Heaven Melnykowycz, Age 12 Heaven, age 12, lives in Michigan. In addition to writing, she enjoys singing (a little too loud), biking, and is reading (and loving) Keeper of the Lost Cities. She would like to live in a world where no one lives in a war zone and everybody can go to a great school.
The Missing Teacher and the Would You Rather Kids Chapter 1: The Kids It was an especially foggy day in a small neighborhood where seven kids swatted away mosquitoes, grumbling to themselves about why Coco had dragged them out here. She sat on a fallen willow. She had below shoulder black hair and hazel eyes with warm light brown skin. There were seven kids, ages eleven to fourteen, with mixed expressions: some obviously glaring, some smiling, and some looking antsy to go inside to the two level houses. She watched them. Then, starting, she pulled out a crumpled piece of lined paper and started to read in the loudest voice possible, “YOU ARE ALL GATHERED HERE BECAUSE,” then she lowered her voice, not wanting the parents to know what she had heard, “Our parents are in the middle of a very mysterious mystery, and I’m in the middle of trying to figure it out.” “BUT I KNOW HOW YOU’RE ALL GOING CRAZY BORED IN YOUR HOUSE. WE STILL HAVE TWO MONTHS ‘TILL SCHOOL. THE CHALLENGES WILL BE SHORT, BUT BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY—” “Coco, please stop yelling. I can hear my pug from three blocks away whining because you’re talking too loud!” Alea shouted. For a second it seemed like Coco didn’t hear her as she said, “AND YOU WILL REMEMBER THIS SUMMER ‘TILL YOU OLD AND HAVE A CHEAP CANE.” Then Coco paused, wrinkled her nose, and looked over to Alea, “You KNOW you did not need to bring Via (the pug) into this, but I hear you. I just want to project. All day people have ignored me,” she said, crossing her arms. “But while our parents are doing their very ‘special project’ . . .” Clementine, a sassy twelve year old, popped her hand on hip, raised an eyebrow and said, “You’ve already failed at the not bored part.” Coco side-eyed her and popped her one hand on her hip, but did not retaliate. Turning back to the small crowd of kids, she asked, “Raise your fingers from one-ten showing how brave you are.” All the kids fidgeted as they raised their hand, glancing around, not wanting to not seem brave, but nervous at where this was going. They’d been part of Coco’s crazy plans and it happened to end without a toilet lid, water splashed on the floor, and parents screaming a very selective vocabulary of swear words. Still, all the kids raised their hands, ten fingers showing. “Good, you’re going to need to be for the trials.” “What trials?” Clementine asked. A tinge of interest crept into her sassy tone. Coco grinned. “A dare: would you rather.” As Coco explained the rules, she listed them. She added some as the group of kids peeked over her shoulder: The dares must be anonymous, only picked from a jar without looking. If needed, Coco will blindfold you. The dares must be safe (A.K.A. nobody gets sick or hurt). If a problem happens, the game will shut down. THE PARENTS CANNOT KNOW. More rules coming soo—Coco and the amazing group Chapter 2: The Adults A plastic spatula was flung into the living room of Zola’s two story house. A chorus of adult voices rose as Zola’s voice, normally calm, cut through the house. “If you ruined my wall with your nasty scrambled eggs, I’ll make you clean my house for a month.” A murmured apology filtered through the kitchen. “I know you’re sorry. It’s just this . . . darn internet. I know mine is the best but it’s still bad.” “Can I go run to my house to go get the yearbooks from preschool to college?” WRITING A NEW WORLD | SUMMER 2021
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