Dolphin tales pdf

Editors BettyAnn Lauria Maureen Powers Liz Petruzzi Gabrielle Gomez Carlos Morales Patricia Butcher

Carol Woodbury

Assisted Principals

Superintendent

Paul Funk Jen Govoni

Ken Jenks

Leila Maxwell

Principal

Tony Morrison

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Six Word Stories

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Poetry

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Persuasive Essays

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Memoirs

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Short Stories

With bloody hands, she said "goodbye."

Alexia Rotundi

9/10, skyscrapers standing.

9/11, pile of rubble.

Alicia Hayes

She cries because he doesn’t remember.

Avery Nardone

Snow is falling. It's winter already.

Brianna Kelley

Sorry, shirts have one head hole.

Jack Ahearn

She’s six-feet under at sixteen.

Madison Medeiros

Ball is thrown; pitcher walks off.

Matt Smith

He went to feed the bear.

Raymond Antonitis

I'm too good for 6 words!

Sara Abrahamson

I trusted you; I was wrong.

Shelby Dunn

I liked the old you better.

Shelby Dunn

Poetry messy room

Adrienne Tardif Laundry covers the floor I should get to hanging those pictures where are my shoes?

I wish I could get to the door tags and receipts scattered about these socks have been here for days underneath piles of papers I am never getting to.

If my mom walked in she would absolutely shout Half my bed is reserved for my books I think a lotion exploded in the corner the floor must be eating my hair elastics nothing has been hung on hooks this will take days to clean however those days are not foreseen

Hourglass Alexa Morea I expected you to be there.

I was counting the seconds, minutes, hours as they went by.

It was bitterly cold but you didn't show a sign.

I grew more impatient as time went by.

You weren't going to, you never did, You always leave me waiting.

Waiting in the sunshine or in the pouring rain.

You keep me waiting, waiting patiently.

I am tired of waiting.

I want to say something, but I'll just keep waiting; Waiting for you to notice me.

Before You Met Me Alexia Rotondi

Before you met me, I pretended to be a mermaid at the beach. I built the tallest sand castles towering over my head and threw Cheetos to the noisy seagulls.

Before you met me, I was daddy's little girl, at the mall running to catch up with him and holding on to his hand.

But sadly you know, The girl with straightened, silky hair. The girl who doesn't believe in mermaids. The girl who lies and tans at the beach. The girl with a died off imagination.

I want you to know the real me. The girl who's stuck inside. The girl with the huge imagination and the girl with the wildest dreams.

Haiku Alicia Hayes It's getting darker, The doors are closing slowly, Please, just let me in?

I am getting scared.

The end is getting closer.

I'm afraid of death.

It's getting colder, My cheeks are turning bright pink, Snowflakes blanket earth.

Seasons Carly Coughlin The leaves turn red.

The grass turns brown.

All autumn colors spread throughout town.

Leaf piles are raked.

Getting cold is the weather.

As a breeze fills the air we’re all putting on sweaters.

And soon snow is falling.

There’s Christmas around, carols are sung, not a frown to be found.

As presents are opened, kids smile with joy, as they unwrap their gifts of clothes, food and toys.

Soon after it’s spring, you can see flower buds, the rain is so constant forming puddles and mud.

And lastly it’s summer, with a roasting hot sun, between beaches and sleeping, it’s a whole lot of fun.

The Race Carly Coughlin

The gun goes off

So I continue to push,

The race has begun

Past another few girls

The last time this happened

My legs are flying

the other team won.

And my brain is a whirl.

But we know that won’t happen

It’s chaos and madness

No, no again

The crowd’s loud as can be,

For during this race

As I sprint by,

It’s our team that’ll win.

I hear them cheering for me.

My arms pump with strength

And for the last leg

And my legs are a blur

Of this long, intense race

All I can think

I let all the speed go,

“Get in front of her”

Feel the wind on my face.

For when I reach the finish

And as I cross the finish line,

I want to have won

I smile with glee,

It’ll feel great to breathe again

In this cross country race,

When I’m done.

We’ve reached victory.

Though my mind is my enemy And my legs burn with pain There is so much pride And joy we can gain.

Poems by

Erin Isaacs

Black lives do matter And there are no excuses Black lives do matter.

Inspire

Inspiration is a big word, it can create good or bad people.

But what others don't understand, there doesn't have to be a sequel So I'll give you this, and you can take it as you'd likesince to find inspiration is so hard to do I'd rather just sit here and try to inspire you.

Poems

by Hanna Blake

That little pink bow Pink bow Sitting there City sidewalk

That moment There she sits Wishing To meet her true love Until she looks up...

Sunset That one sunset Laying itself across the sky Painting a memorable picture That will stay in my mind

Beauty Beauty comes in many different colors, shapes and sizes, everything and everyone has their own beauty.

Show it off!

Where?

You’re out there somewhere.. Just where?

You've Changed Your name in my phone has changed, my feelings for you have changed, but the thing that won't change is what you have done to me.

Jessica Aguiar I am usually the girl who is the loudest, the girl that usually talks the most, that interrupts the teacher while speaking, the students while learning, I am that girl.

Just not today. Today I’ve been slightly quiet, a lot of things on my mind. Not knowing what to say. I feel pain. I feel sadness. Just wanting it all to go away. I’m not sure why I feel like this, but I know it’ll go away. This is how I feel today.

Kelly-Ann O’Neill you learn from the past don’t take your life for granted live in the present

Death Shelby Dunn Healthy colorful Next day pale white something wrong Sorry you are gone

Resignation Julia Silva

Is it not good enough for you to know that I have given my all?

Silent stares and broken chairs, No soft touch or caress of the cheek can reclaim the contempt in your thoughtful voice.

I, too, have calculated the consequences of your actions.

I will not strike the hand that feeds me, yet it has struck me down.

The venom I misconceived as nourishment has left me.

Each twinge of hunger a revival of my will to be whole.

I have reached the point of no return.

My back is sore from carrying the heavy sacks of sand, better known as your expectations.

Each one, each grain, petrified and easy to lose track of.

I apologize that giving my all has not been enough.

Vitamin Sea Madison Pawlina

Walk the beach, you see more than shells, the sea You see the sky, and a world of existence and animation Creature’s hearts beat just as ours do, in rhythm Step by step we walk on a whole society of another kind Where the population consists of creatures who absorb the sun And cannot survive without the alluring sea In and out waves give fascination and life To all those who cannot survive without vitamin sea.

Now You See Me Patricia Butcher Do you see me Open your eyes I'm right in front of you Do you hear me I'm calling for you Why don't you answer me Can't you see me Can't you hear me I am lying on the floor at your feet I am six feet under You don't care Why You told me you cared You lied Why did you leave me like this Now that I'm dead can you hear me Now that I'm dead can you see me Do you even care Do you see me now Of course you do People say I was always like this Wrong This started when I met you You taught me to love You taught me to live Because of you I fell Because of you I'm dead

You never saw what was underneath You saw make-up not heart You are the reason the knife cut my skin Do you hear me now Do you see me now Now you hear me Now You see me

Translocation Sanket Bhagat I wake one morning and hear the news, “Son, we are going to Cape Cod”, I get confused, you must be telling me a fraud, The time has called for a transcontinental relocation, I hit the snooze.

The atmosphere will go from desert to snow, The temperature will sway to-and-fro, But I can manage, Or at least I hope, otherwise I will be packing my luggage.

I pack my things and say goodbye to my home, I take in the scent and realize that someone else will be paying the rent, It’s been a good decade and a half, 10 years from now, I will remember all the happy memories and have a laugh.

5 More Months Sean McNamara

The nostalgia I feel for the summer’s so strong I can’t wait for those long and fun days Earn money at work from some tips and the check Then kick back and catch the sun’s rays School will be gone and with it the stress I can almost feel June ‘round the bend I’ll laugh all day long and my biggest care will be hoping this season won’t end The days are long but just seem to fly by This summer’s sure to be swell I can’t imagine all the fun to be had Before 7:22, that first bell Sports, friends, and work sure I’ll be busy But you won’t hear complaints out of me ‘Cause although things are hectic it sure has to beat Talking my way out of a C

Eraser Shavings Shelby Martins Those pesky pink shavings that seem to always be in the way.

Your fingers flick them to the floor without a second thought.

But those little shavings were once your first thought.

A thought that was so important you just had to write it down.

Then a new idea came to replace that important thought.

And now you have eraser shavings, a thought long forgotten, on the floor.

Those eraser shavings will get stuck to someone’s shoe. and now that broken thought, will inspire someone new.

Fifteen Patricia Butcher

One minute You stare at her empty seat She's in the cafeteria Or so you think Two minutes Still not here She's coming down the hall But not today Three minutes She skips down the hall With her same smile and laugh That smile is gone now Four minutes Waves to her favorite teacher Saying his name loudly as she passes by You don’t hear it.

Five minutes Marked absent Pull out your phone She texted you.

You were a great friend She said Then you remember last week When you saw her wrist.

Six minutes Now you’re worried You stand up out of your seat Running down the hall.

Seven minutes Turn key Put in drive Off school grounds.

Eight minutes Main Street Turn left.

Now right.

Nine minutes On her street The driveway Parked car.

Ten minutes Spare key Open door Close it behind you.

In her room Bleeding out She’s dying Save her.

Eleven minutes 9-1-1 Address Try to stop the bleeding.

Twelve minutes On their way Call parents Her mother is crying.

Thirteen minutes In her hand There’s a note Your name is on it.

Fourteen minutes Ambulance arrives She’s in their care now Hop in the back with her.

Fifteen You knew her for fifteen years And then She was gone in fifteen minutes.

Standardized Tests: Too Emphasized?

Carly Coughlin

A bright teenage high school student walks slowly into the testing building, anxiety mounting with each step. Though she has aced every class with flying colors since freshman year, the way teachers talk about the SATs make her confidence consistently decrease as the time nears.

Nowadays, way too much emphasis is placed on standardized tests, such as state tests, SATs, and ACTs. This causes harmful effects, such as stress, the effects of immense pressure, and the bad luck a single day can bring.

One example of the overwhelming anxiety and heavy emphasis that these incredibly important tests bring is the fact that many people perform worse academically when under a ton of pressure. If a student gets the impression that failure will mean extreme consequences, then high-level stress may short-circuit their brains and keep them from focusing mainly on the test. This negatively impacts their test scores, the outcome the nervous student was originally fearing. I remember the day my older brother took the SATs, and the serious nervous state it put him into before and during the test.

Next, though these tests are supposed to judge your academic level and potential success in college, they can be your enemies if you are simply having a bad day. Whether it is an important sporting event approaching, a family situation, or a sick day, some kids are unlucky enough to have other problems nagging them on test day. Once again, a kind of scenario like this would lead to disastrous test results and an uncertain future.

Finally, the greatest problem of all involving these heavily emphasized standardized tests is the massive effects they can have on your entire future. If any of the previously stated problems

do occur on your testing day, there are no second chances. Your terrible test scores are viewed by colleges, who then pass you by without another glance, impacting your future college education, followed by your distant career, which then could decide the rest of your life. For one single test score, that's an incredibly large number of dependent outcomes.

Overall, between the effects they have on your future and the incredible nerves they can cause, too much emphasis is placed on standardized tests such as state tests, SATs, and ACTs.

The Worst of Texting and Driving Erin Isaacs

Cell phone use while texting and driving has an unpredictable outcome. Drivers on their phones can be alive one minute and gone the next. The other operators behind the wheel not on their phones are in danger as well, because of the possible chance of there being someone else checking their device. Many believe changing the radio station is hazardous; how about checking your phone? Someone needs to put a stop to texting for the safety of the future generations.

Texting is a main reason wrecks occur while driving. Not only is the driver distracted by the phone, they're distracted by the conversation. Do you think it would feel good to be the one communicating with the driver at the time of the wreck? Clearly, the operator of the vehicle decided to go ahead and answer, but the burden you have to carry on your shoulders for the rest of your time is very heavy. Texting and driving jeopardizes one’s well -being as well as other drivers on the road.

The focus of laws on texting and driving are mainly on the messaging apps, but what about all of the social media that 80% of the country uses? Not only are you communicating with one person but millions more, most unknown. They are much more addictive then messaging, and most teens can’t keep their eyes off a cell phone screen. People of all ages join social media every day, and more and more people lose focus on the road. Precautions could be taken on the internet so your device could be disabled, depending on what speed you are going.

Finally, fatal damage can occur by just looking at your phone, no matter what you're doing on it. By doing this your mental and physical reaction will be delayed and cause possibly lethal outcomes. A pedestrian crossing the street could be hit and killed. A car taking that right turn could be smashed, all because you looked down at your phone. We need to take note now to improve the future for generations to come.

Texting and driving has taken a large unpredictable toll on recent generations’ lives across the country. If we take precautions now, we can save lives later.

How Disney is Starving Itself Molly Scanlan The holiday season has passed, and Disney princess merchandise was at the top of the wish list of many a young girl. Unfortunately, as of last year, the Disney princess lineup has expanded to include two new royals whose eyes are bigger than their wrists.

Literally.

The Disney princesses set beauty standards for women, since they have dominated the playing field of role models for young girls since 1937. From a very young age, there are widespread expectations of female beauty, grace, and health that these characters exemplify. And, while it’s not objectionable to celebrate the healthy bodies and the pretty faces we wish to emulate, it can cast aside those who do not fit into that mold. Girls are learning how to put down fellow girls at an age where they don’t know how to tie their shoes. Girls are uncomfortable in their own bodies before they fully understand their bodies.

While the Disney princess lineup now accommodates princesses of different ethnicities, the diversity in their body structure is still lacking. Disney’s only group where you can reliably find variations in body shapes for women is the villainesses. This serves a dual purpose—while it contrasts Ariel’s beauty with Ursula’s lesser-recognized beauty, for example, it also teaches that those with an ugly outside generally have an ugly inside.

Ursula, in many ways, is a victim of circumstance, because she lives in a world with such strict beauty expectations. She has to have a nice voice, a beautiful body, and a pretty face. She has to try but not too hard. She has to care about her appearance but not be shallow. Curves are necessary, but only the right ones, and don’t forget that while she must be thin, she cannot be too thin, because that’s unnatural. And none of this matters unless she has a sparkling personality (though if she’s too nice, she’s probably fake); after all, as

shown by the lovely lineup of beautiful bombshells, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?

Well, the same expectations apply to the little girl on the other side of that TV screen.

Society allows role models for young girls to be thin under the pretense of motivating the girls to be healthy; why should we celebrate overweight and underweight bodies when we have growing obesity rates and soaring eating disorder statistics? Society pushes for ideal body shapes because if all of the young girls could look like princesses, then there would be no reason for any of them to be insecure.

So, why do we choose to have princesses whose eyes are bigger than their wrists?

We’re setting these poor girls up for failure.

If body shapes were really being addressed, we’d have princesses with a little extra around the waist when they stuff chocolate in their mouths every day.

Instead, Disney is producing increasingly skinnier princesses, ignoring the girls who starve and vomit and cry because they don’t look like those animations, no matter how hard they try. And this is the frustrating part—Disney is both starving itself by making unreasonably thin characters, and starving itself of the opportunity to produce generations of strong, confident young women who are princesses in their own right. And while they might seem like little girls right now, they can recognize patterns well; if they are not pretty, then they cannot be the heroine and, if they are not the heroine, then what are they?

But we can break that pattern. If we teach empathy to our girls to combat the body images that Disney is producing, and if we, as women, stop trying to tear each other apart and put each other down based on looks, personality, and weight, then we can counteract how Disney is starving itself. All we can do to fight back is to produce more tolerant girls so that they don’t feel the need to compare.

I’d like to live in a world where we can celebrate marginalized, self-conscious octopus witches clad in drag; a world where Cinderella can have cankles and still be a hero, and a world where little girls can aspire to be realistically- sized princesses, happily ever after.

Cell Phones Should Not be Used While Operating a Motor Vehicle Victoria Liu A lot of people these days have cars, but even more have cell phones. Those both are very useful inventions we use in our lives, but aren't meant to be used at the same time. Cell phones shouldn't be used while driving a car. Many things can happen due to using both at the same time- such as car crashes, and putting others and yourself in danger.

Having a car and phone can be super cool, but using both at the same time can have consequences, such as getting into major accidents. While on your phone, you could get a text message, but while checking it, you might not watch out for anything else, and could crash into a tree, run a red light, or hit a car or person. There are many possibilities if hitting or wrecking someone or something, but you can actually kill yourself as well. There are thousands of people killed in car accidents every year. You are putting yourself and others in a lot of danger that your misuse of the cell phone causes.

Almost everyone texts, and if you have an important text that comes and you check it, that's a couple of seconds not paying attention, which can distract a driver and affect the way he or she drives. Distractions are bad and can lead to accidents for the driver. Another reason they get distracted are by phone calls. You can get into a very heated argument with someone and distract yourself from the road and driving. When you are talking to someone you aren't paying attention; something bad can happen. People can get hurt or die when they don't pay attention to the road.

Finally, the last reason as to why phones should not be used while operating a motor vehicle is because you put everyone else's life in danger. You put the other passengers in danger by handling something else that's not the vehicle. You put the other drivers in danger because you have a risk of crashing into them by not paying attention. That also goes for the other people walking on the sidewalk or crossing the street. You risk more people than you think when not paying attention and getting distracted by your cell phone.

So those are the three reasons as to why you shouldn't use a cell phone when you are operating a motor vehicle-- the accidents that can occur when driving and using your cell phone, getting distracted, and putting others in danger by not paying attention. If the use is important to you, wait until you are at your destination, or whenever you can pull over. Cell phones and cars weren't made to be used at the same time, so don't do it!

Texting and Driving Alexia Rotondi Today, most people text and drive on the roads. One minute you could be texting LOL and OMG and the next minute everything goes blank. I know it can be tempting to text and drive, but your life and the drivers surrounding you are more important than a text! Here are many reasons why you should not text and drive: One, in the year 2011, 23% of auto collisions involved cell phones. This means 23% of the car accidents that happened in the United States have been caused by texting or talking on cellphones! That is 1.3 million car crashes! Imagine? As the years go by, that number will increase.

An article on Google explained how every year 3,546 people die from crashes involved with texting. The rest survive, but end up with life- changing injuries. For example a man lost his daughter to a car accident. Are you tempted to stop texting now? If not, here's another reason why you shouldn't text and drive: The second reason why it's not good to text and drive is because it doesn't take too long before you get into a crash. On average it takes only about 5 seconds to look off the road and get into a collision.

When you’re traveling at 55 mph, that takes about 5 seconds to drive down a football field! How safe do you think that is? For example, it's like driving a car down a full- length football field with your eyes closed, but with a bunch of people on the field. What do you think would happen? I know for sure that you would hit a bunch of people. Just like on a highway, if you are traveling in a car and you look down for five seconds, you will hit a car, just like you would hit a person on that football field. I hope you are tempted to stop texting now! But I do have one more interesting fact about why it’s horrible to text and drive.

When you text and drive, you have to pay the price... literally.

Don't think that you don't have to; the ticket price ranges from $20 to $10,000 for a first time offender. If you don't have the type of money to pay that, then I suggest that you don't text and drive, because if you get caught, there's no turning back. The police check

your phone to see when was the last time you texted someone. So you cannot get away with this!! I really hope you take this seriously by now, because I know I would want to be spending that type of money on something else other than a ticket for texting and driving.

In conclusion, those three facts state strongly why you definitely should not text and drive! While the option of talking on cellphones is considered safer than hands-on texting while driving, any solution other than simply turning the phone off includes a certain amount of distraction and risk. But while you’re driving down the road, LOL could very well be your last neologism. So please, stop texting and driving!

You and I Chante’ Preston

If I could only tell you how I feel. I didn't know how to say it so I'm going to do it in a way I'm most comfortable with— writing!

I'll be the girl who holds your hand in the hallway, be the girl you're proud to call your girlfriend. We can have the memories of laughs, smiles, and happiness together. You can be my good-morning and good-night. Tell me I'm your forever so I can tell you you're my always. You can hug me from behind because those are the best kind of hugs. When you wrap your arms around me there is no place I'd rather be. You are very special to me and I would go nuts without you. Just the way when you smile your dimples show your shiny white teeth. The way every morning you walk by like you just won the lottery, hand in one pocket and Dunkin Donuts cup in the other. The way your bleach blonde hair is perfectly shaped.

You can make me laugh even when I'm in a bad mood. You smile and I forget things. I'm 5'2 and you’re 5'6 and when I hug you my head goes on your chest and in that exact place I feel the safest. When you flash those hazel eyes at me and I feel like I'm the only one there. Every superwoman needs her superman, Minnie needs her Mickey, and every queen needs her king. You are all those things wrapped into one. You make time stop for me; whenever I'm around you nothing matters to me.

We can sit and

talk for hours or just sit, as long as I'm next to you, my hands wrapped around yours. You put the “you” in “you and I”. You don't have to be perfect; just be the way you are. If you ever need to talk I'm there for you, Babe. If you're upset, you don't have to say anything; I will sit there and hold your hand. You don't have to buy me flowers; your smile is enough. You don't have to be perfect just be you.

Blizzard 2015 Joshua Benoit On Monday night, everyone pretty much knew that there would be no school. So I was very happy to be able to have a friend sleep over. When we arrived home we sat inside and basically waited for it to snow. It was dark when the blizzard really started to happen. We love the snow, so we got in our snow stuff and went into the whirling storm. As we walked knees-deep in the snow, we noticed that the very fast- flying snow hurt when it hit our eyes and faces. So we turned right around and went inside to get face shields and goggles. When we got back outside, with our faces covered, we made the adventure walk to get to the shed where the sleds were. This walk would normally take about 2-3 minutes. It ended up taking us 10 minutes to get there.

We grabbed the sleds and went up and down a hill that I live on. We also made a jump and we were getting high up in the air. After we got bored with sledding we decided we wanted to try to make an igloo. We got to about a one- foot- high wall in a circle. And then we gave up. This is when I noticed that there was a huge snow drift right next to my porch! So we got on the top railing of it and jumped 13 feet down into a snow drift that was up to my chest! I remember jumping down and lying there for a little bit. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind whipping around; it sounded like something from a nightmare.

We jumped into the snow over and over again until there were no new spots to jump on. By now both of our hands were freezing and I had a lot of snow in my boots. So we decided to call it quits and go inside. Inside we got out of our snow stuff and put them by the fire. And then we sat down and had hot cocoa that had been waiting for us. After our hot chocolate we noticed it was late, so we decided to get into our warm beds. In our minds we thought of the next day when we would go sledding at a golf course, dreading at the same time all the shoveling that would have to be done to get to the golf course.

The Unknown Sound Maddie Medeiros No light leaked into my room because it was still dark.

My patience was as thin as melting ice. I rolled over onto my side to see it was 4:00 in the morning. My skin crawled with aggravation. All I wanted was for the clock to read 6:00. I rolled over on my back, shutting my eyes, trying to fall back to sleep. I quickly shot them open, realizing that no black fur ball was beside me. I looked on both sides of my bed; still no dog in sight. I heard the ripping of paper coming from outside of my burrow of blankets. I got out of bed and looked around. “Rip�, there it was again. Now that I was fully aware, it was coming from outside my room. I walked out to the hall. The creak of the door made me wince; I tip-toed my way through the hallway, careful not to make any loud noises. I stumbled over a dog toy that almost had me flying through the air. I pulled myself together, straining my ears to find the noise. And there it was. I followed it. With each step I took it kept getting louder and louder. When I reached the living room the mystery was solved; my dog was into her presents, shredding them open, unveiling her brand new toys! When she saw me she wagged her tail and walked over, lying down on my feet, chewing her new bone.

The Best Music Teacher Brianna Kelley When I was in fifth grade I was forced to take a music class. Back then I didn’t really like that class, because I was terrible at it. I didn’t know what the G clef was, I didn’t know what the difference was between a quarter note and a half note, and I had no idea what time signatures were. The music teacher told us we would be starting to play the piano. “I can’t do this! I don’t even know how to read music, never mind play it!” I told myself. The first day I didn’t really try, but soon I started to like playing. The only problem was I couldn’t get the current notes! The music teacher took time out of her day to help me. With her help, I got better. My grades went up and I felt a lot better about that class. The next year she asked me to join her chorus class. I wasn’t completely sure if I wanted to. I had really bad stage fright. Each music class she would ask me to join, and one day I finally gave in. When I entered the chorus class I didn’t know anyone, but later I was glad I had joined. I worked on reading music and chorus, and I got better and better.

The next year I had to switch schools to Mattacheese. I was scared because I didn’t know anyone who went there. Some of my friends knew people there, but I didn’t. I was relieved when I heard that the music teacher was coming. In chorus class she picked some people to audition for a thing called Junior Southeast. She only picked five people, and I wasn’t one of them, but she was happy to let me try out. I was auditioning as an alto. There was one other alto auditioning, one soprano, and two tenors. I went to Attleboro High School to audition with five other students in my grade. About three weeks later the music teacher got an e-mail. It said who had gotten in, and who hadn’t. Three out of the five people had gotten in. I was one and there were two other tenors that were chosen.

Later in the year she came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be in a play called You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. She said if I accepted I would play Sally, who is Charlie Brown’s little sister. I was very hesitant. I knew I should be scared, but I thought it would be a good opportunity to work on my stage fright, so I accepted.

It was a lot of fun, and I got to meet a lot of new people.

Well, taking chorus at Mattacheese I tried out for a solo. The person I was trying out for was named Audrey. She lived in Skid Row, which was a really gross part of town. I got the solo. I was really sad when I found out I had to go to the high school for eighth grade and I had to leave the music teacher, Mrs. Anderson. Wednesday, December 17th I went back to see her at the

seventh grade concert at Mattacheese. I really miss her and that school, but I’ve had a fun time at the high school too!

Memoir Anonymous Only once have I known that I needed to share something that had happened to me. Something bad, something I try my best to forget about. Something I still won’t fully admit to in my head, even though it’s been eight years. I find that, as I get older, it bothers me more and more. I remember everything so clearly and I hate that. I hate that it happened over and over again. I hate that it happened. I hate the situation I’m in.

I absolutely hate it. I think telling myself it didn’t happen is easier, because I sat in a police station for hours four times a week, having to talk about it, having to repeat myself constantly.

I know it happened, and I’m not sure that I deny it; I know I don’t talk about it or admit to it, but it happened. And no matter how hard I try and scrub it away, with my pencil eraser, my blue shower puff, or my toothbrush, at the end of the day, it’s my past and there will always be a void, a part of me that doesn’t let my guard down, a part of me that lets my PTSD get to me. And there will always be bad memories. But there will also be plenty of good memories. I have some hope that those good memories will overcome the bad ones.

Rattlesnake Eggs Liz Petruzzi I remember when my family drove down to Disney World in Florida a few years ago. My grandparents had given my mom and me a trip down to Disney for Christmas, something I had been hoping for. During April vacation my grandparents came with us while we all drove down in one tiny car. We stopped at South of the Border, a rundown tourist attraction on the border of South Carolina and North Carolina. There weren’t many cars or people walking around. But we found that there was a restaurant, and a giant sombrero that was at the top of a tower almost a hundred feet in the air. You could take stairs or an elevator to the top of the giant hat. There was also a store where you could buy cute little souvenirs. You could buy beautifully crafted statues of wolves howling, or little dream catchers. There was some other stuff too but I can’t remember anymore.

My grandmother did buy one thing though. It was a small yellow envelope, kind of like the envelopes that we get our report cards in. On the front it said in big black letters, “RATTLESNAKE EGGS”. Now, my grandma is a high school biology teacher so I didn’t think much of it at the time. Once we got back to the car I asked her if I could see the eggs. But as soon as I tried to open it, the envelope rattled and vibrated. It scared me so much that I threw it back at my grandma and tried to get as far from it as possible; I even tried to go through the closed door. My mom and grandparents started laughing, but I didn’t think it was funny. When I looked inside the envelope, there was a small piece of bent wire that had two elastics attached to each end. In the middle of the elastics there was a washer that, when twisted, would hit the sides of the envelope if it was opened only a little bit. I started laughing too, and I decided that I was going to keep it. When we got back I brought it to school with me and scared all my friends. And that’s what happened at South of the Border.

Popcorn Emily Sprague When I lived in Maine I lived with my Mom, her best friend Heather, and Heather’s kids. Then there was me and my Mom’s boyfriend. My Mom had been friends with Heather for twenty years. Her kids were all older than me. I was only in fifth grade when I moved to go live with them. Their names were Justin, Courtney and Dylan. They were all like my brothers and sisters. Dylan was the youngest, then Courtney, and then Justin was the oldest.

When I lived up there we would all mess around and have a blast. The best memory that I had when I lived up there was with me and Justin. I was cooking popcorn once and it was quiet in the house. Justin’s room was directly at the end of the hallway. So, just before the timer went off, I heard loud footsteps pounding on the floor. I turned to look down the hallway and when I did I saw Justin charging down the hallway at me. He then TACKLED ME! One of his hands was holding me back while the other was stealing the popcorn! He ran back down the hallway into his room. He was smart enough to lock the door.

Before he came back out of his room he had already eaten half of the bag.

I don’t know why, but that’s one of my favorite memories!

PB&J Joshua Benoit What would I do if a peanut butter and jelly sandwich fell upside down on the floor? Let me begin that this may not seem like a big deal, but in my house it is. First off, the jelly would be on top. I mean, like have you ever heard of a peanut butter and jelly with the jelly on top!? Anyway the PB&J would be flying in the air towards the ground. You hear me in the background "Nooooooooo" as the PB&J hits the ground. The delicious, creamy, smooth peanut butter squirts out the side as it hits the ground. I mourn and cry over this loss for only 10 minutes, a new record. I'm lying there, tears in my eyes, next to the PB&J. There is jelly and peanut butter everywhere, like a murder scene. Then the famous 3 PB&J killers (A.K.A my dogs) come over. I know what is about to happen. "No please no, don't do it," but they come over. All of them are trying to get it.

"Nooooooooo!" One of them gets the first bite, and there is no turning back from there. "No Please!" They devour everything, and leave. I cry. I look down at the murder site. There is only a little piece of jelly left. I grab it, put it in a bag, and

have a proper burial. Chips, carrots, and orange juice attend.

It is a mournful day.

Hockey Concussion Josh Benoit Every year many Youth Pewee Hockey players suffer from concussions. I remember the first time I got a concussion because it wasn't too long ago. USA hockey recently set a ban against Pewee checking. But people are debating if the ban should be lifted or not. I believe the ban should stay.

I remember the game. We were playing the Orleans Coyotes, on a Sunday afternoon. The score was 2-1 and we were winning. I was going in the corner to get the puck. As soon as I got there a player that seemed to be 7 feet tall absolutely demolished me. I remember seeing my stick flying in the air, and concerned gasps go through the crowd. From then I don't remember much. When I woke up I found myself lying on the ice, looking up at the ref and my dad (who was my coach). I remember being really tired and have an aching pain in my head.

They picked me up and started to walk back to the bench. It was hard to walk. On our way back I asked "How long was I out?"

My dad said about three minutes, but it felt like three hours.

When we got back to the bench, my teammates asked if I was ok; I slurred my words and managed to get out a yes. I was brought into the locker room and sat down. Soon one of the opposing team’s moms, who was a trainer, came in. She checked my eyes and asked me questions. When she was done she said I most likely had a concussion. I got out of my gear and then we went to the doctor, who also said that I had a concussion. He also said I couldn't go to school for a week and not to do a lot of hard thinking. Which is harder than you think. It was not a fun time.

I'm glad there is now a ban on Pewee level players checking. It lowers concussion rates. And fewer kids will have an experience like mine.

Memoir of My Grandmother Sara Abrahamson It went from a peaceful and calm room to a rampage. I was sitting at the bedside of my grandmother at the hospital. She had a form of cancer. All of a sudden the doctors started to pile in and they asked me to leave. I did not want to leave the room, but I had no choice. I got up, gave my grandmother a kiss, and left.

The glass sliders to the room closed and I leaned up against them, peering inside the room. I looked at the monitor and she was crashing. I felt a tear drop from my eye. Then more and more came pouring down; I was a mess. I looked back at my grandmother and I waved. She could not wave back; that was when I knew these were her last minutes.

I felt someone clench my shoulder from behind. I looked back; it was my mother. I gave a hug and didn’t let go. I heard the slider open. The doctor made it official; she was gone. I instantly had a flashback to all of the memories we had together and knew that they were all gone. I looked at my mom and she looked back. We both looked towards my grandmother. None of this felt real. I didn’t want it to be real. I hated every moment of this.

I will never forget all of the times we had spent together and the amount of laughs we had together. Life went by so quickly. I had never expected Thanksgiving to turn out like this. I was thankful that I had gotten to spend 14 years of my life with a beautiful woman like herself. She was the kindest, most inspirational person I had ever met in my life. I didn’t leave the hospital for a long time after; I needed a couple of my own last moments with her.

Since the day my grandmother died, 11/7/14, I take a run down to her grave and pray. It is the only thing that gives me hope. I have not had a day without seeing her. It cheers me up to see how lit up her gravestone is. I will miss her for the rest of my life and she and she will never be forgotten. She is my inspiration and I love her to death, just as I always will.

Rest in peace, Grandma. I love you.

Home Run Matt Smith I remember my first home run as if it were yesterday. In fact it was actually two years ago, on a warm spring night, with clear skies and a slight breeze. The sky was starting to get a flaming orange flare to it, as if the sky were reacting to my mood that day. I woke up in a really good mood, and I was absolutely ecstatic for my Little League game that evening.

Once the game had started I was prepared to have a big game, coming off some good hits in the last game. After my first at bat where I got walked, I was prepared to step in for the second time that night.

As I stepped into the dusty batter’s box, a slight wind conjured up a dust tornado of sorts that slowly swept across the field as if anticipating that something was about to happen. I looked at the pitcher, and he looked back. I got set in the box, and he got set on the mound.

Then it seemed like it was just the three of us; the pitcher, trying his hardest to strike me out, the ball, just being manipulated by the players like a puppet on strings; it had no say in what would happen, and then, finally, me, the batter.

These three things were the only things in my mind then; the idea hit me like a fastball to the face. I had an idea that I thought was just plain stupid, but I had to give it a shot. For the first time in my half-way decent Little League career I had the idea that I should try to hit a home run! A moonshot! A long ball! A hole-in-one! Whatever slang you want to use for it.

Then I did it.

Swing of the bat, and the ball was off like a child waking up on Christmas morning to see if Santa had really come.

It kept going and going, out of the park, into a fan’s hand! And only after it passed through many other hands did it finally find a home inside a tiny sombrero on my bureau, and that is where it remains to this day, and it will remain there for many more years to come.

I Could Have Lost You...

Hanna Blake I remember it as if it were just yesterday. Thinking if she would live or not, wondering if she would ever get better, if she will ever be able to fight through the pain in her head that was trying to kill her. Doctor appointments after doctor appointments, of thinking “it is just a headache” for seven years in a row, but all of a sudden it's more than that; the MRI shows that there is a tumor resting in the left side of her brain, sizing around a small tennis ball or a large egg. Why her? Why out of all people, my Mom has to get a deadly brain tumor? What made it so everything had to happen to her?

Days and months went by of continuous doctor appointments, driving all over to make sure she got the right treatment. Some days I would just bawl my eyes out, with my head on the desk, and have my fourth grade teacher always come up to me and tell me to keep my chin up and think and hope for the best. I wouldn't think anyone could help me through this, but out of everyone, my fourth grade teacher was there for me through every living second of the day with me and making me feel comfortable as much as she could.

The day of the surgery she lay 13 hours on the table, life or death moments, then it hit! She's gone… 30 seconds she's dead! All of a sudden she said to herself, “No I'm NOT dying.

It's my battle and I'm going to win this. I'm going to be the strong person I know I am.” And she fought the battle and won it for two years, this past June.

My Mom has had an amazing recovery. There have been so many ups and downs in her recovery but she still fought and is now back up and better than she ever had been. If I had to say, I would say my Mom is my idol because, if it weren't for her, I wouldn't know how hard things can get, and that it's your choice to win or lose a battle. No matter how hard things get, you just never give up.

Regret Emily Sprague Filled with regret Wanting to go back in time Before voices making fun of clothes and appearances and family ties Wanting to go back in time To make things right again.

Lying here thinking of people always the same, never the same, parents will always live in sorrow, The memories that existed once, will never exist again. The feeling of missing a loved one is heart-shattering.

Has she done this to others?

Are they dead like me or alive?

My parent will always love me.

But it will be a long, long time before They can see me again.

Filled with regret Wanting to go back in time Before voices making fun of clothes and appearances and family ties Wanting to go back in time To make things right again.

My life is better now, It's a place bullies don't exist.

Where you can be yourself.

But it was the wrong decision, Even though I'll never Have to deal With her Again.

Short Fire Deslyn Dawkins My Imagination, fueled by my education My inspiration merged with my dedication My raw creation, risen from my intellect, bin da best, neverless my mind in another world I'm on my grind every time, Benjamin-- the only stash green I just wanna find (yes) World’s so big but it's all mine, growing too fast, I got no time, when I die time just ran Out.

Cruise to heaven, big smile, giving God the biggest shout out.

This is a world

We can't decide

Whether to be a nerd or dress super fly Some do both because I see it fit Others choke to hell with it Education’s my wings that makes me soar Use it like a model in a fashion galore Listen to my message please don't ignore ‘Cause right now u might not need it 10 yrs from now u thinking how you missed it.

Christmas Shelby Dunn When I was nine years old, Christmas was a very special day for me and it still is today. Before Christmas Day, comes Christmas Eve. That’s when my family goes over to my grandfather’s house and has a party and gets in the Christmas spirit. We eat, play Christmas music, and sit in a circle and sing “The Twelve Days of Christmas”.

We would get home around 10:30. Then I would have to go outside to spread the reindeer food around the yard. I don’t want the reindeer to get hungry during their journey! After I put the reindeer food out, I head to bed. I get up early the next day and run down the stairs with my brother. We always stop on the stairs and look at the tree and all the gifts under it. We aren’t allowed to open anything until our parents get up, so we go through our stockings and then lie down on the couch.

As we were all opening up our presents we came across one that looked the same. We all opened ours at the same time and it was a suitcase for each of us. We were all confused. Then we opened the suitcases up and there was a Disney shirt in each one. Our parents then told us we were going to Disney World!

We didn’t believe them; we thought they were joking. My mom then went to her pocketbook and grabbed the tickets to show us that we were actually going!

That was the best Christmas ever! I got to go to the happiest place ever, where dreams really do come true.

Reading Memoir Carly Coughlin As a child, the turning of a book page was one of my favorite sounds. The smell of a newly-purchased story coming out of its wrapping was my favorite smell. Fresh ink on crisp white pages surrounded by colorful illustrations was my favorite sight. My mother was the one who taught me to read, beginning when I was around three years old, assisted by my dad and two older siblings. It began with short and simple words, such as "cat", and eventually progressed to a more advanced level. My preferred children's book to read aloud was Monkeys Jumping on the Bed, while my favorite book to have read to me was Yertle the Turtle.

As a resident of Yarmouth Port, the Yarmouth Port Library was the place I always went to as an opportunity to pick out the latest adventure I would dive into by means of reading. Their children's section had a collection of my favorites, and the cozy cushioned nook by the window was the perfect spot to curl up and open a story into the world of literature. In the following years I joined the summer program of the South Yarmouth Library, which involved reading logs and the freedom to check out any book of my choice.

Though I read numerous books during my childhood in a variety of genres and levels, a few stories remain prominent in my mind as my absolute favorites, ones I begged my parents to read to me over and over again. These were stories such as Ferdinand, The Giving Tree, Madeline, The Berenstain Bears, and the series of "Just Ask" educational tales. I loved the humor and creativity the author had the ability to put into words, each turning page a new favorite story.

Overall, the heaps of reading I covered in my early childhood contributed to the love of reading I currently possess, as well as my passion for writing. I credit my education as far as colors, counting, and word choice to the books read to me as a little girl. Had my parents not taught me to read, with the assistance of incredibly talented authors, I would not be where I am now.

The Blizzard of 2015 Maddie Medeiros It was finally starting to feel like winter when I woke up to see the snow piled high in my front yard. I thought I grew out of being excited about the snow, but I quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the living room to get a better look.

This is what winter wonderland would look like. The only color visible was white, and it looked like flour. The house started to rattle as a huge gust of wind swirled around outside, making the snow jump and swirl in the winter air.

At this point my face was pressed against the glass of my door, eagerly looking at it.

I went to go greet my mom and she smiled when I walked in.

She had a cup of hot coffee in one hand and a remote in the other. I was taking a guess the my dad was already outside.

So, I said my greetings to my mom and bolted into my room to get ready.

I don't have proper snow gear, so it resulted in my trying to find anything warm to put on. I ended up having two pairs of leggings and a pair of sweatpants over those.

An Underarmor shirt, long sleeve shirt, and a fleece hoodie covered my upper body. And to top it off, a nice Patriots hat was on my head. I got some old boots on and went out into the garage to put on a rain coat.

Once I was ready I braced myself for the cold air and stepped outside into snow that was up to my knees. I squinted my eyes trying not to get any of the snow that was caught in the wind in my eyes. I searched for my dad to see him shoveling our driveway. He waved at me and I waved back; I started to trudge through the fluffy thick snow, and I knew I was ready for the Blizzard of 2015.

Chapter 32 Liz Petruzzi I looked down at the horrible scene laid out in front of me.

My team lay, unmoving, on the ground below me. Unconscious or dead, I couldn't tell. The three attackers were watching, waiting, for me. They all turned simultaneously and scanned the treetops.

A slight wind whispered through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and break the dead silence. But as quickly as it came, the wind was gone, plunging the forest back into its graveyard silence.

As quietly as I could, I shifted around the branch I was perched on to look into my pack. Inside my pack was a small bit of rope, some food rations and no weapons to help save the team.

I have no way to fight them, and no way to save my team. I thought desperately. I guess my only option is to surrender to them.

I leapt down from the branch; my black clothes making me look like a shadow in the night. I barely made a sound as I hit the ground but it was enough to draw the attention of the attackers.

They whipped around to face me as I slowly stepped into the moonlit clearing.

I raised my hands in defeat. “You’ve won. I surrender.” I said quietly.

The attackers turned to look at each other. Then the closest one came over to me and shoved me to the ground, cuffing my hands behind my back. I didn’t resist; there was no point.

The attackers were wearing black ski masks and all black clothes but in the bright light from the moon I saw a glint of metal from around their eye holes in their masks as they moved around.

So they’re androids. I thought. That explains how they could take down five super-powered teenagers so easily.

The closest member to me like silver in the pale see the rise and fall of My hopes were answered

was Jax. His bleach-blonde hair glinted moonlight. I looked at him, hoping to his chest that betrayed his breathing. when I saw what I was searching for.

I glanced around the clearing at the rest of my team. All of them were still breathing. I sighed in relief.

Behind me the three attackers had gathered in a circle. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of them pull out what looked like a small metal sphere from their jacket. A button was pressed, and a golden light suddenly exploded in the clearing, destroying the darkness.

Then we were gone, transported to some faraway place. The forest was once again silent and dark. The only evidence that we were ever there was a black backpack hanging from a tree.

Reincarnation Liz Petruzzi

What do you think of when you hear the word reincarnation? Do you think of the flower or do you think of the theory of coming back to life as something else? Well I’m here to tell you that it’s true. Reincarnation is real; it happens. I should know; I’ve been reincarnated five times. I’ve been a human, an oak tree, a golden retriever, a daisy, and a bald eagle. And I remember it all. I remember everything from each one of my lives. I remember growing tall as the oak tree and playing fetch as the golden retriever. I’ve just ended my fifth life, my life as a bald eagle. Now I am suspended in darkness, waiting to be born again. Sometimes I wait for as long as the universe has been around and sometimes it’s only a few seconds. But it’s always the same. I feel darkness all around me until a white light starts to shine, chasing the darkness away. Then I open my eyes or, if I’m a plant, I come out of the ground, to my new life. I’ve always wondered why I keep coming back, why can’t I just stay dead instead of living over and over again. It’s not that I want to stay dead, I mean, to keep living and experience what it’s like to be an animal or plant is pretty cool, but I want to know what happens after all that. Would I just stay in the darkness and never see the light again or would there actually be a heaven out there. Is there actually a city of angels just waiting for me? But would I want to give up life to go see it? So many things run through my mind that I can’t filter through them all. It’s like my brain is a tornado of thoughts, emotions and ideas that I can’t sift through as they blow by me. I close my eyes and try to sort through the tornado that has become my mind. And in that instant, I miss the white light. My eyes open and I see that I’m lying on a white sand beach, crystal blue waters and a forest all around me. In the distance there’s a shining white city, waiting and watching.

Figures fly around in the azure sky above, and I know where I am. I’m home, my life finally over, but my afterlife just beginning.

A Few Days in History Marisa Souza Dear Diary, Today I was assigned inspiration for the new IArt ™ Apple inc., for my research paper. I believe that the most convenient form of getting information is field work, so I will venture to the Renaissance where the most famous art is from. I will use my new ITravel ™ Apple inc. My father got it for me for my birthday so that I can go back and see my sister. Hannah died last year of cancer; the cure was administered too late. I am very happy that a cure was found, yet I am broken-hearted that my sister was not saved. I have seen Hannah every day since I got my ITravel. Well, I must go tell Father that I will be absent for a few days.

Yours Truly, Marisa of MAC-ville Dear Diary, I traveled to the Renaissance today. As always I was a bit disoriented at first but when my eyes finally focused I discovered dozens of people staring at me. I began to walk forward and the expressions on their faces turned to utter horror. I felt a slight tugging sensation like walking through Jello and then a weird pop. Amazement was now on the people’s faces. Only then did I realize the odd and extravagant clothing they wore. It reminded me of the kind of dress royalty wore hundreds of years ago. I took out my IPhone 13 and googled “royal dress” . Instantly I received a notification telling me that I had no connection. I did a double-take. There has been Internet and phone connection everywhere I traveled. Then I remembered that there were no cell phones in the Middle Ages and just the thought made me shiver. I put my phone back into my pocket and looked back up only to find everyone kneeling. All except one woman who was wearing a beautiful, ornate, purple dress and what seemed to be a crown encrusted with many shining jewels. Immediately I got an impression of importance. The lovely woman beckoned me forward and after a moment I stood before her.

"Quel genre de sorcellerie être présent?"

Thank Steve Jobs, that I was fluent in French. She said What sorcery be this? She must have meant me popping out of nohere.

Weird, every other time I had poofed into existence alone. I turned around to see where I popped in from. Holy Apple!! I had just walked through the Mona Lisa. That explained the looks. At

least now I had a general time frame. Pity though, that Leonardo is already; dead I would have loved to meet him.

"Answer your Queen", the woman commanded.

I translated automatically. I couldn't remember the French Queen during the Renaissance. " Qui etês-vous?" I asked.

A series of gasps went through the room. " You do not know who I am!! I am Catherine, Queen of France!"

Oh, so she must be Catherine de Medici. It was all coming back to me now. She couldn't be more than 30 years old and that would mean she must be married to King Henry II. That would presently make her Queen Consort (She doesn't have much power until the King dies and she rules because her son is young and frail, and then he dies a year later.)

I quickly tell her that I am not from here but from England and that my name is Elizabeth King just because it sounds British. Theatre is finally paying off when I easily slip into a British accent, which is hard when you are speaking French. " You are a sorceress, no?" Catherine asks.

I simply nod to avoid any confusing or beheadings. She turns to the still-kneeling people. " You may rise."

And with that she strides out of the room.

I stay standing there confused as to what to do next, when one of her guards nods for me to follow her. I quickly follow her down a long hall complete with detailed paintings, silk curtains, and plush carpet. We arrive in what looks like an enormous sitting room. Catherine sits and I can see she expects me to do the same, so I do.

“I have a proposition for thee” she says, speaking English.

The French are snobby like that; even if they know English they won’t speak it until you acknowledge their language. Anyway I don’t exactly know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.

“Yes....?” I asked, unsure.

“My son Prince Francis II’s betrothed. Princess Mary of Scots is coming to live with us and someone needs to look after her.

She grew up around many English nobles. I believe she would be more comfortable with thee.”

I thought for a moment, trying to place all the dates and numbers in my head. The year had to be 1548; that would make Catherine 29, Francis II 4 , and Mary, who would become Queen of Scots, 6. After I got that straightened I had to carefully form my answer.

“I’ll nay stay a fortnight, only three days pass at most.”

She watched me carefully and then smiled.

“ Then for three days you shall stay here in the palace, and take care of Mary until more permanent arrangements can be made.”

I guess I could live with that, staying in a palace could be fun. I nodded obediently and bat my eyelashes. She looked to a servant.

“Show Miss King to her quarters.”

I am dismissed. The room I am led to has a simple bed, a fireplace, and a chair for reading, I presume, but the view is magnificent.

“Merci” I say to the woman as she leaves.

So here I am writing all of this down; I am extremely tired so I bid thee good night.

Evermore, Sorceress Elizabeth King, of England Dear Diary, When I awake this morning the maid who showed me my room is waiting at my bedside. I look up at her with what I hope is a kind expression. The maid smiles at me.

“Tu robe mademoiselle?” she says holding up a green dress.

“Merci” I say.

The maid remains.

“Aider?” She wants to help me dress.

“Non.......Tu t’appelle comment?” I ask.

“Je m’appelle Sabine, madame” Her name is Sabine.

“Merci, Sabine.”

After she leaves I somehow manage to get into the odd contraption of a dress; it fits me perfectly. I grow hungry and just as I am about to leave my room in search of food the door opens, revealing Catherine and a little girl whom I assume is Mary.

“Bonjour, Elizabeth, this is Mary.”

I smile down at the little girl. She is cute, nothing like I would expect a ruler to be and reminds me of Hannah a bit. Another thing struck me as odd. According to my school teacher, Catherine wasn’t particularly fond of Mary …. I wonder why. Mary opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Catherine. “ She arrived early, and will be staying in the room next to yours. Please try to keep her out of trouble and teach her some manners.”

Wow, harsh. She was only six; up until now Catherine had seemed pretty decent. I wonder what her problem was with this innocent little girl. Catherine nudges Mary into my room.

“ You may break your fast in the dining hall whenever you please.”

With that, she leaves. Mary turns to me.

“May we go to the dining hall?”

What was Catherine talking about; Mary had manners.

“Of Course, I’m starved” I replied.

Mary looks concerned, so I rephrase and tell her I’m hungry. Breakfast wasn’t as bad as I expected, but I would kill for some crepes. After we ate, Mary and I decided to explore. We found exactly what I expected, a ton of rooms and barely any people. We passed a few servants, but they were always silent.

After a while we again grew hungry and found ourselves in the kitchen. It, too, was empty, but I was able to find some eggs, so we had scrambled eggs for dinner. When we had both eaten our fill of the eggs(Mary had never heard of scrambled eggs) we retired for the night.

Forever Yours, Elizabeth King, Glorified Babysitter Dear Diary, Mary arose early and woke me to tell me of an art fair she heard the maids speaking of. I do not like the idea of leaving the palace gates but Mary begs and I soon oblige. As we enter the town, I hold Mary’s hand tightly. I’m so unused to the people. I am happy when no one recognizes us. Soon enough we find the art fair and I am dragged to see each and every picture; already I am bored. I am zoned out when Mary squeals with delight I glance sharply at her, yet she is completely engrossed in the painting in front of her. I look up and am shocked at what I see.

“I didn’t know you were a muse!” she says to me accusingly.

Sure enough the painting looks exactly like me but it is clear that this painting is at least a fortnight old, the paint needs a long time to dry. I laugh quietly to myself.

“A Doppelganger” I whisper.

The concept has always intrigued me. Mary hears me and asks about the foreign-seeming word. The sun is beginning to set and I try to explain the concept to her as we journey back to the palace.

Sincerely, Newfound Doppelganger Marisa Dear Diary, Today I have decided to track down my double. Mary is off on a playdate with Francis. I gather my cloak and set off with the sun high in the sky. What happened next is quite confusing, so I’ll try to put it simply:

1. I asked around about the painting and was only able to find out who the artist was.

2. After being sent in every direction I was finally able to find one Pierre Dubois.

3. Pierre grudgingly pointed me in the direction of the convent where he saw the girl’s face and then incorporated it into his painting.

That is how I ended up in front of a church in the middle of the night. I contemplated knocking, but instead sat myself on the step and drifted to sleep . I was startled awake by someone poking my forehead. I am definitely not someone you want to wake up, and just when I was about to start yelling, I saw who was poking me …....it was me!!!

“Qui etes-vous?” she asked staring intently at my face. “ Englais, s’il vous plait” I said, too tired to translate.

Before she could speak again I told her my real name and how I had found her.

Once again I was forced to explain the doppelganger concept. She seemed very intrigued and told me her name was Elizabeth this made me laugh, I explained how Elizabeth had been my fake name and she smiled. I don’t know what it was, but I immediately felt comfortable telling her everything, probably because she looked like me. I told Elizabeth that I was from the future and about everything that had happened so far. I confessed that I did not want to leave Mary alone with Catherine. Elizabeth, in turn, told me how when she found me on the steps she was running away from the convent because she wanted to make her own choices. I nodded sympathetically and asked if I could help.

“The only thing that would solve my problems is a completely different life.”

Just like that a light bulb clicked. Elizabeth would take my life in the palace so that I could return to my time. I told her about Mary and about what I had told Catherine about myself.

Luckily Elizabeth could speak with an English accent. There-everything was set and perfect, but I would miss Mary. In the end I decided that it was best that Elizabeth take care of her because she could help her more. I am writing all of this from my room back in MAC-ville.

Broken-hearted, Marisa

Dear Diary, Today I got an A+ on my report for the inspiration of Art. It said that I really knew the material. I used the angle that the IArt was being made to show people the mysteries of the Renaissance, the paintings no one knew about, like the beautiful one of Elizabeth the sad-eyed girl from a convent. As soon as I got home I looked up Elizabeth King and found that painting of Elizabeth along with many of her with Mary growing up. This surprised me because changes made while traveling back in time via ITravel never stuck. I was grateful, though, for the glitch in the system, because that meant that both Elizabeth and Mary led happy lives and that they stuck together until their deaths just as it said on my Ceiling MAC pro. My eyes grew watery as I logged off. I felt as if I had been granted a second life in the Renaissance. The experience I knew I would never forget. If you are reading this I hope you remember Mary and Elizabeth as I do.

Warmest Regards, Marisa of the Renaissance

Pretzel Therapy Sean Rogers This Story is Not Real, I Did Not Go Through Pretzel Therapy Walking out the door, the wind hits my face like a rocket.

I get the nerve to walk. I am on my way to the field, and I can feel the big yellow sun shining on the back of my neck. I see my goal; I know what I must do. The therapist left it for me on the dirty, white bleachers. My anxiety got the best of me and I fell. The grass feels warm, unlike the air. I could stay here, not have to eat those evil things...

No, I tell myself. I must continue. I get up and keep going. I reach the parking lot, the rocks crunching beneath my feet like potato chips. Or does it sound like pretzels? I shiver. Stop, I tell myself. The words of my therapist come back to me. Not every pretzel is evil I tell myself. Don’t think about that day. The day the pretzel almost took my life...

Two years ago, I was eating what my mom packed for lunch that morning: a peanut butter sandwich and a bag of pretzels. I felt the salt on my hands as I move the pretzel closer to my mouth. It reaches my mouth and I chew very fast and swallow. But I don’t swallow right and I started to choke...

Stop it I tell myself. Stop thinking about it. I am so close, I can't stop now, he left me the pretzels, and I must do this, to conquer my fears. I start to jog, then run, then sprint. Once I reach the bowl of pretzels he left me, I immediately grab one and put it in my mouth, but I start to choke again. No no no no no...... but I’m just anxious and I get it down. Then another one, then another.

In the end, I never choked on another pretzel, I have gotten over those fears and it will never bother me again.

THE ONLY ONE LEFT Emma Anne Fahle Beep, beep, beep, beep.

The sound of the machine keeping me alive beeped on as I lay motionless in my hospital bed. Every few seconds, the machine would go dead; a straight line of death would appear. But just as I would be gone, the machine would kick in and save me from going into the warm, tender bright light. It was torture. Just when I felt serene and peaceful, the wretched life-saver would go off and keep me from my heaven. So, to keep my mind off the subject, I think of the accident.

It’s the reason why I am here.

I know that it’s heartbreaking to recall, but it’s all I can think about, besides the beeping.

It all began on a crisp fall evening. My best friends Theo and Tara were going to sneak into the coolest party for miles around. It was hosted by the one and only Tally McWinston; the prettiest, most popular girl in our little old town of Florio, Michigan. The head cheerleader, the perfect everything – anyone and everyone wanted to be like her, except for us. We didn’t need glitz and glamour. All we needed was each other. Tally McWinston had ruby-red hair and scorching hazel brown eyes, while I only offered bleach blonde hair with black highlights and a set of baby blue eyes. But I never looked down on myself for my non-popularity or my modern beauty.

Anyway, it was the night of the party and only the most popular people were allowed to enter, so we had to sneak in through the back window of the McWinston’s mansion. The plan was set and the time was now! Even though this was really thrilling and exciting, I had ten thousand unknown species of anxious butterflies in my stomach and was worrying about the consequences.

“Should we really do this? seems risky!” I asked Tara.

I mean, it would be awesome, but it

Tara looked at me with amazement, not believing the words coming out of my mouth. I, too, was wondering what I was saying. ”There’s no way we’ll get caught! All we need to do is slip in through the back window and we’re in!”

I looked at her skeptically. “Yeah, that seems great, except for the part that involves us getting out. What are we gonna do if

someone sees us leaving out the window and follows us?” I say as I’m getting more and more worried about our adventure.

“Listen,” Tara sighs and puts on an understanding face, “I know that you’re cautious about tonight, but it’s going to be so much fun. Also, Theo would be really happy to see you all dressed up and fancy!” Tara laughs and throws her head back in a theatrical way.

“Shut up!”

I rolled my eyes and flushed the brightest red possible. Theo has known me since we were in kindergarten and has liked me since, but that never got in the way of our friendship. I tried to change the awkward subject by focusing on the time. “Hey, its 8:14 and it takes us twenty minutes to get there.”

Tara disregarded me and applied more eyeliner to her done up face.

Beep, beep – the car outside honks with impatience. I look out and saw none other than Theo. Theo was dressed up in his black denim jeans and dark blue muscle shirt, both complimenting his blonde hair and deep blue eyes. As he waited for us, he looked up and saw me gazing at him. Embarrassed, he blushed and gave me his gentle smile, revealing his glistening teeth.

As I pulled my head back in the window, I looked upon Tara and gave her the once over. She looked fabulous. She was wearing her hair done up in chestnut brown curls that fell softly around her face. She wore a short emerald green strapless dress which matched her deep green eyes. The thing that really surprised me was that she was wearing high heels. Tara and I were the type of girls who would always wear converse and jeans. No dresses would ever be discovered in our closets – until today. I was always known as the comfortable looking one, with my Dorothy red converse and light blue jeans– nothing too fancy, but nothing too messy. Anyway, today would be a little different, with my blue fit-n-flare dress, red shoes, and blonde hair swept to the side in a low bun. Even though I thought I looked great, I felt a little uncomfortable with the dress that only fell halfway to my knees. But Tara insisted that I looked great, so my worries eventually passed.

As we both clung to each other’s arm, we smiled and descended the stairs.

As we left the house, the soft breeze of the cool wind caressed my face and filled me with happiness. I looked at Theo and he looked at me. It was a moment of utter silence. No. Stop. I

can’t like Theo.

He was my best friend!

But he was my match...my one and only.

We simply, just, clicked into place. I knew he liked, well, more or less, loved me. I was pretty sure I loved him back, so I planned to ask him out at the party. It took me a long time to admit it, but it’s true. I’m in love with Theo Ellis! Anyway, he had that glimmer in his eyes that he always had when he saw me, but this was the first time that I returned the glimmer and he saw it and smiled.

As we got into the cherry-red 1965 Mustang convertible, Tara took the driver’s seat and motioned me to the back seat, where Theo is already seated. I smiled and sighed dramatically, but inside I was so excited, that the butterflies in my stomach returned. As I got in the car, he scooted closer, acting like he was repositioning himself, but I could see what he was really doing.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Hi.” I blushed and smiled back. I don’t know why but I was so nervous around him.

“So, are you ready to have the time of your life – partying with the best of ‘em?” He asked me jokingly. I don’t know how to react to his question, so I start to fidget with my hair.

“Absolutely! reply.

I can’t wait to beat you on the dance floor!” I

The mansion was amazingly huge.

I couldn’t wait to get there.

It had two dance rooms, eight bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms, two pools, a home theater and three kitchens.

I still wonder today, how Tally can stay so thin with all the temptations of her house.

After I settled into the car, I reached over and grabbed Theo’s hand as he lingered close. He squeezed my hand and smiled. I returned the sweet smile he gave me and scooched closer to him. When we were about an inch away from each other he drew his head close and whispered in my ear words that a woman longs to hear.

“You look beautiful, Willow”.

That was it – I was done. He won. I loved him and there was nothing I could do about it. Willow Richardson, that’s all I had ever been referred to by anyone. But now, I’d be forever known as Willow Richardson – the one who accidently fell in love. I couldn’t help but kiss Theo on the cheek after I got

out of my daze.

He smiled and I rested my head on his shoulder. How could all that messed up stuff fall into place in that one moment? I looked up at him and he kissed the top of my head and played with my hand while telling me he loved me. I returned his loving touch and repeated the words he had said to me.

“I love you, Theo; I always have and always will!”

In that moment I was compelled to touch his lips to mine and caress his hair. As I followed my instincts, he understood as well and leaned in for the epic kiss. Inches away, I could feel his minty breath on my face.

It felt so right, and then...gone.

I can hear the screeching of the tires and the crash of the windshield. I saw Tara’s head snap back and then front as I scream out her name. She strains to look back and screams my name as well. I’m crying and still screaming. She looks at me with the eyes that say, “I love you” and “goodbye”. I shake my head and continue to scream but she doesn’t respond again.

It’s like I’m in slow motion and everything was straining to happen.

I look over at Theo and start crying.

He murmurs “I’ll love you forever.”

We hold hands.

I burst out crying again for his life and mine.

“I love you, too, and always will!” As our eyes start to say goodbye, I am thrown from the vehicle as I get thrust into and through the window.

I awaken with a jerk and I realize I’ve been dreaming about the accident again. Even though I’m in a coma and technically not awake, everything seems so crisp that I can hear everything.

But hearing everything isn’t always the best thing. As two nurses passed by my room, they talk about the patient that’s next door. They say that they heard that the 17 year old girl had died instantly in the crash and was pronounced dead in the ambulance and had luckily felt no pain in the crash. Funny – that sounds like Tara. Tara and I were both seventeen and we shared the same birthday.

Then they said it.

They said her name, Tara.

I scream inside and try to escape my prison that is shaped as my lifeless body.

I start to wonder what happened to Theo, and I hope that the same fate didn’t await him. But it did. I just knew inside

that Theo didn’t make it either. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard the cries of Mrs. Ellis, next door. She had cried like that once before, when Theo’s dad died from an overdose on alcohol. It was her and I knew that my newly discovered soul mate, my true love, was no more. Theo and Tara were dead. And, I was still living. It wasn’t fair. My love and my best friend were dead and I was still alive. I thrashed around and screamed in my head.

Beep, beep, beep. The appalling machine kept me alive when I wanted to be with my best friends. I wanted to die with them, but it would not come no matter how hard I willed it to.

Beep, beep, beeeeeep. This time I fought for the light. I did not want any more darkness. I wanted life to be over and to be embraced by the warmth and light. As much as I wanted to be alive, I wanted my friends more. I was a foster child, and my ‘parents’ probably haven’t even realized that I was gone. So no one would miss me. I could go with them, with my friends and live forever.

I fought, fought more than I’ve fought for anything in my life. And then, I got it. I won. There was one more, long beep, and then, silence.

The nurses would be too late. But, I was happy. The pain was gone. I was free. For the longest time I was the only one left, but now, I’ll be with them forever. And that’s all right with me.

The Other Side Of Marty Jenkins Olivia Van Lare When Marty was a child he had to deal with his schizophrenic mother. She used to bring young girls home from the park and dress them up with fancy clothes and makeup. She would keep them in the basement for a few days. Then she would kill them. Marty would hide in his closet when his mother was doing this, but sometimes she made him watch.

At school Marty was totally normal, and no one ever suspected anything was wrong at home. Marty blamed all of his problems on his father. His father left him and his mother when he was only two years old. He thought that this was the reason his mother was so crazy. During high school, Marty had many friends and was working towards going to college. Eventually, he went to college at UVM and became a nurse. He got a job as a school nurse at Concord Middle School in New Hampshire. He was only 29 and was already well on his way.

One day his mother showed up at the school and started telling him that her house was set on fire and that all of the girls had died. She then proceeded to tell him that she was proud of him for getting a job amongst all of these beautiful young children. This made him very mad because he knew that his mother was very ill and that it was his father's fault. He always wondered how a father could just abandon his family and make them suffer.

Late that night Marty went to the gas station to get some chips. Then he saw her, 13 year old Melanie Porter. She was sitting in the back of the store on the floor with a knife in her hand.

Marty approached her, “Hello young lady what is that you have there?”

“A knife, and I’ll cut you with it if you come any closer” She snarled. Melanie wasn’t actually a mean girl, she was just trying to act tough. Marty walked away and bought some chips and a soda at the register.

He began to approach her again. He looked at her and said, “Here you look hungry I bought these for you.” He showed her the chips and soda and by his surprise she stood up and took them from him. “So young lady what are you doing out at this time of night?”

“Let’s just say I’m having some family problems.”

“Well that doesn’t mean you have to sleep in a gas station store.”

“Well I wasn’t really thinking okay!”

“If you need I could take you to maybe one of your friends houses.” Marty said with his friendly voice that everyone loved.

“You know you seem pretty trustworthy, sure!” Marty and Melanie walked out to his car and got in.

“So what’s your name again?” asked Marty.

“Melanie, Melanie Porter. What’s yours?”

“Marty” “Well okay Marty, my friend lives on the next left” “Is that a cell phone?” Marty said pointing to her hand.

“Yes…. Why?” “Could I um make a quick call I forgot mine at home?”

“Well I guess so.” Melanie handed her phone to Marty who then began to dial a number. Marty opened his window and leaned his elbow up against it. Then all of a sudden he dropped the phone out the window and swerved around heading the other direction.

“Hey what the heck!” Marty didn’t say a word he just kept on driving. “Marty you are going the wrong way!” Melanie said with a slight panic in her voice.

“I know” “Hey get me out of here!!” Melanie screamed. She tried unlocking the door but it was childproofed. Then she took out her knife and pointed it at him He took out a gun and pointed it at her. “Yeah, I don’t think so, girly” He said with a chuckle.

--------------------------------------------------------It was 13 years later and Melanie was now 26 years old. She was lying asleep in the bedroom when she heard the bang. She wanted to get up and go check to see what it was but her hooks prevented that. Marty had put hooks through her skin and handcuffs around her wrists so she could not get out. Usually she was able to walk freely but she had acted up the week before so she had been like this for 4 days. Marty came into the cabin and glared at her.

“Marty this could hurt the baby!” She yelped as he started whipping her.

“Oh Mel you think you know everything!”

“No Marty I don’t! I can feel him kicking!”

“Well he better get used to the pain”. Melanie had been 8 months pregnant and Marty had not yet taken her to the doctor. This pregnancy was not by the choice of Melanie, It was Marty’s decision. “Goodbye” Marty growled.

Marty went to his real home with his wife Kate and their son Tom. “Kate, Katie where are you?” Marty said with a sing song tone.

“I’m in the living room with Tommy.” Tommy was 4 years old and had a very good life. He was loved by his parents and had many activities in his life. “How’s Lily doing, Kate?” Marty asked.

“Oh she is taking a nap in her crib. She is doing fine.”

Lily was 1 year old now and was also loved by her family.

“Tommy, look at what I got you!” Marty said while pulling a toy truck out of a bag.

“Wow Daddy let me play.”

“Okay but don’t be too crazy” Kate had no idea about the other side of Marty or about Melanie.

----------------------------------------------------------Thirteen years later, Kip, Melanie’s baby, was now 13 and he was living with his Mom in the cabin.

“Now Kip remember this isn’t a normal life okay” Melanie told Kip this almost everyday. She wanted him to know what real life was like and she wanted him to know that Marty was not normal.

“So what do kids do at school again?”

“They learn” “About what?”

“Well there are different subjects Kip. There’s math, science, history, and English.”

“What are those again?”

“Well math is what I was teaching you the-” “Oh I know that! 5+5=10! Right?”

“Yes Kip! Now science is very difficult. There are many different types. One scientist could study planets, another maybe the environment, medicines, or maybe even the human body.”

“Whoa I want to study the planets!” Melanie wanted to help him but she didn’t even know the planets. She was kidnapped when she was 13. She was only an 8th grader! “History, you know what that is right?”

“Right the history of our countries and other countries”

“Yes, and English. What's that Kip?” “That’s the language we talk?”

“Well yes, but in school it’s learning to read, write, spell, and do things like that.”

“I wish I could do those things.” Kip and Melanie were in the bedroom which basically consisted of chains on the wall, carvings and scratches, and blood. They were sitting freely on the floor but they were locked into the room. Melanie was trapped her whole life and had tried to escape many times but had always failed.

“I’m home!” yelled Marty from the other room. Kip and Melanie looked at each other in fear. “So what have you two sewer rats been up to today?”

“Just sitting here and talking” replied Melanie. She had to answer right away and always had to word her answers very carefully, but some days she couldn’t handle it and just went off on Marty.

“Oh really, about what?”

“I was telling Kip all about the different kinds of dogs there are.” Kip knew that his she had to lie.

“Well which one was your favorite Kip?” Marty asked. Kip had no idea what to say because he didn’t actually learn about dogs so he just said the only one he knew. ”uh, pitbull”.

“Pit bull!” said Marty in a very loud voice.

“Yes, that’s the one he loved,” added Melanie.

“I didn’t ask you!” He then kicked her in the back and she jumped.

“Well then, Kippy boy, maybe I could get you a pit bull” Kip wanted to jump up and down but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“That sounds great! Thank you!” The next day Kip heard a loud bark at the door. “Mom, Mom I think he is here!”

“Okay Kip but don’t get your hopes too high.” Marty came in the room, he had a bottle of barbecue sauce in his hand.

“Kip get against that wall!” Marty demanded. “Killer likes barbeque sauce so I’m going to slather you up in this stuff!”

Marty poured the sauce all over Kip and then he brought in Killer. Marty had him on a leash but that didn’t keep him from biting Kip. “Hey he’s trying to hurt me!”screamed Kip.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No!” “Well than what did you want?”

“A cute puppy!”

“Who do you think you are! You can not tell me what to do.

Never ever ask for anything ever again!” Killer had made Kip bleed from his thigh.

“Marty, Kip is bleeding maybe Killer should go” Melanie said in her sweetest voice possible.

Marty cocked his head at Melanie and glared her in the eye.

“FINE but only because I want to!” Marty was out unusually long that afternoon spending time getting Killer back to the dog fighting ring. When he arrived at home Kate was waiting at the door.

“Marty where have you been!?” She said with concern.

“Sweet Katie, you know that you don’t have to worry about me so much.”

“I know but its just nice to know.”

The next day when Marty was late again Kate started to get angry. So at the end of the school day she went to the school were Marty worked and secretly followed him after he left. He started to go down a dirt path into the woods. Kate decided it would be a good idea to call him just to see if he lied to her.

Ring ring.

“Hey” answered Marty.

“Hey Marty what are you doing right now?”

“I’m at Pat’s bar and grill getting a small snack, why?”

“Oh just wanted to know if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight, but now I’m not feeling so well. Goodbye.” Kate started to cry but she kept on following him.

He stopped at a nice looking wood cabin. Kate then zoomed off before he saw her. The next day Kate went back to the cabin while Marty was at work. She knocked on the door and heard nothing but a big thump. So she opened the door to find a dirty house with flies and a disgusting smell.

She walked around, “Hello is anyone here? I just heard a noise I know you’re here.” She opened the door to the room that Kip and Melanie were staying in. She saw Melanie and Kip. They were glaring at her with fear and happiness. Kate saw that Melanie was chained up with the hooks through her skin and saw

that she had many scars and bruises all over. She also saw Kip whose knee was bleeding and a swollen eye. Kate didn’t know what to do or say.

“Hello” said Melanie.

“H-hi” “What are you doing here?”

“Well I saw my husband come here yesterday and wanted to know what he was doing.”

“Who's your husband?” Melanie said with concern.

“Marty Jenkins”. Melanie just glared Kate right in the eye and didn't’ know what to say.

“Oh yeah I know him” said Melanie.

“Really? Well what was he doing here? Was he helping you?”

“Um not exactly….” Melanie told Kate what Marty was doing to her and Kip. She didn’t tell her that Kip was Marty’s son though, because she was already upset enough. “Umm ugh…………..”

It took Kate a minute to recover her thoughts. “H-how can I help you?” asked Kate.

“Just call the police but you need to go now! He’s coming soon!” yelled Melanie. Kate then left the house and as she was driving down the dirt path she saw his car approaching so she hid her head.

“HEY!!!!” screamed Marty as he opened the door to the cabin.

“Who was that driving down the path?!”

“What?” replied Mellanie.

“You know what I’m talking about Mel!” “No no I don’t.”

“Get up get up!” Marty unhooked and unchained Melanie and Kip and brought them into his car. When Kate got home she called the police and told them where to go. When the police got there they saw all the blood and torture devices.

They called up Kate, “Hello Kate Jenkins, there is no one in the house, do you know where Marty might have gone?”

“Ummmm no really, but I do know his license plate number, its 8967KL9.”

“Okay we will put it on the news and radio in hopes of someone calling it in” said the officer. Twenty minutes after they put out the report, someone called it in. Marty was at a burnt down gas station. The police got there within minutes.

They surrounded him so he could not escape.

“Marty Jenkins get out of the car!” They yelled.

Marty came out of the car with his gun against Kip’s head. “Marty put down the gun or we will shoot!” Marty pulled back the hammer and before he could pull the trigger he was lying dead on the ground. Kip and Melanie finally could be free. Kate never told her children the real story and asked the police to get rid of all the news about him.

Two weeks later Kip and Melanie had their own apartment.

“So this is what real life is like Mom?” said Kip “Yup, its pretty awesome isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Mom why did you run away from your parents in the first place?”

“Well Kip I really don’t like to think about it because it is really stupid, but they took away my TV and they wouldn’t let me sleep over my friend’s house, so I ran away in hopes that they would feel bad…”