me stay there and shower when I need to. He’ll give me food and water too, so it’s not terrible.”

            Maggie was stunned. She had no idea. “That’s terrible, but I’m glad you don’t have to do any of that anymore. And your dad making you quit school, does not make him sound so good.”

            “Oh no, he’s not. He used to hit me too, until I got too big.” Maggie touched Aaron’s arm in an act of compassion, to let him know she felt for him. 

            “I’m so sorry, Aaron. If you ever need anything, just let me know and it’s no problem to get you something.”

            “Thanks, Maggie that means a lot to me. Just letting me talk about it helps, you know, just having a friend.” The two came back the next day to work on the boat, and an unexpected friendship started to blossom.

 

           

“Reaching for You”

By Mckenzie Perkins

 

I lay in bed dreading the day ahead. My cat, Darling, cuddles into my deep auburn curls, purring in delight. I try not to think of the day that is soon to come. My uneasiness about leaving my comfort and safety behind in my bedroom grows as the clock ticks by. The other side of the door holds the discomfort of my reality. 

My alarm blares, reminding me that it’s time to leave. I untangle Darling out of my hair and stretch my long, pale legs. I look in the mirror, seeing my deep green eyes above the dark circles. I’m dehydrated. I grab the full bottle off of my nightstand and chug it until it’s empty. Slowly, my eyesight is going white in spots. Standing there for a second, I regain my ability to see. I have to resist the urge to walk through the door wearing the sweats and t-shirt I slept in. I grab the bright clothes, pulling them over my head and wearing them to distract people from the way I feel. I lock the house door as I head out to my truck. The engine starts up, and the smell engulfs me. Her voice fills my head. 

"You’re so pretty," Tammi said. "I’m so glad to have you as my best friend." 

Tammi was my life. She would be the happiest person in the world, or so I thought. She never showed any sign of unhappiness. She would laugh at everything and be so sweet to even the meanest of people. No one ever would’ve been able to prepare me for what I would’ve found later that day. 

I pulled into her driveway, waiting for her. We had planned the most exciting day to spend together. I only waited around 10 minutes before I went into her house. When I stepped into the house, I never expected to find what I did. 

I inhaled slowly, wincing at the painful memory. I know how she must’ve felt now. It's funny how it seems like your life is perfect, but inside, it’s completely different. People always tell me it’s not my fault. I try to believe them, but I never saw the signs. I should’ve paid more attention. If I paid attention to her, she would be alive. 

"Hey, Mel! Get out of your car and let’s go." Sarah says someone is knocking on my window. She’s a great friend, but she’s like me—she doesn’t look for the signs. 

"I don’t want to be here," I say in response. "It’s a literal prison for kids."

"Quit being dramatic, Mel. We are going to have an amazing day, my love." She drags me alongside her as she continues about her life. Her problems with her boyfriend getting her the wrong color flower for their two-month anniversary. Just the usual teenage relationship problems I always try to tell if she needs help other than that, but she doesn’t have any other problems. Nothing else is wrong, but that’s how I felt about Tammi. Sarah could easily be hiding something, the same as me. I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but she never takes it seriously. Her boyfriend takes her away as I try to speak to her. I just sigh, turning around to face my best friend, Oliver.

"Melanie, are you okay?" hHe said. 

I don’t know how, but he always sees right through me. Maybe that’s what I want, but I feel like a burden when he asks. 

"Yes, Oliver.," I lie right through my teeth. He just gives me the "I know you’re lying" look. I smile and continue walking on. He knows I don’t like it when he pushes on subjects. I don’t want to worry him, so I keep my problems to myself. I know he cares, but I don’t bother. He’s the only person who’s ever cared about me truly, besides Tammi. I’ve only ever tried to open up to Sarah, but she didn’t even listen. The pain I felt at the moment couldn’t even be explained.

"Sarah, can I please talk to you about something?" I asked her as she sat across from me.

"Yes, of course. "You know you can talk to me about anything; I’ll always be there for you,." I smiled at her response. 

"So I’ve been strug--." 

"Wait, Mel. "Can I talk to you about a problem with me and James first?" sShe cut me off. I just nodded my head and forgot about what I was even going to say. 

Since then, I haven’t tried to open up to anyone about it. The fear of being rejected for wanting to talk about my struggles The day went by in a blur. Oliver asking me if I was okay about 10 times, Sarah complaining about useless things, and my mood getting worse. The whole week went by in the same way. The only difference is how bad my mood was. It increased every day. me holding in everything until I got home. Darling was crawling into my lap as I burst into tears. It hurts to keep everything in. It hurts to know that this is what Tammi feels like daily. It hurts to know that the day we were going to have a mental health day, she left me in this world. I keep repeating everything that hurts in my head. 

I make my way to the bathroom and turn the shower water on. I need the water to burn away these feelings. I step under the blistering water, feeling my skin turn red. I don’t feel any other differences. What else could I do? The fear of that question grows inside of me. Why would I even ask myself a question like that? Is this how Tammi felt? I don’t need to hurt myself to get rid of other pains. I need to talk to Oliver.

I call him, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s probably busy, I shouldn’t have even called him. I can deal with this by myself. My phone rings; it’s Oliver calling back. I need his help; I can’t do this on my own.

"Oliver, I need help. "I'm not okay." I cry into the phone. He sighs in relief, sounding as if he’s glad I called. I'm glad I reached out for his help. 

"I know Mel." I’ve been waiting for you to ask me. I would never have pushed, but I’ve known you need help. "You can’t lie to me." Oliver creates safety with his words. I know I need help. I can’t fight the fact of it. My biggest fear is allowing myself to get to the point Tammi was at. 

"What am I supposed to do, Oli?" I’m scared. "I've had really bad thoughts."

"You need to talk to your mother about this. I can only go as far as giving you advice, Mel. Your parents are the ones who can do something about this. Get a therapist or something."

I know he’s right, but I don’t want to accept it. I need to talk to my parents. He comforts me a little bit longer and gives me the motivation to talk to my mom. We hang up the phone as I sit on my bed, contemplating my decision. I push myself off of my bed gaining the courage.. I walk slowly to my parent's room and knock on their door. As they open the door, I walk in. My body was shaking; I was scared to tell them. 

"Mom, Dad. I need your help. "I'm not okay."

 

“Beautiful Angels”

By Ella Gibbs

 

It all began in a big church. My mother was standing on a podium at the front of the church crying as she was saying her eulogy for her dad, my grandfather, who was laying in an open casket right below her. I felt numb inside. The type of numbness that makes you want to cry, throw up, scream, and hit and kick things all at the same time. My mother decided to include a series of stories from grandad's life in her eulogy. She was telling all these stories and speaking to this big crowded church, which was apparently my family even though I have never seen half of them in my entire life. I didn’t care though because I was full of sorrow.

            My mother continued on and on until she finally came to a story about me and grandad. It was about the time he and I went fishing at the same pond he and mom used to go fish at. And then I felt a tear, a boiling, hot tear slide down my red cheeks slowly. I stared at the floor trying to keep my composure in the quiet church until I couldn’t anymore. I sobbed like a baby into my hands. I imagined my face was turning different shades of red, pink, purple, and blue from crying so intensely. My mother finally concluded her speech, and came back down from the podium to sit on the red and brown pew beside me and my father. I was still crying, but not as hard as before. I sat up in my seat as she sat beside me. She gave me a big hug, and about an hour later the funeral came to a close.

            It had been two weeks since his funeral and I still miss him more than ever. He was like my real father considering my actual father had always worked, and never made any time for me.  

“Astella!” yelled my mother from the kitchen,”I need you to get off the couch and get ready to go”

I groaned loudly,”Where are we going again?”

“Me, you ,and your father are going to settle the inheritance your grandad left for us and the rest of the family.”

I rolled off the couch and onto the floor thinking whether it would be a good idea to fake sickness or not. I really did not want to go. In fact, I felt like I couldn’t go or my body would shut off on me and I too would be dead. I sat up from the floor and ran my finger through my long, brown hair. 

“Hey, Astella, we're hitting the road in five.” I shot up and rushed to my bedroom to get ready and then I ran to the car.

            This place is so nice, I thought to myself as I walked into the large room where the inheritance meeting was supposed to take place. There was this big table in the center of the room that seated all fifteen members of my family that were to be joining us. I glanced up at the beautiful chandelier that dangled in the air above. My mother directed me to sit between her and Aunt May so I obeyed. I anxiously began to pick at my nails as the meeting began.

“Welcome everyone,” began the executor,”This will hopefully be a brief meeting so I will begin. Roger Herrington, your father has left you five-hundred thousand dollars and his car collection.” 

“Very well, what else did he leave for me and my family?” asked Uncle Roger concerned.

“Oh sir, that is all for you.” 

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that is all.” 

The executor looked slightly confused and alarmed at the same time. His eyebrows furrowed, and the wrinkles on his face showed. The executor continued on after that. Mother always said that Uncle Roger was an incredibly greedy man, and he lacked kindness and gratitude. Mother told me a while back she was surprised when he became engaged to Aunt Lauren because she thought a woman would have to be a fool to marry him. Then suddenly I heard a door slam and my focus quickly left my hands. Aunt Lauren and my cousins have just left, leaving only Aunt May, mother, father, the executor, and me alone in the room. I looked at Uncle Roger, and I might not have been paying any close attention most of the time, but you could obviously tell something was incredibly wrong. His face looked angry and disgusted. His body looked tensed up completely. 

“I can’t believe he left you his entire house!” screamed Uncle Roger across the room at Aunt May.

“Roger what is the matter with you? You need to calm down,” Aunt May was staring him down with narrowed eyes. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. 

“Oh shut up, May. You were always the favorite child, and you know I deserve every penny of the inheritance. Considering I am the one who runs dad’s business after he retired twenty years ago.”

“Quiet down Roger,” said my mother.

Uncle Roger shot up out of his seat. His wild eyes moved across the room and landed on Aunt May as he pulled out a small pistol. He aimed a gun right at her head.

“Roger, stop! Don’t shoot the gun. Please put it down on the table.” she said, trembling. Her face was as white as a newborn lamb. After two minutes of silence Uncle Roger finally sat back down in his chair. 

“This meeting has come to a close. Thank you everyone and have a good night.” said the executor. He rushed out of the room swiftly.

 We began to arise from the table and that is when I heard gun fire. I looked at the ground beside me and it was covered in blood. Uncle Roger had just shot Aunt May. I ran to her and put my arms around her attempting to find the spot in which she was bleeding from. Mom and dad followed. Mother and I ran our eyes up and down her bloody body trying to find the bullet hole. I heard another shot fire, but I didn’t pay any attention to the loud noise. Until I felt light headed and dizzy. I felt a burning in my chest. I collapsed to the floor. Mother and father turned to look, and mom started to wail and scream. It was a noise louder and worse than any gun shot I've ever heard. The room grew really dark and dim. I could hear screaming, and I could see people running around all over the place. I could barely lift my hand onto my chest. I shut my eyes as I felt people picking me up and running around me. I heard the sound of the sirens blaring louder and louder. It became harder and harder to breathe. The pain in my chest began to subside, and I opened my eyes again. I saw this beautiful, bright light getting closer and closer towards me. Until I was in the white light, and I could see everything clear again. 

            I gasped as I looked around the magnificent place. It was full of pearly, white clouds and there were gorgeous angels everywhere. That’s when I realized where I was, and I completely broke down in tears. I covered my eyes with my hands and I fell to the floor. I felt someone give me a hug. I looked up but my vision was too blurred to see anything clearly. I rubbed my eyes violently and peered ahead. It was my grandad.

 

“Bez the Boxer”

By Isaac Phinazee

It was a cold, snowy day in Detroit Michigan. Everyone in the city was buried in their house hoping to stay warm. Everyone except Bez. Bez was a world champion boxer and he had an important fight tomorrow. He knew if he did not practice today that his opponent, Jax, would beat him. Bez had fought Jax before and won, but he didn't want to take any chances. So Bez continued to train.

               Bez went to the gym one last time before his fight. Bez wasn't the biggest dude, but he made up for it with his strength. He could bench press 500 pounds and squat 750 pounds. After his 5 hour workout he went home to get rest for his big day tomorrow. He laid in bed and couldn't go to sleep because of how nervous he was. After hours of tossing and turning he finally was asleep.

            Beep, Beep, Beep. His alarm went off. It was 5 in the morning   and Bez shot out of bed due to the adrenaline flowing through him. He started his morning off with 100 push ups to get him up and running. Since he had a fight in a few hours he needed a good, healthy breakfast. He grabbed a pack of rice cakes and a head of lettuce to fuel him up for his fight. With energy in his system he hopped in his car to go to the arena where he would be fighting Jax.

            Bez arrived with time to spare. With this extra time before the fight, he warmed up. He did some push ups and he ran to get his mind off of the fight. Around when he was done the referee called him into his corner. Bez tapped gloves with Jax and the bell rang. The fight had started. Nothing much happened at the start of the fight. Both boxers were scared to make a move, but around 30 seconds in Bez went in. He threw one punch, and that was all that was needed. He knocked Jax out cold. Bez stood over him and celebrated and the crowd cheered. Bez didn't know what to do. He was frozen. Eventually his coaches came over and celebrated with him as he grabbed the championship belt.

            After he was done celebrating, Bez went to put some of his stuff into his car. As he approached the car he noticed someone or something leaning against the hood. As he got closer, he now knew it was a person that was sitting on his car. Bez was not happy because his car was a very expensive golden Bugatti. 

            “Ay. Get off my car.” said Bez

            “Bez you must not remember me.” the mystery man said

            “I don't care who you are. Your gonna get off my car or were gonna have a problem” Bez said

            “We already have a problem.” he said

“How could we have a problem if I have no clue who you are.”said Bez

            “Oh. You know who I am. My name is Buno. Remember me from highschool?” Buno asked

            “I thought you were in prison?” Bez asked

            “I was. I got out a few weeks ago.” Buno stated

            “So what's the problem?” Bez asked

            “I have spent the last 10 years of my life in prison watching my best friend live the life I should have been living, win the fights I should have fought, and wear the championship belt I should be wearing. So that's the problem.” said Buno

“It is not my fault you went to prison. This belt is rightfully mine. Unless you want to fight me for it.” Bez said jokingly 

            “That's why I came here. I’m challenging you to a fight and the winner gets the belt.” Buno said

             Bez’s heart dropped. He knew that Buno was always better than him at boxing before he was locked up, and he knew Buno had been training in prison. 

               “Ok. We will fight in one weeks time.” said Bez 

                Bez wanted to back out, but he knew he couldn’t. With no other words said Bez and Buno parted ways knowing they would see each other soon. 

                 Bez drove home contemplating what had just happened. This would be the biggest fight of his life, and he has to start training as soon as possible. He has one week to prepare for the biggest moment of his life. 

 

“Bedtime”

By Ava Herrington

 

A damp and dark dream, this one was. Why couldn’t I wake up? How did I know I was sleeping? I hid in the corner of the smoke-filled room. ‘Something’ rattled behind me. ‘Something’ got louder. ‘Something’ was coming. 

            I woke up, ‘something’ dripping down my pajama bottoms. 

            “That's kind-a embarrassing..” I rasped.

            “Not my new sheets! Those are white, Rufus!” My mom squealed, “Time for school, fix yourself up.”

            “Okay.” I shook, waiting for her to leave so she wouldnt see the scar on my leg. These dreams always seemed to actually be happening, except they werent. I had scars and bruises to prove it happened, but I always woke up in bed. Now I didnt care about much, such as homework, but this had really seemed to frighten me.

 I slipped my clothes on and pushed my glasses up between my eyes. I looked in the mirror and studied myself.

            “Wow, I'm never getting a girlfriend.” I laughed as I shrugged my shoulders and skipped out the door to the bus.

            Before I knew it, school was in session. I liked school now, it was a safe spot where I didnt have to worry about my dreams. Sadly, the more you like something, the quicker it's gone. School only seemed like a few minutes. I knew the dread was going to sleep –everything led to the ‘Something’ that had been haunting me. As I rode the bus back home, my hands quivered in pure terrific fear. Terror, you might call it.

            “Hey, you’ve been awfully quiet, how about coming to my house tonight. I also got Vesty coming.” A voice startled me. I swung my head back, it was Kieth.

            “Oh, sure. Will your sister be there?” I joked around. 

            “Yes, but she is locking herself in her room.”

            “Aw that's disappointing, how about your mom?”

As we kept talking I couldnt help but worry about my dreams. What if I wake up with another scar or start screaming in my sleep? These thoughts whirled through my brain as I rode.

            Once home, I gathered my things after asking my mom. My palms were sweating as I packed. Just have fun. Maybe I'm thinking about it too much. I shut my eyes and tried to take deep breaths just as I did when I had arrived. I knocked on the door. To my disappointment, it opened.

“Hey Mrs.Peggy, is Kieth ready for me yet?” My voice cracked. 

            “Oh yes, come in. He’s upstairs.” 

            “Thanks.” I stood there awkwardly for a second wondering if she would keep on talking. She didnt so I did the little arm swinging, spinning body, shuffle to the stairs and waved. I ran up the stairs nearly falling from embarrassment. 

            “Oh hey.” Kieth nodded at me. He was helping Vesty ride a hoverboard of some sort. 

            “Hey Rufus!” Vesty waved, leaning forwards. Crash. 

            “Hey.” I set my things down. Shutting the door behind me. We ran around and had a great time throughout the evening. The real problem was sleeping. We had made a pillow fort to sleep in that night and one by one we fell asleep. Me being the last.

            I “woke up” in a house of some sort. Everything seemed normal. I studied the walls, white. The floors, wooden. This wasnt bad at all. Was this a normal dream? My heart skipped a beat in happiness. That was until every president to ever exist barged through the front door. 

            “No, no, no, why…” I threw my head back and groaned. This was a weird dream. Very weird. Suddenly, I saw Vesty and Kieth out of nowhere. 

            “What is going on.” Vesty snorted, shaking George Washington’s hand.

            “I'm just dreaming.” I sighed. What if I somehow dragged them into this? My eyes flashed to Kieth. They seemed confused, so I must have actually dragged them into this. How is it possible to dream the same dream? “We have got to get out of here.”  I explained, grabbing their arms as I ran out the door. I halted, I had never seen such a thing. It was a cow wearing a suit. I ignored it and kept dragging my friends out into the street. The roads were purple and the grass was red. I hoped this was all in my head. When would the “Something” be coming?  As I raced down the road I began to panic. Then it hit me, if the “Something” was harming me in every dream… I just need to kill it. 

            “Stop! Are you crazy? What is going on?” Kieth’s scream cracked. 

            “You are dreaming, don’t worry.” I whispered. Hoping they would just go with it. 

            “Oh…? I hate when this happens,” Vesty sighed. “Let’s go up there!” He  got out of my grip and headed for some strange house made of balloon animals. I thought about leaving him, it was only a dream with him in it. Merely an illusion of my friend, yet something made me worry, what if we really were in the same dream? We raced after him, finding him in the strange, bouncy-house nightmare. He seemed to be out of it,  jumping up and down while playing a game of tag with us. 

            “Huhuhuh” He squealed and laughed in a nerd-like manner. Everytime he jumped his torso and arms seemed to stop working. This was far too odd to be him. Something has happened. Then I realized as he bounced out of sight. 

            “Vesty, No!” As me and Kieth rounded the corner we saw him. It was half-man, half-cow. He had Vesty in his arms. “You are the Something?” I gasped.

            “How amoosing this is,” he patted Vesty’s hair. “Fallen right into my trap.” 

            I bounced towards the cow-thing, ready to punch him. Out of nowhere a balloon animal was thrown at me, sending me into the side of the bouncy-house.

            “Hey, what's the big idea?” Kieth launched himself at the cow, but the cow managed to back up and use all the force he had to punch him. “My noOse.” He grabbed the bloody mass and screamed.

            “That wasn’t very nice of you.”  We all turned to see a shadowed figure holding a weapon of some sort. They stepped farther into the bouncy-house. It was Chad, from the gym.

            “Yeah it wasnt very nice.” A gorilla also stepped into the light. 

            “Not nice at all.” It was Kieth’s mom. 

The cow set Vesty down, backing up to the opposite side of the bouncy-house. “Lets not make this a fight when it doesnt have to be.” He ran out of the bouncy house, we all followed. “No. I'm sorry Dr. Capybara.” He screamed. A Capybara wearing a suit walked towards the cow, his two henchmen were apples wearing suits. 

            “It's time to pay for your crimes.” He said. “ You know it's against the law to injure people. We can only scare them.”

            “I didn’t injure them.” He pointed at me. I knew what I had to do. I jogged over as they argued, lifting up my shorts to show Dr. Capybara. The scar had not fully healed.

            “You liar.” He announced to the cow-man after he examined my leg. “Take this mutation away and convert him to his true cow form.” 

 

            “No, it was an accident.” He screamed as the apple henchmen dragged him into the car. 

            “Thank you, pleasure doing business with you.” Dr.Capybara nodded, “You can go back now.” He snapped his fingers in my face.

            I woke up in the fort, as I looked around I saw Vesty and Kieth also stir.

            “Weirdest dream” Vesty scratched his head.

            “Yeah same” Kieth stretched. 

            I wondered if we had the same dream, but then again, I didn’t. “What's for breakfast guys?”

           

“Secrets and Love”

By Elyce Potts

Jamie and I have been best friends ever since 9th grade, and as we have gotten older I have noticed that Jamie is getting more and more distanced from me. I know that she’s just been trying to make new friends since we’re in high school, but I feel left out. I’m afraid that she’s going to end up forgetting about me, and to make matters worse Jamie’s twin brother, Derek, and I have been together ever since 9th grade and Jamie doesn’t know.

When I was 15, my mom moved us to a small town on the coast of South Carolina. One of my mom’s old friends, Jessica, offered her a job since my parents were getting divorced. My mom was skeptical of the move at first since I was about to start high school. She was afraid I was going to be lonely since I didn’t know anyone. That was until she found out that Ms. Jessica had a daughter my age. My mom and I moved into our new house the month before school started, and that’s when I met Ms. Jessica and her daughter, Jamie. If I’m being completely honest, I didn’t like Jamie at all when we first met. Jamie was so happy and energetic all the time, and I didn’t know how I was going to deal with all that energy, but I did and we’re still friends three years later. 

I was super nervous about starting school in a new town and the only person I knew was Jamie, so I asked my mom if I could stay the night at Jamie’s and then ride to school with her in the morning. I couldn’t believe it but my mom actually said yes, so I went over to Jamie’s later that night and that’s when I met Derek. 

 

“Derek, we’re gonna have to tell her eventually. We can’t keep putting this off,” I said. “She’s gonna be mad at us, and I wanna be able to have fun at prom. With both of you.” 

Derek looked like he didn’t have a care in the world about what I said, but somehow he always knew exactly what to say to me.

 “You're overreacting, Jamie will be fine, as always. Obviously she’s gonna be mad as any sister or friend should be, but she won’t be mad unless she cares,” he said.

“I know. It’s just that the more I think about it, the more I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

“She’ll get over herself, but we’re gonna have to tell her sometime soon.”

“I agree. I think that we should tell her today when she gets home from practice.” Every time I think about telling Jamie that I’ve been dating her brother, I panic thinking that the best friend I have ever had is gonna hate me.

Derek looked at me like I was going insane and said, “I wasn’t expecting you to say that, but I’m ready to tell her when you are.”

            Derek and I just decided to watch a movie until Jamie got home since it would be a couple more hours. We decided to watch an old movie together, and as always we fell asleep right in the middle of it. Even when I first moved here and the three of us would watch movies together, we would all fall asleep everytime no matter what. The only problem was this time it wasn’t the three of us.

            “What in the world is going on here!,” Jamie yelled as she walked across Derek’s room towards the two of us.

            “Jamie, I can explain, this isn’t--” I pleaded.

            She cut me off mid sentence and said, “Explain what? The fact that you're here, or the fact that you’re sleeping with my brother!”

            I could tell Jamie was hurt, and this was definitely not how I wanted her to find out. Jamie never cried when she was mad, not even when her boyfriend broke up with her, but at that moment she had tears of anger rolling down her face. Seeing her mad like that made me feel terrible, and I could feel my face getting more red by the moment. I didn’t really know what to say or do, but I decided to try and explain myself. I finally calmed down enough to say, “Will you please just listen to me?”

            “Fine, but you better have a really good reason.”

            “Derek and I were gonna tell you today when you got home from practice. I promise you this is not how I meant for you to find out about us,” I said. “I can tell that you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you for it.”

            Jamie looked at me dead serious and said, “You're right. I don’t believe you, and I think that you should get out of my house before I say something I’m gonna regret.”

            I started to get up and leave, but Derek joined in and said, “Wait, don’t leave yet,” he turned to look at Jamie and added, “Jamie you and I both know if Cassy leaves right now everything is gonna be ten times worse.”

            Jamie turned to walk away from us and said, “If you won’t let her leave, then I will,” right before the door closed I heard her say, “I’m not mad that the two of you are dating, but I’m mad at you, Cassy, for keeping this from me. If you would have just told me that you and Derek liked each other, I would’ve been completely fine with it.”

            Before I could say anything she shut the door and walked away. I turned to Derek and I intended on saying something but all I could do was cry. No matter what I did the tears just kept rolling down my face. Derek stood up to give me a hug and comfort me but instead I said, “I'm gonna go home. I can’t be here right now.”

            “Jamie will get over herself in no time. Just wait until school on Monday and she’ll be back to normal.”

            “Ok, but will you please talk to her over the weekend? She probably won’t listen to you, but it's worth a shot.”

            “I’ll talk to her. Just go home and I’ll see you on Monday.”

            “Thank you so much. I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

            When I saw Jamie for the first time Monday morning, she looked expressionless. Like everything that happened Friday was just gone from her memory.  I pulled her away from her other friends for a second so we could talk. I didn’t have a clue what to say to her. I couldn’t tell if she was mad or not,  and me being my dumb self I asked, “Are you still mad at me or are we good?”

            “Obviously, I’m still mad, but like I said. If you would have just told me, I wouldn’t have even been mad.”

            “I know, and I’m still really sorry I didn’t tell you. I was just scared that you were going to leave me for your other friends.”

            “I would never do that no matter what. All of those girls are fake and would stab me in the back any chance that they got.”

            “That makes me feel alot better. I thought you were going to completely cut me off.”

The warning bell rang, and in a hurried voice Jamie said, “Ok, so now that all of that is settled, I have to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.”

            “Ok, I’ll talk to you later,” I yelled down the hallway. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that I no longer have the weight of that secret on my shoulders.

 

“The Hippos”

By Cadyn Wilson

            “Please no!” she was screaming over and over again as Eathan was trying to push her out of the helicopter. Charlotte fought him for what felt like forever before her grip let loose and she started her plummet to the ground. Eathan, now quite tired from the fight that Charlotte put up, rolled back into the helicopter glad that now she was out of his way forever. Charlotte and Eathan have been competitors their whole life. They both grew up as wealthy only children waiting to inherit their fathers’ businesses. Even though their fathers were competitors in the market, they still managed to be no less than acquaintances, but this friendliness did not carry on to their children.

       Charlotte knew she was going to die as she was falling. The only way to survive was to land in water, but there was only one problem. The helicopter was flying in the middle of the Savannah. She closed her eyes as she didn’t want to see where she was going nor how close she was to hitting the rock hard dirt of the savannah. To her surprise she was met with the soft and cold swish of water, she opened her eyes thinking that she had died but instead she was met with the murky brown of a watering hole.

        Charlotte spent a lot of her time in the savannah as a child due to her fascination with the animals. Because of her knowledge she knew there was a good possibility crocodiles were in the water. Charlotte made quick work getting out of the murky sludge of water only to find a bloat of hippos going to get a drink and cool off. She knew that hippos were very territorial so she made sure to keep her distance. Charlotte figured that it would be days before anyone other than Eathan knew she was gone, so she started towards some boulders she thought she could use for shelter when she heard a noise behind her. Charlotte, fearing the worst, slowly turned her head to try and get a glimpse of what was following her. To her surprise there was a baby hippo that was curious about her. Charlotte looked around expecting her mother to be running over to get her baby, but when she looked over to the bloat of hippos they were all watching her peacefully. It reassured Charlotte to see the hippos so calm about her being so close. When she finally made it to the boulders, she looked for a pit to hide her from the savannah. Once she found a decent place to sleep she went to collect some things to make a bed. Charlotte , with her hand full of supplies, started making the bed for the night. It took her a long time to figure out how to make anything with the leaves and grass. The sun was already setting by the time she made her makeshift bed. She walked down to the watering hole, exhausted from struggling so long, to get a drink of water. It wasn’t the cleanest water she had ever seen, but it was all she had, so she was going to have to make do. She was sitting watching the sunset thinking about all of the choices she and others made to have her sit alone in the middle of the savannah with no food, no clean water, nothing. Charlotte sat there for hours until the sun was almost completely gone, warning her that the night predators were soon approaching. She got herself up and walked over to her bed under the boulders to find the bloat of hippos all curled up together a few feet away from where she was going to be sleeping. Because of how calm their demeanor hasd been all day, she decided it would be fine to sleep so close to them. A few of the hippos looked up as Charlotte was tip-toeing past them, but it didn’t seem to bother them. She finally laid down on her grass bed and turned to where she was looking outside from the rock. With the little sunlight that was left, she watched the hippos, noticing that there were six hippos, five adults and one baby. Charlotte felt a sense of safety considering that there was a bloat of hippos between her and the rest of the savannah. It took Charlotte hours to fall asleep, tossing and turning, wondering if she was ever going to make it out of the savannah. 

          When she woke up the next morning she felt something laying next to her. At first she was scared thinking it was going to be something like a snake, but she looked down to see the little baby hippo curled up next to her sound asleep. It wasn't much longer until the hippos started to wake up and go back down to the watering hole. The baby hippo took a little longer to wake, but when she did finally get up she acted like she wanted to play. Even though she was getting comfortable with the hippos, she couldn’t help but worry how long she was going to be stuck there. She resolved to sit up and play with the little hippo, which didn't last long because Charlotte was running out of energy. She barely ate before she got on the helicopter and hasn't had anything except for muddy water since. She decided to go down to the watering hole to get a drink and be with the rest of the hippos. The hippos just stayed in or at the edge of the water all day so Charlotte didn't have to worry about walking around much. She was starting to get worried  about the food problem as the sun was going down again closing the second day with her stuck in the savannah all alone. There was barely any sunlight left when she heard a rumbling sound. She figured it was just thunder in the distance but then she realized that it wasn't stopping. She started to get her hopes up, thinking that it was going to be someone to save her, so she went to the nearest trees and got the two biggest leaves she could find. By the time she got back to the water the plane was almost overhead. Charlotte was yelling, swinging the leaves back and forth with all of her might. Just when she thought they were too far and her chance of being found was over, they turned around. She couldn't believe that she was finally getting saved, that this wasn't going to be the place that she was going to die. It took the plane a little while to land as the terrain was rough. But when it did her dad jumped out and hugged her and said to her,”Thank God, we thought you died in the helicopter crash too.”

“Burdens on Her Back”

By Sheyla Morales

 

            Yelena wavered through the rushing waters, each step almost dragging her down. On one arm, she carried a basket filled with any canned food she could find, blankets, different assortments of cloth, and a small knife with twine tied around the wooden handle. In her other hand, she clutched a large stick which she used to maneuver through the wild and unforgiving river. On her back, wrapped in a large piece of cloth securely tied around her waist, Yelena carried her baby.

The last few months of Yelena’s life seemed to be a punishment from Satan for whatever wrong she hadn’t done. She remembered times where life wasn’t necessarily better, but they were simpler. Yelena remembered watching the people in her village who had nothing, just like herself, and wondering why they all seemed better off than her. What did they have that she didn’t? She didn’t know it at the time, but they weren’t better off than her. Each and every home in the village had a secret of their own that made their lives just as miserable as Yelena’s. Whether it was a sick child, an abusive father, or in Yelena’s home, David, a husband who would go through bottles and bottles of whatever liquor he could afford. His ways poisoned Yelena and their little girl. The alcohol drained Yelena’s money, her patience, her tears, and her daughter’s only chance at having a father. 

Yelena often spent her afternoons wondering if this was really the life she wanted for them. When she studied her reflection in the muddy waters, she saw what other people saw. She saw a young mother with a young girl and a hardworking husband. She saw a strong woman with no fears. But, Yelena also saw what others did not see. Most importantly, she saw the mangled and damaged state of her heart. No one in the entire world knew how difficult it was for her inside her house of deception. David spent his mornings, afternoons, and evenings degrading Yelena as she fought to shield her daughter from the heartache, and shoving whatever dignity she had left into his pockets. However, she didn’t see it that way. As a mother, it was a way of keeping her only reason to live safe and absorbing all of the pain before her daughter ever got a chance to realize there was any pain to be absorbed at all. For this very reason, Yelena decided she needed to run.

She took nothing but a basket of supplies, the clothes on her back, and Naomi, her smiling little girl. She hiked through the valleys, her worn shoes leaving blisters on her feet. She traveled under the burning rays of the sun as she sheltered Naomi’s soft head with the pieces of cloth in her basket. Yelena’s dark hair absorbed the sun and almost seemed to smoke. Naomi couldn’t yet speak, so at times, Yelena spoke to her even though she knew she wouldn’t get any more than a gurgle or a giggle in response. It was Yelena’s way of not feeling alone.

“It’ll be ok, baby. We’ll get to the other side of those mountains soon and we’ll be free. No matter how long this may take, I’ll get you there,” Yelena explained as she followed the mountains in the far distance.

Back in the village, it only took a few hours for David to realize he was alone in the house. He finally got what was inevitably coming for him, and he was infuriated. In response to Yelena’s escape, he assembled a group of  three men who owed him favors. 

“Bring them back any way you can. Do not let them leave or you will all pay,” he demanded from the group. 

Instead of going out with the men to look for his wife and child, he stayed in the village and did the only thing he knew well. He drank until he could no longer stand or speak. While his goons were out looking for his family with little to no boundaries or instructions, he stayed in his bed and failed his duties to his family as a husband and father once again. 

Yelena persevered and continuously conquered any hill or river in her way. With Naomi on her back, the warmth and little kicks she felt from behind were what kept Yelena moving. Naturally, Naomi would get fussy and cry often the more they ventured. Yelena soothed her with old lullabies and kisses on the cheek. It hurt Yelena’s heart to see her baby cry, but they were so close to the end. They were halfway past the side of the mountain when a stampede was heard from far behind. After hours of nothing but the sounds of her own feet making contact with the leaves and dirt below, Yelena knew this was not a good sign. She ran as fast as her legs would go and hid Naomi in between thick layers of brush. She set the basket down next to Naomi, leaving everything behind as she cautiously made her way towards the stampede, leaving everything but the knife. 

The three men unmounted their horses and approached the wary Yelena. With each step she took towards the men, she felt the cold metal of the knife against her skin.

“What do you want? I’m not from around here and I don’t have anything if you’ve come to loot,” said Yelena, firmly holding her ground.

“We don't want to hurt you, Yelena. We were sent for you and the baby and you need to come with us willingly, or we’ll have to resort to methods we don’t want to use on such a fragile girl like yourself,” mocked the smaller of the men.

The mention of Naomi sent rage shivering down her spine. After everything that Yelena had done for her child, she wasn’t going to let anybody stand in the way of their freedom. The atmosphere shifted and Yelena’s goal changed from reasoning with the men, to doing everything in her power to stop them from taking Naomi back. 

“Go back the way you came while you still can,” she dared. 

The men smirked at each other and began closing in on Yelena. The smaller of the men was closest to her and the sickening smile on his face sent her over the edge. With that, she revealed the knife from under the waistband of her skirt and she swung. She swung with so much force that she heard the knife as it cut through the air and through the man’s stomach. The man stumbled backwards and fell into the river, being swept along the rapid waters. She wasted no time and used the shock the other two men felt to her advantage. She charged at the taller man and pushed him with the full weight of her body into the same river the other man had met his fate in. He wasn’t ready for her as he went backwards with a yell, begging the one man left standing to help him. Instead of charging at the final man, she made sure he was looking as she showed off the small knife doused in the first man’s blood. As she had hoped, instead of the final man attacking her, he jumped onto his horse nearby and fled. 

Yelena had emerged victorious and she had no doubts that her ex-husband would think again before sending buffoons after her again. An angry man like David was dangerous, but an angry mother like Yelena was the most dangerous. A cry from Naomi was heard in the distance and Yelena’s heart filled with relief. She and Naomi were now safe and the freedom she had dreamed of for themselves was on the horizon.

 

“Journey Through the Unknown”

By Bo Yearty

 

“What is that,” asked JJ. BB and Izack were on the other side of the boat as JJ called them over. They took a look at what he was talking about, it looked to be a giant storm, Carson was down in the boat, grabbing a fishing pole, unaware of the storm, when it really started to hit. The thunder was as loud as an army of guns going off in their ear and rain hitting their boat so hard it was as if there were bowling balls falling from the sky. They started to sway back and forth and rock from side to side. BB was trying to keep the ship steady while the other 3 were trying to brace themselves. 

“Hang on!” yelled BB when there was nothing else to do, he had lost all control of the boat.

“This is not good,” said Carson. This was the last thing they all heard before the boat turned over and started to break into pieces.

The storm drifted them far away, they were all unconscious when the storm passed, but by some miracle, they were relaxed on top of pieces from the boat that kept them afloat. All of them were there, except Carson. Right now they had to forget about him, BB and Izach  had not suffered badly except for a few cuts, but JJ’s story was different. He had terrible pains in his legs; he was crushed from two parts of the boat colliding together. BB had to put him on a piece of wood and all they could try to do was find land and they started a slow journey to find land so they had a chance of survival.

            “You see anything yet?” cried JJ. “ I can't feel anything.”

            “No, I don't know where we are or if there is anywhere for miles,” BB said

He continued to paddle for a couple more hours. “I don't know how much longer I can go for.” 

            “What's over there?”

            “ It looks like a beach” said Izach

They swam as fast as they could to go to what seemed to be a beach, but when they got there, it was all sand for miles, there were no people. Houses, or nothing.

            “ We need food” said JJ

            “ Take a look, there isn't nothing around here” 

            “We need to move, we can't stay here for long, there is no food, or clean water”

So, they took the journey to try and find something they could get to drink or eat. They went walking for a couple more hours till Izack spotted something, “ look over there.”

            “ Are those sand huts ?”

            “That's what it looks like to me,” said JJ

            “ We need to check this out.”

They took a slow walk over there and there were houses that looked like people lived there, but there were no other souls. But the crazy thing was that there were beds and chests, with food that looked fresh, there were piles of hay and even a well. They even found a blacksmith looking place that had a couple of knives, swords, and other tools which they grabbed. The group agreed to stay the night. 

They woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, except JJ. He could not move, his legs were crushed and even the slightest turn left him in pain. All They could do was try to remove it. Izach wrapped a string around his leg and BB dug a knife down to the crushed bone. He quickly Sewed it back together with string and a needle they found.

They stayed one more night till they went looking for anything they could find. They walked for hours on end rationing the little food they had left from the village. 

“ Dude, look over there,” said BB. He had found a beautiful little place that they wanted to make camp. JJ went off to plant some of the seed they got from the village, and BB made a little hut. They needed food till the crops grew, so JJ took a knife and went hunting. 

It was a slow next couple of days, each day getting a little easier on the three. They had gotten a reliable food source from the farm, and BB started working on a house they could safely stay in. 

They were still thinking about where Carson could have gone. While they were laying in their beds, JJ spoke out,” we should go find him”

“ We don't know much about where we are right now, no way we will be able to find him even if he is still alive” Said Izach.

            “ It will be very difficult, but it is the right thing to do”

            “So we start our journey in the morning , agreed?”

            “Agreed,” said BB and Izach, before heading to bed not prepared for what tomorrow brings.

            The next morning Jay got up at the crack of dawn, he grabbed everything they needed for the journey ahead. BB and Izach got up and they started on the long walk ahead of them.

            They had been walking for a while, passing jungles and many more interesting places. They have not seen anything that could lead them to Carson and thought about trying to head back, till they saw something. “You see that,” BB said very excitingly

            “ I do, do you know what it is,” asked JJ

            “ It looks like a foot print, and it's from a human,” Izach added. “ This must mean that he has been here, we're getting closer.”

            They continued following more and more footsteps, swinging their swords through all the briers in their way. They went on for a couple more hours having only signs of footsteps, until they came across something interesting.

            “Is that what it looks like,” said BB.

            “I do think it is,” JJ said. “ It is a small house but it is very run down and half built, could Carson have started a house then left before it is finished.”

            There were no signs of him still being there so they headed off in that same direction. They felt as if they were getting closer to something, They saw more and more signs of life including footprints, plants that the fruit was grabbed, and limbs broken down. 

            All of a sudden Izach panically called them over. “Look over there, It's a house and it looks like it has people in there.”

            “We need a closer look.”

They then inched closer till BB pointed something out,”That looks like Carson's hat.”

“ They must have taken it from him, they could have captured him or even killed him.”

Suddenly they were spotted.

            “Grab your swords, there are enemies,” called a voice from the house.

            “ What do we do,” Asked JJ, who was in a huge panic.

            “The only thing we can do if we want to survive, we need to fight back and get Carson to safety.”

            The three jumped over there, drawing their swords in defense. They were about to run full force at each other till they heard a man call from inside.

            “ Yall stop,” they heard the voice being yelled from inside.

            A dude ran out of the building and he looked very familiar to BB ,JJ , and Izach. That is because they knew who the man was, it was Carson.

            “What are you doing, these people are not safe, come with us and we can get you out of here alive.”

            “ Guys, these are good people, they found me and brought me here. They fed and gave me new clothes.”

            “So they are not enemies,”JJ asked

            “No,” replied Carson. “ They are actually really nice, they even gave me a name.”

            “ What is that,” asked BB

            “They call me Big Biscuits.”

“The Rush”

By Jonathan Howell

 

“No, I’m not helping you,” I said, “I gave that life up a long time ago.”

“Jacob, you have to help us. We can’t pull this off without you,” responded Jared.

            I turn around and put my back to him as I finish organizing the objects on my shelf. I pull a picture of me with my wife, Charlotte, and twin daughters, Isabella and Sophia, and a picture of my wife and I on our wedding day, and put them on the shelf.

            “Look, I have kids now,” I said as I turn back around to face him, “I just can’t risk going to jail, and leaving them all alone.”

            “If you help us, we’ll be in and out of there in no time.”

I was about tell him to get lost and find someone else to help him when I heard my wife pulling the car into the garage. Jared and I look at each other, instantly knowing that we have to change the subject fast. I head out to the car to help my wife with the kids.

            “Daddy!” yelled my daughters in excitement.

            “Isabella, Sophia!” I yell back as my kids run into my arms, “How was your day today?”

            “It was so much fun,” Sophia said.

            “Yeah, we learned how to count money,” Isabella continued, “And our teacher read us If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.”

            “Guess who came over for a visit?” I asked them.

            “Santa Claus?” Isabella asked.

            “No, why would Santa Claus be here?” I asked, “It’s the middle of spring.”

“Hey girls,” Jared said while coming around the corner of the door.

“Uncle Jared!” my daughters yelled as they run to give him a hug.

“Isabella, what’s that behind your ear?” Jard said, “Well, what do you know. You had a dollar behind your ear.”

“Uncle Jared, is there something behind my ear?” Sophia asked.

“Well, I don’t see anything. Wait, you know I do see something,” he said while pulling another dollar out of Sophia’s ear.

“Okay girls, go take your stuff inside while Daddy and I take in the groceries,” my wife said.

“I need to get going,” Jared told us, “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, but I really need to get home.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Charlotte said, “Thanks for stopping by.”

“No problem,” Jared leaned leaned closer to me as he whispered in my ear, “Just think about it. When you change your mind, my team and I are meeting in our old spot.”

           

I lay in my bed, next to my sleeping wife, thinking about what Jared had said. I gave up that life because I wanted to have a family, but as the years have gone by, I’ve started to miss it more and more. The thrill, the adrenaline rush, and trying to get in and out as fast as possible. I’ve missed it which is crazy to think because I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m tempted to bite the apple, and I can’t resist. Besides, this isn’t even the hardest heist we’ve ever pulled off together.

            The next morning, I kiss my wife and kids goodbye and tell them that I’m going to work. Instead, I go to the meeting spot to tell Jared he was right and I did change my mind. As I drive there I start second guessing this decision, but I keep telling myself that this is an amateur heist and we’d be in and out in five minutes. As I pull into the garage of the warehouse, and see Jared’s face with a big grin, I know that there’s no turning back now. I exit my car and enter the warehouse, where I see Jared and four other people. I walk up to Jared, and he begins to tell me about the plan. Which is when I realize I was wrong, and this might not be “just a five minute heist.”

 

            As we’re all sitting in the van going over the plan one more time, I tell Jared that he needs to keep his cool, so there isn’t a repeat as last time. After he tells me he will, I put on my hat and sunglasses, and make my way to the entrance. I enter the bank, and I start to feel that rush of adrenaline crashing through my veins like I felt so long ago. I go stand in one of the lines and wait until it’s my turn. After what feels like thousands of years, I make it to the front, pull a bandanna over my face, and hand the teller a note saying that I have a gun, and to put all the money in bags. She looks back up in a state of fear which tells me she got the message. I head back towards the door and motion Jared and the rest of the group, Lawrence, Owen, Scott, and Sean, inside. They all enter the building with guns and ski masks.

            Jared aims his gun in the air and shoots once, “This is a robbery! Everyone get on the ground now!” He points at me and motions me to head to the vault. He then points at Owen and Scott, “You two go with him.”

            We all quickly move towards the vault, and I immediately get to work. I almost have it open when I hear the last noise I ever wanted to hear. Police sirens.

            Owen, Scott, and I all run out to the lobby just as the police enter the building.

            “All of you drop your guns, get on the ground, and put your hands behind your back!” one of the cops yells.

            All of us drop our weapons, but Jared does something absolutely stupid. He grabs a hostage and aims a gun to her temple.

            “Back off!” Jared yelled at the police officer, “Take one more step and I’ll blow her brains out!”

            “Let her go Jared,” I look behind me and Lawrence is aiming a gun at Jared while holding out a badge.

            I look over at Jared again, and realize his face is getting red. I remember this face from the last robbery we did before I quit.

            “Jared! No!” I yell trying to stop him from making this mistake, and he glances at me, realizing that there’s no way out.

            Jared shoves the lady to the ground, and turns to face Lawrence. He aims his gun at Lawrence and starts to shoot, but he’s too slow. I hear the echo of a gunshot move through the entire building as I watch my best friend fall to the ground.

            I get on the ground as one of the cops handcuffs me.

            “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law,” one of the cops begins, but his voice fades out as my vision is filled with my friend lying in a pool of his own blood.

 

            Now I open my eyes every morning to the exact same barren cell, missing my family and friends. I dream of that day at the bank with Jared every night, the vision of my best friend lying there lifeless. I can no longer remember his smile or his laugh, but that image is forever engrained in my head. I can only imagine what my wife and kids must feel, but she’s filed for divorce. I wish I could tell them why I did it, but the truth is I’m not even sure myself. Sometimes, late at night, when I’m all alone, I think about what life would be like if I hadn’t agreed to help Jared. If I didn’t long for that rush of adrenaline, one last time.

 

“The Princess Pumpkin’s”

By Claira Lynch

 

     “I'm done! I just can’t do it anymore. I tried. I really did, but I miss you,” I said, pleading for her to understand. “ Why did you leave me?” 

     “ Please, don’t be mad at Dad. He’s dealing with it in his own way. And, anyway, he tried even when I pushed him away,” I said. You couldn't blame him. For the last eight months, he tried every single move in the dad playbook to help me: a therapist, moving, him being there for me, and getting me stuff. And, yet, it still wasn't enough to cover up for the loss of the one person who truly understood me, my mother. It hadn’t crushed him in the same way it had crushed me. “ I loved you, I did and still do. That’s why it’s finally come to this. This is my last hour,” I said in an air of finality. 

     I glanced at the world around me, knowing nothing I’d see could stop me. Everything on the horizon seemed to voice this truth. I had nothing, no one, worth living for. The leafless tree stood lonely, so did I. The leaves naturally had abandoned the trees as nature had intended them to as nature had forced us to do. The clouds had abducted the bright rays of sunshine, in the same way the grim reaper had stolen you from me, and yet it seemed, now, to be peaceful.  The last sliver of sand in my hourglass was now long gone. Everything was sleeping, and I soon would be too. My eyes shut one final time as I lept, then there was nothing. 

     The clouds peacefully surrounded me while the music harmonized with it, and there he was. Perfectly, imperfect. I was where every person wished to be… at peace. Then, I heard it.

     “Beep… beep… beep!” the truck screamed. 

    Listening to the sound momentarily, it soon became too close not to react. Losing all those peaceful fantasies, I begrudgingly opened my eyes.

     “Ahhhhhhhhh!”I screamed in horror and lurched away from the looming truck hoping it would see or hear me, or that I could get away in the nick of time. Inches away from me, with no  prayer of escaping, I prepared myself for the searing pain to soon follow, but there was nothing. Sure enough, the truck ran right through me as if I were nothing, and I felt as if I were nothing and felt nothing. Trying to remember what had happened, I remembered being the new girl at the new school in the middle of the school year, and somehow I was here, a speed bump, in the middle of the street.     

     Sitting up, I saw where I was and immediately  felt joy surrounding my refuge. Hundreds of memories, like wild dandelions,  began to sprout back up, until I remembered the why behind the sudden departure. That one unforgettable memory snuffed out any joy that I had. Like a fire with no oxygen, suffocating all the joy that once had walked down the jubilant streets with me. 

     Walking down memory lane, I saw my mother in everything. To my left was the library where she would take me to work with her, and to my right was the restaurant where dad and her met. Reminiscing made me do an irrational thing. I walked to the last place I had seen her, the library. Her never not being in the library when I checked, made me believe, for just a couple seconds, that she would be there. I grabbed the handle and yanked on the door, but instead of grabbing the handle my hand just passed through it. Thinking or waiting required time, which I didn’t have to waste, so I hesitatingly passed through. And, there she was in her usual place. Reading happily, contentedly, lively. I walked closer not actually believing what I was seeing. As I drew closer, I noticed that she was a little older than before. Her sparkling eyes were now more gray, her confident shoulders were slumped, and her bright smile was dimmer, but it was still her. The mother, who had taught me how to read and let me do her makeup, was sitting there in front of me. 

     “Mom!” I yelled, but soon realized that she couldn’t hear me, and that’s when I heard her!

     “Mommy, can you read me this book?” she asked with her big pleading brown eyes. 

     “Of course, princess pumpkin,” she said happily. 

     Princess pumpkin, what a funny thing to say. The funny thing is that’s my nickname, and that book was my book. I couldn't understand what was going on.

     “Robert, please come here,” Mother said. 

      Expecting to see my father Robert, I turned around, but instead saw a stranger. 

     “Let’s go home, I’ve finished my work. Lizzie time to go home,” she said plainly. 

     Lizzie? Why would she call this girl Lizzie? That was my name. I, now, had all the pieces of the puzzle and so, it clicked. My mom, if that’s what she is, never really did die; she simply, and probably easily, faked her death. I don’t know why or how she did it, but she did. And, as far as I could tell, I would forever be stuck here, in a place with no one to talk to.  Having to see her and her happy family grow old together for decades seemed too hard a cross to bear. She was happy and moved on, but I could never forgive her. How could she move on when she ruined my life? I only hoped my dad would find the truth, or was it better for him not to, for him to just move on as he had told me to. If only I had listened to him, I wouldn’t be here.  I was burdened with all these thoughts, for a very very long time.