Illusions Can Become Reality

Illusions Can Become Reality

by Justin Vargas

As I wake up to the smell of my mom’s breakfast—specifically eggs and bacon—the thought of half my family passing away hasn’t left my mind. It was mind-boggling to me, knowing that death is a part of life. My chest felt cold and empty, knowing I’m slowly but surely noticing everyone leaving me in Earth life and going to the after life. I finally get up and refresh myself by showering and brushing my teeth. I hurry up and sit at the table and I seemingly analyze my mom. In the middle of me chewing on my pancakes I question her.

“Mommy why is everyone dying?”

She responded instantly, “Eat your food so you don’t show up late to school.”

Time flies and I’m in school and thinking of my mom getting so hesitant about the question I asked hasn’t left my head. I try to fight it out, but nothing is working. Sooner or later it’s time for me to go home. I see my mom with a bright smile on her face excited to see me. I run to her as fast as I can and give her a big hug.

“Your cousin Riley is coming over today. Are you excited?” she asked. I immediately jump up and get hyper. Me and Riley haven’t seen each other in years. We pull into the driveway and I see Riley there waiting for me at the door. We both make eye contact and know what time it is. I jump out of the car, grab Riley and take him inside with me. As we’re in the middle of making TikToks, Riley stops me and says, “Give me a sec. I have to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” I say.

I sit there rewatching the videos we made and hear a dark, loud, painful scream from downstairs.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

I take flight downstairs so fast you would’ve thought I was a track star. I look at my mom and she is covered with dark red coloring. She stares at me with a blank face.

“Mom, what did you do?”

“Ugh, the Kool Aid spilled all over me. Now I have to wash clothes again. Oh and go check on Riley.”

I think to myself, “Did my mom just kill Riley? That can’t be true, she would never do that.”

“Whew, that was close.”

I ignore it and just go to try to find Riley. Thirty minutes go by and no sign of him. How could this be? Riley would never just disappear. I begin to tear up, eventually crying. Riley was like my brother. We did everything together when we met. He was the peanut butter to my jelly, the ham to my sandwich, the bread to my bacon, egg and cheese. How could this happen to me? The closet pushes open with the breeze airing out into the room.

“Riley?”

I notice a shoe that belonged to him. I pick it up and examine it. His blood was on the bottom of the shoe. I drop the shoe and run downstairs to my mom and yell.

“YOU KILLED RILEY! I HATE YOU!”

“WAIT, WHAT? I WOULD NEVER HURT ANYONE!”

I open the door and run, being led to Neverland. It’s 8:30 and I’m sitting at the park lonely with no one to call or talk to. Dad? Gone. Grandma? Gone. Uncle? Gone. Aunt? Gone. And lastly, Riley? Gone.

I feel alone. Like a kid on the first day of school. Like a stray cat with no owner. Who do I call? Who should I call? Is it even worth it? I want to give up. The wind blows hard, nearly yanking the trees off the ground. My head is telling me this is a sign by the universe, but what could it be saying? The wind continues to blow. I inhale and exhale and get a lightbulb. Save yourself. I sneak inside the house and try not to make a peep. I catch my mom on the couch crying with tissues everywhere. Is she sick or was she crying? Part of me feels bad, but I can’t tolerate someone who maliciously kills people. I enter my room, close the door and lock it. The closet door opens again. The windows are closed.

“Hello?” I say.

I notice a bright beaming light bleed through the clothes. I slowly walk towards the closet in fear of a random man in my closet. I peel my clothes out of the way and see a blank room. So I walk forward and forward some more, hoping I meet an end.

“Hello. We know you’re here, child.”

Is that Grandma? My heart beats faster and faster causing me to faint. I wake up to my grandma, dad, aunt, uncle, and best friend sitting in a chair.

“Save yourself, Steven.”

“Save yourself, Steven.”

“Save yourself, Steven.”

I look around and everyone is saying it repeatedly.

“Wha- wha- what are guys talking about?”

“Steven, you have to get out of there now and defeat your mother or else you will live this life forever without us.”

“Well, well, well. I see you’ve been snooping around, kid,” my mom says with a suspenseful voice.

“GET OUT OF HERE, STEVEN!” they all yell.

I run faster than The Flash himself. I grab the phone and hide under my mom’s bed. I can hear my mom’s heels walk up and down the hallway.

“Steven. Steeeeeven. Where are you? I just want to play. Come on out and play with me. STEVEN!” *BANG!* she bangs on the wall.

You would think it was the thunder outside. The sounds of hair tap on the window as my mom opens the door.

“Hmmm, where can he be . . . in the CLOSET?! Nope. Is he UNDER THE BED?! Ding ding ding. GET OVER HERE, YOU BRAT!” She lifts the entire bed.

I run out and kick her in the leg and dial 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“HELP! MY MOM IS TRYING TO KILL ME!” I yell.

“Kid, if you’re pranking-calling, it’s not going to work.”

“THERE YOU ARE! I SHALL FEED ON YOUR SOUL! HAHAAAAA!!!”

“Awww, do you guys hear this? The kid and his mom are playing hide and seek.”

“PLEASE, HELP ME!”

“How old are you, son?”

“13. I’m 13 years old.”

“You meddling kids don’t know better these days. Do some homework and live life properly.” *hangs up the phone*

“GAHHHHH!”

I feel three light taps on my shoulder. I turn around slowly with a shook face.

“Any last words, little man?”

“AHHHH!” *Gasps* wait *looks around* everything is normal what the—

“Hey, cuzzo, wanna go get ice cream?” Riley asks.

“Wha- wha- wha- RILEY, YOU’RE ALIVE!!!!”

“Of course I’m alive, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Hey, Steven, hurry up, we’re gonna go get ice cream,” says my mom.

“Aunty, can you believe he thought I was dead?”

“The kid probably just had a bad dream. Leave him alone.”

I stare in shock and look at my mom. We both just have a staring contest. She tilts her head to the right as she steps into the room and shuts the door.

“M-m-m-mom what are you doing?” I say in fear.

Her head spins around three times. You can hear the cracks in her neck. It was cringey, like nails on a chalkboard. She jumps on top of me and chokes me and yells.

“YOU KNOW TOO MUCH, KID.”

AHHHH— *cuts off scream*

Dear Humans

by Keyarra Williams

Dear Humans,

I’m writing this hoping that once my time has finally run out, you find this and believe that there are more of my kind. My name is Milly . . . Milly Perish. I was born in 1853 and, yes, I am a vampire. I know, trust me, I know. But I am real and there are more just like me hiding. The story behind my becoming a vampire is more magical than one could possibly understand, but I’m willing to share my story.

In spring of 1873, I was at my happiest, or so I thought. I had a new best friend who I was learning so much about. My parents were happy, my siblings were growing, and then I met him. This strange man by the name of Bryce Fills who seemed so sad and alone just grasped onto me, and I felt the connection grow stronger and stronger with time. He told me everything he felt was important for me to know, such things like he was a vampire but one who controls his urges to feed. I believed him, he had a way of convincing. I began to adore him and trusted him with everything. My mistake. One day, I remember it was raining rather aggressively. My best friend Alice and I were running home and we came across him just standing there as if he were waiting. He told me, “Leave everything you know behind and come with me.” I told him I could do no such thing and that made him furious. He was so upset in a way I never seen before. He then said to me, “I guess I will have to just let you outlive them in order for us to be together happily.” And before I knew it, he bit me! Yes, he bit me, this man who I trusted and confided in bit me.

I woke up to my best friend hovering over me staring at me in awe. “No . . . no . . . no . . . how are you here, Milly? I watched him snap your neck. What’s going on?” As she continued to babble on, my mind was racing, my stomach was growling, my body felt different, and I knew he had turned me.

“No he didn’t. He wouldn’t do that to me. He knows what I am,” I whispered to myself. “I can’t be both . . . no.” Alice was just as confused as I was because, believe it or not, we both were witches. So

when she saw what Bryce had done to me, she didn’t expect me to be alive after.

I could still feel my magic in my system, which I didn’t understand being that I was not fully trained. “Alice . . . ALICE . . . hand me that candle please!” She handed me the candle still just as baffled as I was, and she watched me concentrate and light the candle with magic.

“How? You died, Milly . . . I watched you die, how are you still a witch?” she asked me.

I looked at her and grabbed her arm, “I don’t know.” My palm grew red the longer I touched her and Alice got weaker every second my hand was on her skin almost as if I was siphoning her powers to combine with mine. We learned about heretics and how rare they are, but Alice knew that I had become way more powerful than the ancient siphon heretics.

“How did you do that?” my innocent best friend asked me, still confused about my transition.

I was confused myself, “You’re asking me questions I don’t have the answer to . . . we need to talk to your mother. She would understand.” Alice’s mother had experience with heretics in her younger days. She fell for one who ended up being Alice’s father but, shortly after, he abandoned them both. We ran to her mother’s home trying to be discreet as possible.

“Hello, my love I made,” she started.

“Mom, listen, I think Milly is a heretic. I don’t know . . . I think she’s more than that . . . or less . . . I don’t know. Milly, show her what you did,” Alice ambushed her mother with everything that happened before I even opened my mouth. Her mother nodded, taking everything in. She let me grab her. My palm, again, got red as my powers mixed with hers, becoming more powerful than ever. The lights began to flicker and the candles all began to light up. I knew that I had just become the most feared witch or vampire or heretic whatever it is, I was . . . I knew there had to be more like me.

“Milly, my love, you most definitely are a heretic but not one I’ve ever dealt with. I need to see just how strong your powers really are.” My mind was racing, so I stepped out for air. I needed a long break. Despite everything that I was figuring out about my newly transitioned body, I couldn’t stop thinking about Bryce and how angry I was by what he had done to me. Just my luck, there he was in front of me. All the anger I had, all the things I wanted to say . . . just didn’t. Complete

and utter silence.

“Milly, please understand. I turned you for us,” he pleaded to me. But I just couldn’t wrap my head around how selfish he was . . . that’s where my anger struck.

“You’re selfish, Bryce.” I hit him. I hit him so hard he literally bounced back. “You didn’t think about what I wanted, or how I felt, or if I wanted to spend eternity with you.” I hit him again and siphoned his vampire magic out of him, making him extremely weak. “I’ll move on, but I will not forgive you.” I went to hit him again, but I felt that anger turning into rage. I didn’t want my powers taking over me. I knew with our magical mystical lives we would cross paths again. Hopefully it would be different . . . no, hopefully I would be different and less angry. I decided to walk away. Alice, on the other hand, was not so forgiving of Bryce. She watched as I siphoned off of him, and she told me that she wanted what I had. She wanted to make people hurt, but the rage that I felt was unmatched. I was stronger than just a vampire. I was stronger than a witch. I was stronger than everything. And my magic body would cause many issues in the future. It’s like I could see my future. I knew everything that was going to happen in my lifetimes. I didn’t want Alice to go through that feeling because I saw her future as well—one of my new power perks I was not very fond of.

Well, I’m afraid I’m ready for my time to end now. Just remember, there are more of me . . . I made sure of that. I live on in every siphon heretic there is. They all know the story of the original Milly Perish, and now you do too . . . .just the shorter, less violent version.

Sincerely, The strongest Milly

Acknowledgements

In our Young Writers Publish program, 826NYC works with classes of students and teachers on creative writing projects around and beyond New York City. Ninth and tenth grade students from Academy for Young Writers explored science fiction and magical realism this spring to produce the incredibly imaginative tales in this book. I Told You Not to Buy a Robot & Other Stories is a compilation of the original work of these students.

A huge thank you to our 826NYC teaching artist, Vanessa Friedman, for creating a virtual classroom where students were able to explore different texts and experiment with different styles of writing. Your support, encouragement, and consistency helped our young writers tap into their imaginations and memories to produce such moving work, and your care in helping them brainstorm, write, and revise each week was invaluable.

We are particularly grateful to Jaclyn Reyes and Lucia Brockway for their support of this project. Thank you for inviting us into your classroom and facilitating such a smooth collaboration. Your hard work, warmth, and steadfast dedication to your students allows them to flourish as young writers and thinkers.

Thank you to our asynchronous readers who provided mentorship and cheerleading throughout the creative process: Abbey Chase, Mary Durocher, Nick Eliopulos, Erin Rose Elliot, Susan Evans, David Ewalt, Zack Fine, Amber Hunter, Aimee Lam, Ashley Paul, Holly Settoon, Kristin VanDiest, and Richard Zhang.

At 826NYC we depend on the dedicated volunteer editing and design cohort that make our publications a reality. Thank you to Harriet Provine for designing such a beautiful book for our students. To copy editors and proofreaders Chelsea Bonollo, Sydney Bradley, Krys Giang, Dena Levitz, Nicholas Martinez, Tiana Moe, Marianna Nash, and Emily Stout for their careful attention to each of the student’s pieces, thank you.

A big thank you to The Jane Friedman Anspach Family Foundation, The Hawkins Foundation, The Rona Jaffe Foundation,

The Kettering Foundation, The Minerva Foundation, The Pinkerton Foundation, and The Resnick Family Foundation, the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council, and the National Endowment for the Arts, for their generous support, which allows us to publish our students’ work. The program is also made possible by the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew M. Cuomo and the New York State Legislature.

Thank you especially to the 826NYC staff for their behind-thescenes support of this project, from curriculum development and the book-making process to volunteer recruitment.

Finally, thank you to the students at Academy for Young Writers for taking risks with your writing and sharing your words with us. Writing can be a challenging and hopefully fun process, and your dedication to your craft and your stories shines through in these pieces. We are all excited to see what books you’ll produce in the future!

826NYC Location And Leadership

826NYC and The Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. 372 Fifth Ave Brooklyn, NY 11215 718.499.9884 www.826nyc.org

Staff

Joshua Mandelbaum, Executive Director Naomi Solomon, Director of Education Nico Garbaccio, Volunteer and Programs Manager Corey Ruzicano, Programs Coordinator Summer Medina, Community Engagement Strategist Jesusdaniel Barba, Programs Coordinator Julianna Lee Marino, Programs Coordinator Lauren Everett, Communication & Fundraising Coordinator Chris Eckert, Store Manager

Board Of Directors

Michelle McGovern, President Ted Wolff, Vice President Ray Carpenter, Treasurer Kathryn Yontef, Secretary Michael Colagiovanni Jen D’Ambroise Liza Demby Jamal Edwards Amir Mokari Arjun Nagappan Tammy Oler Katie Schwab Danielle Sinay Andrew Sparkler Alyson Stone Maura Tierney Thom Unterburger

826NYC Programs

Write After School

Reading and writing go together like peanut butter and jelly. Write After School students work alongside 826NYC staff and volunteers to build their reading, writing, social-emotional skills and unleash their imagination as they play and learn about the power of language. Three times a year, students revise their creative writing for publications that are printed in English and Spanish and shared with families, volunteers, and community members at celebratory readings.

Write Away Workshops

Young writers come together in Write Away Workshops to explore a multitude of genres and subjects and to develop their voices. Groups write freely and participate in imaginative writing activities and lessons. Whether it’s a song, a piece of climate justice sci-fi, or a nature guide, young writers leave the workshop with a piece to be proud of, as well as a newfound understanding of the topic, and new friends.

Young Writers Publish

Turn your classroom into a creative writing lab. During Young Writers Publish residencies, 826NYC teaching artists collaborate with educators on creative, impactful, curriculum-aligned projects that transform students into published authors. Residencies run from six weeks to a full year, depending on the project. Each Young Writers Publish culminates in a book, newspaper, zine, podcast, film, or performance featuring your students.

Write Together

826NYC hosts classes across New York City for Write Together: an interactive writing experience that encourages creative expression, explores the elements of storytelling, and strengthens writing skills. Elementary-aged classes collaborate on illustrated children’s books, middle schoolers choose their own adventure, and high schoolers learn the art of memoir writing during a fast- paced and whimsical 90 minute narrative program.

Teen Writers Collective

Teens are the next generation of literary leaders. That’s why we launched the Teen Writers’ Collective. The collective brings together young writers from around the city to explore the art of writing and literary citizenship. They’ll create a community of passionate and creative peers, serve as 826NYC youth leaders, and inspire younger students and peers across the network.

Student Publications

Through our programs, our volunteers work with students to help them create stories, poems, and ’zines. Because we believe that the quality of students’ work is greatly enhanced when they are given the chance to share it with an authentic audience, we are committed to publishing student works. By encouraging their work and by guiding them through the process of publication, we make abundantly clear that their ideas are valued.