The Basement Chronicles

The Basement Chronicles An Anthology of Brilliant Works from the Orange Creative Writers

OHS Classroom Anthologies Volume I

Ms. Brooke Smith’s Spring 2013 Creative Writing II and III Students: Front to Back, Left to Right: Katelyn Baity, Meleah Travis, Haylee Burton, Maddie Norwood, Tiffany Connolly, Beth Bryan, Magdalina Cummings, Brittany Hester, Alexandra Cavedo, Alexis Prebula, Paul Fox, Tyler Blalock

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Orange Creative Writers Orange High School Hillsborough, NC Spring 2013 - Creative Writing II/III Instructor: Brooke Smith

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ORANGE CREATIVE WRITERS Orange High School 500 Orange High School Road Hillsborough, NC 27278 (919) 732-6133 OHS Classroom Anthologies Volume I

Copyright Š 2013 by Brooke Smith All Rights Reserved. Printed and bound in the United States of America. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without written permission from the publisher, except where permitted by law.

Cover Design by: Paul Fox Back Cover Copy by: Maddie Norwood

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Table of Contents Katelyn Baity: Clandestine 7 Artifact (Excerpt) 12 Tyler Blalock: Like an Angel 17 Question/Answer (Poem) 24 Beth Bryan: Dirty Laundry 26 SharkNess Monster 31 Haylee Burton: Gloria 39 Tension 43 Alexandra Cavedo: LaGuardia 45 Tiffany Connolly: The Haunting

52

Magdalina Cummings: Tìr na nÒg

58

Paul Fox: Past, Present, Future (Excerpt) 68 A Feline’s Peril 70 Brittany Hester: So Twisted 72 I’m Still Human (Poem) 80 MadDIE norwood: The Grace of God

Elegant Verses and Crazy Poetry

81 85

Alexis Prebula: Home 88 The Worst Day 94

Meleah Travis: Grenade 97 The Basement Chronicles 5

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KATELYN BAITY Clandestine

She was only in her early twenties and looked as though words would sneak their way between her soft pink lips, but none came. Long thick waves the color of wet sand fell past her shoulders and looked as soft as an angel’s cheek.

Her small diamond stud earrings sparkled in the low glow of the building’s lights.

She walked steadily, calm, and confident. Her name was Eileen, but no one knew this as she entered the lobby that late evening as the sun sank behind the Alabama horizon. The lobby was filled with people conversing about multiple things.

A few wanting a job at that office, a few wondering how the other has been doing. Some were on the phone complaining about how it has been their first lunch break in days and they finally had the chance to get some food with friends.

Glass walls separated the workers in meetings from the visitors and people leaving and coming. A double sided elevator came down from behind another glass wall and stopped to open in the lobby. People flooded from the walkway from where it was located. Eileen approached the front desk as someone else began to walk away.

“Do you have an appointment ma’am?” The woman behind the counter spoke in a soft manner. Silence stretched between them for a moment. “Ma’am?”

Eileen searched her mind for the alias she was given. She peered past her bangs, “Elizabeth Scott, 5:30 appointment.”

The woman shifted through her papers spread on her unorganized counter, “Oh, yes. Mr. Wynter is waiting for you in his office. I’ll call him to let him know you’re here.” The woman picked up the phone and it rang a few times before a muffled voice came through. “Okay,” the woman looked back up at Eileen, “Mr. Wynter is notified Miss Scott. Take the elevator up to the top floor and his office is the one on the end of the hall to the left.” She smiled and Eileen nodded in response. Her hands glowed with sprinkles of sweat. She bumped the elevator button with her hip and stepped in as it arrived. Pulling her sleeve over her finger, she hit the 3 which then shined orange back at her and rode it up to the top of the building. Going down the hall, her footsteps echoed in the silence. White walls surrounded her and the tile floor which stretched on and on. She reached the door where a big “W” was staring back at her from the frosted glass. A blade slid from under her sleeve stopping at her fingertips. The door slid open splitting that “W” in half. The room on the other side contained a desk in the dead center

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with a black leather chair behind it. Eileen’s’ body went numb as she continued walking. No one would ever expect that innocent smile to be up to anything. Mr. Wynter turned in his seat. He looked directly into her eyes and it sent chills down her spine and made the hair stand up on the back of her neck when she realized what was going on a little too late. Figures stepped out from the corners of the room with their hands on the butt of their pistols and were ready to pull.

Mr. Wynter spoke with a strong devious smile stretched across his face, “Hello, Eileen.” ~ 48 Hours Earlier ~

The day began as Eileen waited for her first assignment. Eileen was 24.

Her eyes were a dull blue from being sleep deprived. Today was the beginning of a long trial to have a chance to shine. Eileen had recently joined a secret organization that was considered part of the government, although the rules between the two were not shared. This organization didn’t agree with many of the things the government did and acted on. The organization was just known as Clandestine, simply meaning secret. Eileen anticipated her name being called for her final assignment before being considered a part of Clandestine.

“Nervous?” A voice whispered behind Eileen. She looked behind her to see a quirky smile and deep brown eyes looking into hers, “My name’s Flynn, I’m here to get my first assignment too.”

“How did you...”

“You look like it. The way you’re standing, you’re picking at your finger nails constantly, and in the breaks between that, you mess with your hair. It shows how nervous you are and by my guess, you’re waiting on your first assignment like I am.” Flynn’s smile stayed quirky as he spoke. It didn’t match up with how he talked, like his smile was a cover up from something else. Flynn had dirty blonde hair similar to Eileen’s, he stood a couple of inches over her and appeared around 25.

Eileen looked down at her hands after being called out on picking at her fingernails and realized she still was, “Oh, I would have never noticed.” She smiled softly and looked back up at her new friend, “Well, I should be called up soon, so I should listen. It was very nice to meet you, Flynn. Maybe we could meet up sometime!” Flynn nodded and let Eileen turn back around. He handed her a slip of paper over her shoulder with his number written down on the inside and the words “Call me if you need anything” written under it. She smiled and stuck it in her pocket.

“Eileen Armstrong,” with only ten people or less watching her walk up in front of the room she still began to get nervous like she always did as a kid. “Congratulations for making it this far. You have one last thing to do. You will appear to be alone. But know this, people will be everywhere if needed. We assigned you to a big target. Mr. Kenneth Wynter. We hope for the best Miss Armstrong.

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“Thank you, sir.” The small room of people clapped for her as she walked back to her isolated corner where she stood earlier. Eileen caught her breath before she dared relaxed her grip on the file on Wynter, “I’ll being doing some research tonight, I guess.” She whispered to herself quietly as two more people went to the front of the room and back.

“Good luck to you all!” The leader of all these operations and the founder of Clandestine was Morgan Harding. He stood a little over six feet tall appeared to weigh less than 150 pounds, but his muscle was built in and hidden for when needed it, adding on at least 30 pounds. Harding was maybe 35 now. He started Clandestine when he was 26. Everyone looks up to him that has ever heard of him and says that it’s truly an honor to work for him.

Eileen drove home in her 2001 silver Toyota Camry. She felt like she could almost have relief after this long journey from rookie to having her first assignment. She lived about 25 minutes away from the office, in an old, run down apartment complex. She lived in apartment 202, the second floor, first door on the right. Inside she had a ceiling fan that made the lights flicker when it spun. There was a tv that had duct tape around the antenna to make it stand up straight, a sofa with holes patterning it sitting in front of it. Books were stacked up against the wall lining the room. There was a single bathroom connected to her bedroom. The kitchen was a miniature fridge, a stove you’d see at a campsite that can barely stand on its own, and a counter only three feet long with a small sink in the center.

That night, Eileen stayed up late memorizing everything about Wynter. He was 5’8’’, his hair was an amber color with streaks of light silver. His eyes were a dull gray. His smile in the picture looked forced, like he’d never known what happy really was. His age was 46, he was a billionaire, originally from Seattle. He now lived in Montgomery, Alabama. He made big money and spent big money. The details on his career were questionable. According to Clandestine, his real money came from illegal exports and he’s a threat to DC and to us. He’s powerful and hard to touch. It’ll take more than night or two of planning to come out without a hitch, but that’s all the time they have to prepare, Eileen has to get ready.

The following day, Eileen called in to make an appointment with Mr. Wynter. “Hello, this is the front desk of the Wynter Company. How may I help you today?”

Eileen stretched out on her bed with her laptop on her legs, “Yes, I would like to make an appointment to see Mr. Wynter. I have a- uhm...” she began to search for words, “sales pitch?”

The woman on the other end of line believed it and didn’t even take note to the questioning in Eileen’s voice. “Okay, and what’s your name ma’am?”

“Elizabeth Scott.” Eileen read off an email sent to her from Mr. Harding.

It told her what times she had options from being there so that people could be there to help her and it gave her an alias.

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“What time works best for you? We have a 1:45, 4, and 5:30 appointments available for tomorrow if you want something soon. Out next availabilities are two days from now at 2-”

“Tomorrow at 5:30 will be perfect. Thank you!”

“See you then, Ms. Scott.” Eileen hung up the phone and noticed her hands and begun to sweat. Her body was barely quivering, but she was now scared, enough to feel sick to her stomach. She reached out towards her laptop to begin replying to the email from Mr. Harding. It read:

Mr. Harding, I made an appointment for 5:30 tomorrow under the name Elizabeth Scott. It was the closest time I could get to the times you gave me. I hope people can still show up. If not, will you send me some advice? It would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for your time, Eileen Armstrong

She anticipated for a reply, worried no one would be there. Mr. Wynter is a large target, a hard to hit target. He has protection in every city in Alabama, every state in the United States, every country. He knows how to deal with these types of situations. It can’t be the first time someone’s tried to hit him. He has to be prepared.

That morning, Eileen woke up to see that no one had replied to her desperate email. She took a deep breath in and knew that either way the deed must be done. She had no clue how she would go about it, or if she’d come out alive.

Eileen slipped on some clothes after a hot shower and went out for an early lunch. 10:30am.

Eileen got back home and checked her computer, still no reply to the email. 12:00am.

She fell back asleep watching TV, got up and decided to do her hair and makeup. 3:30pm.

After finishing her hair and makeup, she checked her email again, one last time. Still no reply. 4:00pm.

She jumped in her car for the 45 minute ride and arrived at the Wynter Company. 4:45pm.

Eileen walked to the building with 15 minutes until her appointment.

She picked at her fingernails as she walked to the front door, a nervous smile stretched across her face and she took another deep sigh before entering. Ten more minutes.

Eileen had walked right into a trap. All guns were on her as she stared deep into Mr. Wynter’s cold eyes. “Not what you expected, Eileen, am I correct?”

“Not quite.” Eileen’s mind raced and she tried to think of every possible way to get out of this situation. None could occur. There were four guns, all pointed at her. Five people were in the room, six including herself. Wynter

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probably had a gun of his own. Before Eileen could even begin to come up with an idea on how to go about this, the door opens. A man with dirty blonde hair walked in backwards, wheeling a janitors cart in with him. he’s whistling along with whatever music was coming in through his headphones. Eileen hesitated to turn to see who their guest was.

“Are you the new janitor? See, my office shouldn’t be cleaned until closing time. You can leave sir.” Mr. Wynter twitched a smile.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I’ll get out of y’all’s way.” The janitor flung the cart around to walk out backwards as he did coming in. Eileen looked into the mans eyes and slowly formed a smile before she wiped it off her face. She mouthed the words “thank you” and the man walked out. Not even ten seconds passed by before Eileen stepped to the side and the janitors cart flung in, shattering the giant glass W into hundreds of pieces. The man walked back in with a gun pulled and aimed at Mr. Wynter.

“Why are you here?” Eileen backed up to stand by his side.

“I knew you would need help, whether you called or not, this is Mr.Wynter.

I read the email off Mr. Harding’s computer when I passed it by. He didn’t reply yet and it was almost 4:00 so I decided to come.”

“Thank you, Flynn.”

The startled Mr. Wynter stood from his desk and his guards looked at him nervously. “What are you doing standing there? Shoot! Shoot!” Wynter hadn’t been nervous before, but Flynn entering that room and pointing a gun at his face without him even blinking scared him. The guards stood there and Mr. Wynter cursed under his breath, “I said, shoot!” They took aim and Flynn took two shots before they could fire. He hit the two guards on the left of Mr. Wynter’s desk.

The other two were about to shoot and Flynn grabbed Eileen and pulled her to the ground with him. In that split second of reload time, Eileen stood up and pulled the blade from her sleeve. She lunged towards the two remaining guards as they took aim. Eileen slid towards the ground and rolled back up after the shot was fired. She considered killing the innocent men in the corner who were just following orders. But, before Eileen could stop herself, she stabbed one in the chest. She jerked the blade from the dying body and jabbed it back into the second man. Eileen cringed as she pulled back. Shock covered Mr. Wynter’s face.

“How? You’re the only ones to come so close. But, not close enough.” The shock fled an Mr. Wynter flashed a smile and reached out to grab Eileen. With no time to react, Eileen found herself with Mr. Wynter’s arm tight around her neck and a gun to her head. She began to struggle and Flynn kept the gun locked on Wynter.

“Go ahead, shoot. You’ll hit your little girly friend if you do!”

“How typical! Every bad guy in every movie seems to do this. They take someone and hold them at gunpoint just so they won’t be the ones to die. Pathetic.” Flynn locked his eyes with Mr. Wynters as he spoke, “if you seriously can’t think of a better strategy, you really just aren’t that bright. I don’t know how you succeeded like you did.”

“It’s because I use the old tactics, they work the best.”

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“Flynn, I know a way out of this, just don’t let Wynter out of your range.”

Eileen choked on her words and Mr. Wynter jerked her to make her quiet.

“Honey, this is men’s business. You’re just here for the prize, you could say.” Mr. Wynter laughed with a demonic smile stretching across his face. “Little girls should really just stay where they belong, Eileen.”

Eileen jabbed her blade into Mr. Wynter’s thigh and he let go of her.

“Little girl?” And as she said it a bullet from Flynns gun flew into his head.

Eileen and Flynn walked out of the building as the people continued on with their day, not knowing of the death upstairs that would change their life forever.

“Goodbye, ma’am!” Eileen waved back to the woman at the front desk.

“Have a great day, Miss Scott.”

Artifact (Excerpt from Novel in Progress)

It’s only 14 years after the world supposedly “ended.” I remember that day clearly, I was seven years old. The sky was filled with ash, a black sheet spread across every field. Coughing and shrieking overpowered the noise of destruction. Bodies blanketed the streets as they fell one by one. It was like every plague brought down at once. Locusts swarmed the area and every river and sea was filled with blood. The firstborn of every family fell first. Then, darkness spread across the world. Boils were found on every man, woman, and child.

Thunder and hail stormed down, every animal used for food, diseased. Flies, gnats, and frogs were found in every corner, in every city, in every breath. We were all starving and sick. Surely we all would die, surely. But, that’s not what happened. A man came from behind the smoke and debris. He rose from the ashes and declared he could save us. Everyone shook their heads in disbelief and in disgust. He rose a hand and paused. His lips moved slowly and his eyes were shut. As soon as he opened his eyes, he threw his hand down. All those who were too young to understand and those who still had faith that there was a Lord were healed. They stood and I stood. I walked towards the man with all the others.

It was like I wasn’t even in control of my body. We stood there for days, I never even noticed how hungry I was, how tired, I didn’t even notice the passing of my mother and father. I just stood. Before I knew it, people from all kinds of cultures stood before the man. Most of them were younger than age ten. Some were adults and some adults were holding newborns. For some reason, I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall to my knees and cry. Now that every man and woman that was what the man called “pure” were left standing and all the others were gone, he lifted his hand again. With the same whisper and shutter of his eyes, the plagues went away. The thunder ceased, the hail stopped falling. Gnats, locusts,

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frogs, and flies all disappeared. Light stretched out from the dark like waking from a long slumber. The boils on every person’s face faded. The animals cried out in praise as they walked again. But we all stood there. We had no applause.

I wanted to clap so terribly bad because this man had saved us all.

Green sprouted from the ground and rivers flowed clear water again. He performed miracles and then simply smiled down onto us. He stepped toward the crowd and joined us. As the land became new, so did we. Each one of us grew up working and starting new like pilgrims here for the first time. We made all our clothes and asked for nothing in return when favors were done. We have lived in peace for 14 years now. All because of that man. He’s still in the hearts of all of us, but we never get to see him where I live. He lives in the upper class part of the city we’ve created. People say he lives in a castle high up on a hill.

One day, I want to go see that castle and meet this man from 14 years ago. Rich people come down all the time and speak of the wonders he’s been doing. But, as I grow older I doubt more and more that he’s doing anything. My heart makes me question all of this. My mind tells me not to, if I tell anyone of my questioning and the wrong people find out, I’ll be a dead girl for sure. Every night, us lower class people get together for worship. We stand in a big circle and take prayer requests before lifting them up to Heaven above. We sing songs and dance and preach. Everyone finds it so normal, so usual. But I always feel something different. I don’t know how different, but different. I wonder if this is the way I’m suppose to feel. I wonder if this world is really perfect now. Has this man created his utopia and left us with the dystopia? ******************************************* “Good morning, Mr. Khelmer!”

“Good morning, Miss Kari! How are you?” Mr. Khelmer is the oldest man in our society. He was 46 when the man first came. He’s been spending his past few years working at the market and I work under him making trips to deliver or receive.

“Doin’ mighty fine! How ‘bout yourself? That fruit is startin’ to look old, are we supposed to have more come in today?”

“I’m just another day older, Kari. And, I believe so, but I really can’t remember. Did I write it on the calendar by any chance?”

“Let me go check, you just stay there and work the stand, Mr. Khelmer!”

And sure enough, it’s written on the calendar. Mr. Khelmer always has a hard time remembering things, so I bought him a calendar to write everything on. July 24, 3013: New order of all fruit. Ferry Harbor. “It’s here! I’ll head out and go get it, okay?”

“Be safe, Kari!”

And the day begins.

“Well, hey Harley, is your brother here?”

“Yeah, but he’s getting some stuff out of the back, let me get him.” Har-

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ley’s 15, his brother, Luke, is one year older than me at 18. He works at Ferry Harbor taking deliveries from the higher class society off a boat shipped over the giant lake that I can’t even see the end of. Luke stumbled his way down the dock with boxes stacked in his arms.

“Need help?” I ran up and caught a falling box from the top. As it fell, it revealed his deep brown eyes and midnight black hair. He laughed and put the rest of the boxes down.

“What’cha need today, Kari?”

I run my fingers through my thick black hair and let it fall back to the middle of my back. “Mr. Khelmer has an order that’s supposed to be here.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, I got it hold on, I saw his name somewhere. Just wait here a sec. Okay?”

Luke shuffled his way through the boxes and went back to the boat.

“Kari!”

I jerk around to see Harley falling into the water of the dock. He had two boxes stacked in his arms. I ran over and took the boxes from his arms as he fell back.

“Can you swim?” I yelled over his screaming.

“No-” Harley sank under the water and splashed back up with all his might. “Help!”

I lean over the dock and grab his arms as they violently thrash. “Calm down!” I shout as he continues to splash water into my face. It took all my strength to pull him out of the water while he keeps thrashing around.

“Oh, God. Kari, I thought I was going to die.” Harley paused for a moment and looks towards the boxes. “You saved the boxes first, not me. Why?”

“Without the food in those boxes, more than just one person could die.

Plus, I thought you could swim,” I shrugged my shoulders and smirked. Harley’s face beamed bright red and he picked up the boxes and carried on with normal business.

“What on earth happened? The dock’s all wet!” Luke came out with some paper and a pen twirling in his hand. When he saw the front of me and the dock soaked, Luke fumbled and dropped the pen and it rolled toward my feet.

“Your brother fell in.” Harley’s known to be a klutz, so none of this was a surprise to Luke.

“The foods okay, right?”

“Right.”

I bend over and pick up the pen and Luke gave my the paper. “You know where to sign, I’ll also help bring the boxes to the old man’s place.”

“Thanks, Luke.” I signed the paper and he walked back towards the boat to put down. I grabbed one of the boxes and nuzzled it between my arm and my side. I laid the bigger box in my hands and I started off. Luke wasn’t far behind with another big box for himself. “What’s in the small box?”

“I don’t know, nothing was on the paper about it. I thought you would know.” Luke shrugged his shoulders and looked down on the small box.

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We continued walking in silence until we reached Mr. Khelmer’s. “Welcome back, Kari! Good to see you are doing well as well, Luke!”

“Good morning, Mr. Khelmer. It’s nice to see you still moving around!”

Luke smiled at the old man and placed his box on the back table. He took the big one from me and put it next to the other box.

“Mr. Khelmer, did you order anything that’d come in this?” I held out the small box to show him.

“I only ordered two boxes worth of food, I have no clue. Open it and see what’s in it, if you want.”

“Do you mind if I take it home tonight?”

“You can do whatever with it, Kari. I didn’t order it, you can have it.”

Mr. Khelmer smiled a wrinkly smile. He’s only 60, but with all the events that had taken place, he looks a lot older.

“Then, I’ll get to work delivering. Have yourselves a fine day, Mr. Khelmer and Kari.” Luke waved and began walking back to the docks.

“And back to work for me as well, Mr. Khelmer!”

As soon as I got home, I looked desperately for my knife. I’ve always been the curious type, and now I’m dying to know what’s inside this box. The second I found it, a knock at the door made me jump. I hit my hand on the drawer, pulled out the knife, and threw it on the floor near the box.

“Ow,” A red line on my hand now throbbed with pain, “Hold on, I’m coming!” I ran over to the door dodging my random piles of things I had found.

I cracked the door and looked through, “Oh, it’s just you! I was scared someone had finally shown up to take taxes. Come on it, Luke!”

“I was just curious to see what was in that box. So, as soon as I got off work, I came here. Have you opened it yet?”

“Not yet, I was just about to though. Come on in!”

We sat on the floor and began to cut away at the tape. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in a plastic sheet with bubbles of air. I took it out and unwrapped it quickly.

“What it is?” Luke picked it up and fiddled around with it for a while. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t know...”

The object was spherical. It had strange markings covering it that looked like ancient writings from an old textbook I had found weeks ago.

“Hold on, I might know what it says.” I rummaged around for that textbook in my piles of found books. “Here! I found this not long ago and flipped through it. There was some ancient stuff in it that kinda looked like this.” I thumbed through the book until I ran across those writings and flipped the book around to show Luke “See?”

“If this is what it’s written in then...” Luke looked back and forth from the sphere to the book and back to the sphere again. “That means ‘Earth’.”

“Wanna stay over a figure this out?”

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Luke let out a slight smile and nodded, “Let’s get started.”

Maybe 30 minutes later we had a few bits and pieces figured out. “...

Field Around Earth...Control....Man. That’s all I have of this sentence.” I turned to look to see what he had.

He looked up and shook his head, “I barely have that much. I have plague, control, and man with several missing words in between.”

“What do you think it’s talking about?”

“Hell if I know. None of it makes sense.” Luke laid back on the floor and put his hands under his head.

“It’s getting late, you don’t have to stay any longer. I can figure it out and let you know tomorrow.”

“No, ma’am! I’m staying here until we figure this thing out or until it’s time for work. Whichever one comes first.”

I let out a sigh and put the text book on the ground in between me and his feet and laid back myself. “Wonder why this came in for Mr. Khelmer.”

Luke sat up and looked at the box again. “It says that it’s scrapped metal artifact. What the-” “Look!”

The sphere- or “artifact”- began to glow from the words and the top began to spin. A map of what looked like the world came from the light. It surrounded us and filled the room. There was a marker at the center of a piece of land labeled “England”. The marker read “Command Center.”

“What do you think it is, Luke?”

“Like I said earlier, hell if I know.”

I reached out my hand and touched the screen of projected light. A diagram pulled up. It listed names. They were names of the pieces of land labeled.

There had to be at least 100. There was either “Independent” or “Controlled” listed next to each one. I walked around in fascination until I ran into the artifact and the projection flickered and faded.

Katelyn Baity,

or just Katie, is currently a freshman in Ms. Smith’s Creative Writing II class. She grew up living with her mom, brother, and grandparents and going to her dad’s with her step-mom and step-sister every now and then. Katie was born in Durham, North Carolina and currently lives in the small town of Hillsborough. She enjoys spending time with her family and three miniature schnauzers and writes to music for inspiration. Katie prefers to write teen fiction and, sometimes, historical fiction. She has a hope of excelling in her writing career and getting a job as an animal trainer. Her dream is to eventually earn enough money to travel around the world as a missionary.

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TYLER BLALOCK Like an Angel

“This is Emily Wilson. Sorry, but I’m not here right now to answer the phone. If I know you, please leave a message, and I’ll try to get back to you.”

“Damn it,” I muttered in response, “Please just answer me…” I knew it was hopeless. That was the fourth time in a row I tried to contact her to no avail.

I began to panic and rapidly press the redial button, only to be greeted by the same familiar recording. The sound of my shoes creaking against the hardwood floor of her bedroom was the only thing that greeted my ears besides the lifeless, pre-recorded dialogue blaring in my ear. It was too late to do anything. It was too late, and I knew so, but was too determined to stop. I pressed redial one last time, and after three rings, someone finally answered on the other line. My heart skipped a beat, and I sat on the bed in stunned silence. After a few seconds, I managed to sheepishly mumble, “Hello? Emily?”

I remember the day I met her perfectly. It was a Tuesday some time in the middle of July. It was distressingly hot that afternoon, with the temperature peaking at the triple digits. I could feel my suit sticking to my back, and the sweat on my forehead kept sliding down into my eyes, forcing me to pull over on the side of the road in order to avoid the unnecessary risk of crashing while trying to wipe it away. I sighed in irritation, peaking at my watch. It was about 5:30 PM, and I was still twenty miles away from my apartment. I looked away from my wrist and started my car up, checking to see if the road was clear before I continued.

Another five minutes spent in the stifling heat passed. I looked ahead at the straight road, which at this point was desolate, deserted of any vehicles besides my own. In the distance, I spotted a woman to the right of the asphalt with her arm in the air. As I approached her, I noticed she had her thumb extended upwards; she was a hitchhiker. Normally, I’d just pass by her without a second thought, but something about her made me push down on the brakes until my car came to a stop a few feet away from her. She stepped over to the passenger door and opened it, poking her head in.

“Do you think you can take me to a friend’s house? She lives in Mebane,” she explained. Since my apartment was only a few miles away from Mebane, I told her I’d take her there. She thanked me and sat in the passenger’s seat, closing the door and rolling down the window. I glanced over at her for a moment

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before I continued to drive. Her hair was a shade of gold that, though faded, still retained an elegant luster. She kept her eyes hidden beneath a shadow cast by her bangs. Throughout her explanation, I assumed she was a stoic due to her straight face and seemingly hollow voice; however, as we made small talk during the drive to Mebane, I could see the emotion was there. Every now and then, I would crack a joke, and she’d give a little smile. It was subtle, but enough to break the mask of emotionlessness.

“This is close enough, you can let me out here,” she told me as we approached a stop sign. I obliged, and she opened the door. She stood beside my car for a few seconds, looking around; the city seemed unusually empty, but I blamed it on the foul weather. “Hey, what’s your name?” she asked, still looking from side to side for something.

“I’m Jonathan. Jonathan Rhodes,” I answered, “But most people call me John.” I wiped my face clean of sweat again and turned to look at her. The sun was beginning to set behind her, and it seemed to form a blazing halo around her head. For a moment, I thought I was looking up at an angel. After a few seconds of awkward silence, I stuttered a bit and asked her, “What’s your name?” She smiled at me before answering.

“My name is Emily Wilson.” With that, she wandered off in the distance.

I continued to watch in the direction she went long after she disappeared beyond the horizon of buildings. It wasn’t until an impatient driver stopped behind me angrily pounded on his horn that I remembered just what I was doing and swiftly took a left turn. I was embarrassed, but for the rest of the ride, I couldn’t stop thinking about Emily. She just seemed different from most youths I’ve encountered, she was so polite. I wasn’t sure if it was just her way of getting on my good side or it was genuine kindness, but either way, I enjoyed her company.

I arrived at my apartment at almost 6:00 PM. By then, the sun was halfhidden behind the horizon, but its vicious heat still antagonized the city. My stomach was growling louder than the engine of my car, but I needed to take a shower and get into some clean clothes first. By then, I had already forgotten about Emily, treating the rest of the day as if it were any other. I changed clothes, turned on a fan, prepared a sandwich with some cheap microwavable chicken, and sat on the couch, gazing absent-mindedly at the television. I took a single bite into the sandwich and immediately regretted it. I knew that this cheap garbage was supposed to be some pathetic imitation of something edible, but I didn’t imagine it tasted this utterly horrendous. I spat it out and, despite my stomach’s pleading otherwise, tossed the sandwich where it belonged.

I spent the night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan which was lazily turning clockwise in a way that produced next to no comfortable, cool air. I felt an intense pain in my chest, thinking it was my stomach’s way of hosting a lessthan-peaceful protest. Ignoring the pain, I turned my head towards my alarm clock. 1:07 AM. With a long groan, I curled up and tried to block out the pain, the hunger, and the irritating creaking of the ceiling fan above. Sleeping was always difficult for me, even when I felt like I couldn’t stay awake for a minute longer.

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Such is the everyday life of an insomniac.

I woke up even more exhausted than when I was trying to sleep. The alarm, notifying me that it was 6:30 AM, resonated throughout my small room.

I pulled the plug out of the alarm clock; I found that to be the simplest way to make the noise stop. I stepped into the bathroom, grabbing the container of pills near the sink - Aspirin. I remember having a brain-wrecking headache, I just wanted it to stop... The moment I swallowed the white, circular pills, my phone began to ring, as if I needed even more annoying, high-pitched frequencies making my ears bleed. Without looking for who it was, I answered.

“Hello...?” I mumbled groggily. I looked out through the window; the sun was hidden behind a mass of silver clouds, drifting slowly with the wind. I considered calling in sick for work, knowing I wouldn’t succeed, just to see what happened.

“Is this Jonathan Rhodes?” asked a fragile voice on the other side.

“Don’t see who else it’d be. Who’s this?” I questioned, already frustrated that they called without knowing it was me. I stepped back into my bathroom with the phone, looking in the mirror at my stubble, sighing at the realisation that I’d have to shave on top of all the other nonsense.

“This is Emily Wilson,” the voice responded. It contained the same amount of calmness and pleasantness as the first time she introduced herself.

Her voice sounded beautiful, only further reinforcing my thoughts of her being an angel.

“Sorry, just... you called at a bad time, really,” I responded, trying my best to sound kind and sincere rather than grumpy.

“If you want, I could call back later...”

“No, it’s fine, really!” I swiftly interrupted. The response was silent for a few seconds, but I could still hear the background ambience of her speaker. I figured she was considering whether or not to continue talking or hang up and attempt to call back later. “Emily...?” I asked, concerned.

“Do you think you could drive me over to my friend’s house again this afternoon?” she asked. “I’ll be the same place I was yesterday.”

“Don’t you have somebody else to pick you up?” I retorted. It was just strange that she was relying on a complete stranger to take her someplace two days in a row. I began to notice dust all over the window and started to wipe it clean with a towel; I tended to notice dust or dirt on things early in the morning, and I’d just impulsively want to clean it. I heard Emily sigh quietly.

“I don’t. My dad is going to be... busy for the next few days.”

“And your mom?”

“My parents are divorced. I live with my dad,” she answered, somehow speaking even softer than before. I guess I should’ve expected that, but for some reason, it came as a big surprise to me. I stood there, holding my phone, wondering what kind of home life this seemingly perfect girl had; her parents were separated, and she lived with someone who was too busy to pick her up from school. “So... do you think you can?” she asked again. I hesitated for a few

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seconds more.

“Sure, I guess. I’ll meet you on the same road at about 5,” I finally answered. I silently prayed that I wouldn’t end up as late as I was yesterday and keep her waiting for half an hour in the brutal heat, like yesterday. Briefly, I began to wonder why nobody else picked her up, but I quickly dismissed it, thinking everyone was already frustrated from the temperature and wanted to get to their comfy homes.

“That’ll be fine. Thank you, Jonathan.” She quickly hung up afterwards, before I could even tell her something like, just John is fine, or reassuring her that I’d be there. I put the phone back in its spot, headed back to the bathroom, and grabbed a bottle of shaving cream and a razor. It was going to be a long day at work before I needed to deal with Emily, anyway. *************************

I took quick glances at my watch was I drove home from work on my way to pick up Emily. It seemed that, with each glance, a minute would pass by with no regard for what was convenient for me. I may have spent more time looking at my watch than through my windshield. It’s not like there was much to see; like the day before, the road was bereft of other vehicles, and the sky was blanketed by dull, gray clouds which did not affect the heat in any way besides converting it into humidity. By the time I saw her silhouette in the distance, my watch displayed 5:23 PM. I cursed myself for arriving later than I promised even though it wasn’t entirely my fault, as the boss figured it would be a better use of my time to berate me for arriving a few minutes late. “I’m so sorry for being late, I didn’t...” I began to explain the situation as I opened the door for Emily.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she interrupted as she quietly sat in the passenger seat. As I peeked over at her, something seemed off. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was from the few seconds I looked at her because she turned to me and impatiently asked, “Are we going to go soon?” causing me to quietly nod and begin accelerating. Unlike the day before, very little was said during the drive.

The few times I did try to speak to her, she countered my conversation starters with brief, nondescript responses. I decided to stay silent and take brief glances at her to try and see what seemed so uncanny about her that day until I realized.

“Emily, you seem to be wearing more makeup than you did yesterday,” I told her. I noticed her tense up for a few seconds before turning away to look out the window.

“So?” she replied. “I just felt like it.”

“What for?” I asked. She let out a quiet sigh before responding.

“I already told you. I just felt like it.” Finding myself unable to come up with a decent retort, the rest of the ride continued in oppressive silence.

“Alright, you can let me out here,” Emily finally muttered as we neared a stop light. I began to slow down as I approached it, but it was still green by the time I reached the line. Pushing my foot down on the gas, I continued driving through the intersection. “What are you doing? I told you to let me out, Jona-

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than.”

“We’re over a mile away from where we stopped yesterday. With weather like this, you’re in no shape to walk that far to your friend’s house,” I explained. “Plus, I think you might be hiding something from me.”

“Mr. Rhodes, I swear I’m not hiding anything from you. She agreed to meet me around here,” she tried to explain.

“Then I’ll continue on this route until you see her,” I offered. “You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?”

“Jonathan, please. Let me out,” she pleaded, her voice growing more panicked.

“If you give me a good reason to do so, I’ll let you go. Emily, what’s really going on?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road and away from her.

“Nothing’s ‘going on,’ Jonathon. Let me out or I’ll call the police,” she responded. I glanced over at her only to be greeted by an upset and serious look in her eyes. It took me a few seconds to think it over, but I begrudgingly brought the car to a halt. Wordlessly, Emily opened the door and exited, slamming it shut and running off towards the sunset. After giving her a bit of a head start, I pushed my foot down on the gas and started driving in her direction from a distance. I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

The drive only took a few minutes, but I had to constantly take pauses and travel off-route in order to avoid being seen by her. She stepped into a driveway and started walking towards a house. Once I was sure she was inside, I slowly pulled in. The place seemed a bit rustic and out-of-the-way; the house itself was shielded by trees decorated with thick leaves, appearing an almost blue-green tint in the evening light. The grass, patched with dry, yellow spots, was overgrown, sticking out through the stones in the driveway. If you were looking at it from a distance, you’d hardly notice there even was a pathway of pebbles.

The building itself was, to put it simply... run-down. The faded brown bricks were cracked and broken, some torn out of place, leaving gaping holes as if somebody punctured the walls with a needle. One of the windows had a torn screen and was blanketed with a mixture of dirt and cobwebs; the parallel window was simply broken. The off-center door was tattered and unstable, and the doorknob looked like it was about to simply fall off at any given time. If I were to guess, I’d say even a well-aimed knock would push the door over. I opened the door to my car and took care to close it quietly behind me, and then I began stepping towards the house.

With every step I took, the gritty sound of my heel entering the pebbles and pulling out resonated louder and louder. My heart gradually grew more and more fast-paced, leaving a slight burning sensation within my chest. I paused in front of the rickety door and took a deep breath. I held my hand up, my knuckles mere inches from the door, ready to knock. A second went by, then another, then yet another. I tried to do a countdown from five, swearing to press my knuckles against the door and knock three times in a row as I reached zero.

Five... four... three... two... one!

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My fist was frozen in place, not moving from where it was before. I tried that method several times again, increasing the number I counted down from with each time, and yet my hand never moved. I couldn’t make myself knock.

I sighed under my breath, half in relief and half in irritation, and stepped away from the door. I wasn’t going to leave, still, but I knew I’d have to get in some other way. I stepped over to the broken window and glanced inside.

The room was dim -- so dim, in fact, that the silhouettes moving around inside seemed more like a source of light than obstacles obstructing it. I could make out two people, one moving around animatedly and another standing perfectly still, like a statue. Taking a closer look at the nonmoving one, I could see that it wasn’t absolutely inanimate, as I could see its head nodding softly. Inside, I heard shouting, but I couldn’t make out what it was. All I could hear was my own rapid pulse. I shook my head and tried to clear the thumping from my ears and listen to the conversation.

“Where the hell have you been for the past two hours? I told you, time and time again, you’d better be home by five or find some other place to sleep, because if you’re not here by then, I’m not letting you in!” The shouting was coming from an older man, the one shuffling around the other and moving his arms around angrily.

“Yes, I’m sorry, Dad, but...” a quiet voice began to say in reply. I could recognize it as soon as I heard it, that soft, calm voice like that of an angel’s.

Emily.

“Did I say I wanted your rebuttal?” The taller figure, that of the dad, suddenly jerked his arm back and brought it slamming towards Emily, slapping her in the face and nearly knocking her over. My hand balled into a fist and my teeth began to grit. “You listen to me, you little shit, you’re not leaving this house until I say you can.” Emily was on her knees, wiping her face where a red, tender bruise now rested. Listening closely, I could hear her weeping. “Come on, stop crying like a bitch and get up,” the dad demanded, driving his foot into her side.

I couldn’t stand to watch anymore. I ran back to the door, not caring whether or not my footsteps were heard. I tried turning the knob to no avail; it was locked. After taking a few steps back, I lunged towards the door and rammed it open with my shoulder. My arm pulsed and ached as a result, but I took no pause as I rushed into the room where Emily and her dad resided. I shoved the door open and saw the dad still kicking Emily, too distracted by his rage to notice me. I pounced on him, holding him down to the ground.

“Emily, run!” I managed to shout out before he pulled his arm back and slugged me in the gut, knocking the breath out of me and shoving me off of him. I turned to see Emily quickly running out of the room before getting up and facing the man.

“Who the hell are you?” he yelled, glaring at me with his fists raised.

Before I could respond, he began lunging at me, his knuckles slamming into my face with enough force to knock me onto the ground. From there, he began to pummel me, punch after punch colliding with my body. I looked around, unable

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to make out anything other than the blurry image of a hand slamming into me.

With what energy I had left in me, I grabbed hold of his arm and didn’t let go, managing to subdue him long enough to knee him in the stomach and push him away from me.

“Who am I?” I muttered, stepping away from him as he readied himself to continue fighting. “I’m your daughter’s hero.” With that, I sprinted towards him, gripping his neck with both hands as tightly as I could. I felt my fingernails drive deep into his skin as I strangled him, drops of warm blood running down them. As I choked him, I began to push him out of the room, carrying him along until his back was pressed against a wall. He continued to bash at my torso with his fists, trying to fend me off, but at that point I couldn’t feel the pain. All I could feel was anger.

I pulled him from the wall and tossed him onto the floor, grabbing hold of the first loose thing I could find, a chair. I picked it up by its legs and brought it down on his body. I picked up back up and brought it back down, striking him again, and again, and again, and yet again. I didn’t stop when I was positive he could no longer fight back. I didn’t stop when the chair itself began to break apart. I didn’t even stop when his tender, battered skin resembled raw hamburger more than skin. I couldn’t stop, not until I was sure he received enough punishment for what he did to Emily. I looked down at his writhing body. I heard his struggled and quick gasps for air. I could faintly hear him mumble out words of apology. Even then, I continue to strike. This was not enough punishment.

It wasn’t until the chair was completely broken in two that I stopped. I looked down at the body, no longer that of a human. What I looked at was some large wad of bloody, broken meat. A bloody, broken wad of meat that was no longer alive. I let the revelation sink in for a few minutes. I have just committed murder. There was no way I’d be able to get away with this, nobody who’d forgive me for doing this. Even if I tried to hide it, I’d eventually be found out. I dropped the half of the chair I was still holding and sat down next to the carcass of Emily’s father. I looked around the room and saw a cell phone resting on the counter. I picked it up and looked through it, thanking God as I found that Emily was added as a contact. I had to find out if she was safe. I pressed the dial button and held the phone up to my ear, wandering around the house as I did.

“This is Emily Wilson. Sorry, but I’m not here right now to answer the phone. If I know you, please leave a message, and I’ll try to get back to you.”

That was all I heard after listening to it ring for about twenty seconds. Desperately, I pressed dial again to the same result. I was starting to panic. I pressed dial a third time as I walked back into the room where I found Emily and her father arguing, Emily’s bedroom. Still, nobody answered the phone. There was nothing I could do besides press dial again, for the fourth time.

“This is Emily Wilson. Sorry, but I’m not here right now to answer the phone. If I know you, please leave a message and I’ll try to get back to you.”

“Damn it,” I muttered in response, “Please just answer me…” I began to panic and rapidly press the redial button, only to be greeted by the same familiar

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recording. The sound of my shoes creaking against the hardwood floor of her bedroom was the only thing that greeted my ears besides the lifeless, pre-recorded dialogue blaring in my ear. It was too late to do anything. It was too late, and I knew so, but was too determined to stop. I pressed redial one last time, and after three rings, someone finally answered on the other line. My heart skipped a beat, and I sat on the bed in stunned silence. After a few seconds, I managed to sheepishly mumble, “Hello? Emily?”

“Is this Mr. Rhodes?” answered an unfamiliar woman on the other line.

After a moment’s hesitation, I answered her. “We’ve already sent a police vehicle to the premises, it should be arriving shortly. If you can, please keep Mr. Wilson subdued until it arrives.”

“Who is this...?” I asked.

“This is officer Rebecca Trueman of the Mebane Police Department.

We’re here with Emily Wilson now.” I hung up and tossed the phone away. I began to walk back into the kitchen as I could hear a siren growing louder and closer. Looking through the dirty window, I saw the police car come to a stop and two uniformed officers step out, about to find me standing next to the man I murdered.

Jonathan Rhodes was promptly arrested and found guilty for the second degree murder of Riley Wilson. The argument of self-defense was found invalid as he used unreasonable force against Wilson.

He was sentenced to life in prison.

Question/Answer (A Poem) Side A: Question I see that mournful look in your eyes As you listen to the drone of cicadas’ cries The question that you’re afraid to ask Just how long must the suffering last?

Day after day, and year after year Continuing to put up with the fear Another failure, so start again where you left Wearing a smiling mask as you press reset

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Side B: Answer I can’t let this happen again Trying so much to no end Looking for an answer that doesn’t exist A temptation that I could not resist The closer I get, the harder I fall But I still go on hoping to end it all As I open my eyes to a brand new day I ready myself and prepare to replay

Tyler Blalock is a junior at Orange High School, amateur songwriter, and avid anime nerd. He signed up for Creative Writing I for his Freshman year but didn’t get into the class. Never one to give up, he tried again and successfully joined the class his Sophomore year, and now comfortably resides in Creative Writing II. His writing frequently draws inspiration from musical references and animated tales, and he sometimes inserts absurd amounts of alliteration at any given time. His stories tend to be dark and violent, although he tends to focus more on action than plot, much to his chagrin. However, his poetry, due to limited word count, tends to focus less on action and more on symbolism and meaning. Although he did wish to write several poems for the anthology, the requirement was at least one story, so he had to make due with what he could.

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BETH BRYAN Dirty Laundry

It was my first day as a pledge for the Sigma Chi Alpha chapter at Lincoln University when I met my lifelong best friend, Jimmy “the Bullet” Darowski. I have never been more terrified than that that day. I remember it just like yesterday...

“Alright maggots!” Shane cries, daring any of the pledges to contest his choice of words. The brothers snicker before Shane continues, “Today is the day that you become nothing. Let me explain the rankings around here.”

Shane points to one of the actives who pulls out a color-coded chart.

“You have El Presidente, that would be me,” Shane gestures to a picture of him on the chart, stretching to make himself taller and superior to us pledges.

“Then of course you have the actives,” the active brothers clap and hoot, “next, you have the various species of bug you may find on the floor, the dust beneath our toenails next. Throw in some more dirt after that,” he pauses, “and then there’s you guys.” Shane makes sure to take his time pointing to a picture of a bug, toenails, dirt, and finally resting on a picture of sad little stick figures with the word ‘pledges’ scrawled at the top.

“Wow, they really take this hazing thing seriously,” Jimmy whispers beside me. I nod.

A pledge behind me snickers, piquing Shane’s attention. Shane turns and struts over to the pledge, staring down the bridge of his nose at him.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny, Pledge, I do too.” He turns to the actives and grins, “But you know what I think is really funny?” The pledges gulp in horrified anticipation.

“I think that it’s funny just how many dirty football jerseys we have lying around. And we don’t even have any football players,” Shane pretends to be baffled. “Now why would I think that that’s funny, Toothpick?”

Shane turns to a guy in a flannel shirt with a toothpick in his mouth.

Toothpick, a two year brother, hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and says, “Wale... I doe no, Shane.” in a thick southern dialect.

“Waaale, Imma gonna tell ya why,” Shane jeers. Toothpick and all of the

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other guys chuckle.

“Becaaause, all ‘a y’all pledges are gonna wash ‘em.”

The entire pledge class groans in unison while the actives slap each others’ backs and knees, howling and laughing so hard that they have to suck air to regain their composure.

“Consider yourselves lucky, pledges. We piled them all at the top of the stairs so all you have to do is put them in these dandy wheelbarrows we so generously ‘borrowed’ for you from Pi Lambda Gamma,” Shane pauses to let the brothers boo their rival frat. “Take them to the laundromat...and break in.”

My eyes widen and bulge.

“You want us to break in?” asks a scrawny kid named Norman.

“Speak when spoken to, Pledge!” Shane yells, “and besides, a little B&E is good for the soul,” he laughs. “And just in case you try to cheat and take the load to your momma’s house, bring me something back to prove you were there.”

“The wheelbarrows are out back little pledges! Good luck.” An active brother calls.

Norman looks like he wants to protest but he doesn’t dare speak again.

Each of the pledges turn and walk up the stairs. I follow, walking in step with Jimmy who I met during one of our rush parties.

“So, you ever committed a crime before?” I ask, making conversation.

“Nope. Though I have had a few brushes with the law,” Jimmy replies jokingly.

“What’d you do?” My eyebrows raise, playing along.

Jimmy pauses, searching for the most ridiculous crime and comes up with, “Public urination.”

We exchange a look of understanding and bust out laughing.

“Hey Darowski and Narrota, let’s go! Grab a wheel barrow!” Connors yells, hurtling past us with two arms full of sweaty jerseys.

Jimmy and I head out back, with the sun just starting to set over the warm summer night. We each grab one of the wheelbarrows, leaving two more behind and start toward the front of the house. The other pledges come stumbling toward us, piling on the putrid clothes and running back for more.

“This is the last load!” Connors yells with relief. The brothers watch us from the window, howling and falling all over themselves. I’m sure the expressions on our faces are pretty hilarious. Unfortunately I am not in a position to enjoy the view. We head off into the dim light of dusk, Jimmy, Connors, Norman and I sporting wheelbarrows.

“It smells like the brothers sweat week old bacon grease!” Norman gags.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” I add.

“I bet they poured week old bacon grease on them just to make this more miserable,” Jimmy comments.

After a brisk half mile jog we reach the dark laundromat. The sign has

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gone dark and the road is deserted. In my experience, the security guards patrol on the other side of the street, and I used the word ‘patrol’ loosely. But just as I’m starting to think that things are looking up...

“Oh no,” Connors groans.

“What?”

“How are we going to get in? None of us have a lockpick do we?”

The four of us drop the wheelbarrows as we get the pledge class to put their heads together. After about five minutes of searching for solutions, the pledges begin to get discouraged. Billy, a new addition to the LU baseball team, thinking hard, fiddles with his thumbs...and something in his hand.

“Whatcha got there, Billy?” I wonder.

“Oh just a paper clip I found in my pocket.”

“Come on, man!” the pledges yell discordantly.

“Really?!”

“Shut up you guys!” Jimmy hisses, “You’re going to attract attention.”

Jimmy snatches the paper clip and begins working on the lock. After a while of picking and poking, the lock gives way and everyone hustles in, tossing clothes in machines and starting them up.

“Nice going, man.” I pat Jimmy on the back and he smiles, pleased with himself.

“You two go guard the door and warn us if any Campus Security dudes come by,” Connors orders. No one knows the guys first name. I laugh to myself, it’s probably Hubert.

“What?” Jimmy asks, noticing my quiet laughter.

“Why do you think we’ve never heard Connors’ first name?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Dude, I heard it was Milton!” His whispers chuckling as loudly as someone trying to be quiet can.

“Oh crap! We need quarters, does anyone have any quarters?”

Everyone pulls out their wallets and their pockets and all come up empty handed.

“Don’t worry guys, I always have quarters.” Billy smiles, pulling out three rolls of quarters.

“Dude, why do you have three rolls of quarters in your pocket?” Norman asks.

“I like those 25 cent gumballs,” Billy states matter of factly, “I chew them during practice.”

The guys furrow their eyebrows, but once again Billy has supplied us with the means to get the job done. He tugs at the end of the wrapping and when it won’t give, he rips it right down the middle, sending the quarters flying across the room. They clang and ring against the tile floor so loudly that I cringe and hope that no one heard. The pledges glare at Billy.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

We all pick up the quarters and put them in the machines, starting

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enough loads to be done in about half an hour.

The pledges each sit at the end of a washer, anxiously watching the clothes spin around and around and around. With every sound outside the door our heads snap.

“Can this thing go any faster?” One of the pledges shouts in frustration, kicking the machine.

Billy has his face pressed against the clear door of the washer, willing it to hurry up so we can get out of here.

“Hey you guys, what are we going to bring back to Shane?” Norman asks, “it’s not like we can take him a washing machine.”

“Well...” Billy starts.

“No, Billy!” The entire pledge class shouts.

“Campus Security! Get down!”

The entire pledge class drops down onto their stomach accept for one.

“Psyche! Those guys are probably riding around in golf carts eating doughnuts,” Antoine laughs.

The pledges begin chucking dirty jerseys his way and Antoine dodges, dropping to the ground and shaking with laughter.

“We thought we were dead!” Norman hisses.

“I know!” he pants, “It was all over y’alls faces.”

“Idiot!” Connors grunts.

A random jersey comes flying out toward the front door, heading straight for Antoine’s face. He looks up just before it hits him and ducks, but the jersey pelts the glass behind his head.

Suddenly two huge campus security guards whip their heads around, stop what they are doing, and sprint toward the laundromat.

“Grab the stuff and get out the back!” Connors shouts. He scoops the wet clothes into the barrels while everyone shoves through the back door. Norman wails and grabs a wheelbarrow while Jimmy and I follow suit-minus the wailing. We locked the door back but the guards are angry and red, sorting through keys like madmen.

“Let’s go!” Connor yells, knocking the back door open with his wheelbarrow. Norman is right behind him and then Jimmy. I scoop the last jersey into my wheelbarrow and go. The front door flies open and suddenly the short, squat security guard is on top of me. The wheelbarrow falls on its side and spills the jerseys all over the floor. The security guard pulls my hands behind my back and I hear the cold clinking of metal.

“You have the right to remain silent,” he starts, “Anything you say can and will-”

“Hey, Jelly Doughnut!” Jimmy calls from outside the front door.

The security guard grumbles and releases me. I crane my neck to find Jimmy, standing with one foot on the back of the second security guard. I laugh so hard that tears come to my eyes. The guard pushes my head back down, frustrated.

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“Your boy fell!” Jimmy tries for an innocent smile, but it just looks like he’s sneering.

“You get your dastardly foot off of my partner, you little hooligan!” Jelly Doughnut cries. I don’t have to look to see the stumpy little man shaking his fist at Jimmy to know he is. Suddenly I pick up on Jimmy’s attempt at a diversion and get up and silently jog out the back. I meet up with Connors and Norman and we head for the house. I glance back and find Jimmy down on the ground with both guards about to cuff him.

“Shiz!” I groan.

“Shiz?” Connors snickers.

“Shut up, Milton.” I jab. Connors eyes go wide and he shuts his mouth, halting whatever he was about to say.

“You guys catch up. I’ll see you back at the house.”

Norman places a hand on my shoulder, “You’re a good pledge brother.”

They both ditch me and run for the hills.

Cupping my hands around my mouth I cry, “Hey, Jelly Doughnut!”, finding the poetry of the situation.

This time both guards come running for me, realizing that I had gotten away. Jimmy pops up off the ground and slaps them both on the backside.

Stunned, the security guards whirl around. Jimmy bolts right through them and the two of us hit the ground running. The guards run for their campus vehicle but we are twice as fast as they are. Within moments we reach the house and slam the door shut behind us.

“Man you...run like...a bullet!” I laugh, relieved and breathless.

“Did you get the jerseys out?” Shane asks, worried.

An overwhelming sense of dread hits my stomach like a brick.

“The last barrel spilled when I escaped.” I admit, keeping my eyes on my shoes. The brothers stand eerily still. Then suddenly someone cracks a smile and the whole lot of them dissolve into laughter.

“Thank God!” Shane chuckles.

Jimmy’s eyebrows furrow.

“What?” He demands.

“Did you even check what was on the jerseys?”

The brothers snicker.

“Pih Laambda Gaamma.” Toothpick spits the name like poison.

“They’re about to get a whole lot of ‘philanthropy’ hours.”

The brothers walk off into the living room where the game is on. Jimmy offers a hand and helps me up. After the initial anger wears off we chuckle, then laugh hysterically.

“Narrota, Bullet ‘you comin?”

“Yeah...hey Shane, how did security know to look in the laundromat?

They patrol the other street,” I wonder, realizing that the two guards that we encountered were more than a little bit incompetent.

“Well, let’s just say that if you have to use the land line any time soon,

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don’t press redial.” Shane winks and disappears behind the noise of the game.

Jimmy and I shrug and throw an arm around the others’ shoulders, and just like that we were friends forever.

Years later, Jimmy would become the President of Sigma Chi Alpha and continue the tradition of screwing over Pi Lambda Gamma. The enemy spent the party season that year cleaning up trash on the highway because they had very ‘unruly’ pledges who one day broke into the local laundromat. No one ever learned what really happened that night, and as far as we’re concerned, we were watching the game the whole time with our loving active brothers.

SharkNess Monster

Little sparks flew from the tips of the flame like a swarm of lightning bugs in a frenzy. They turned cold into gray ashes that floated down from the sky as snowflakes and rested there in the grass with the dirt and sticks. She was mesmerized, her eyes locked on the glowing blue flame, buried beneath the raging oranges and yellows. She stared at the base of all of the light and heat. Ellie’s head snapped away from the fire when the girl beside her gasped loudly.

“Did he die?” She asked, her mouth agape.

“Nobody knows...”, Lilly, Ellie’s cabinmate said, “He disappeared that night in the woods. No one ever saw him again.”

“What’s your name?” Ellie asked, turning to the frightened girl beside her.

“Kathy,” she replied, her voice wavering.

“Well my name’s Ellie. Do you want a marshmallow?” Ellie took one for herself and stuck it into the fire. Kathy shook her head and looked down at her toes. The fire crackled and she jumped, nearly falling off of the log she was sitting on.

“Don’t listen to Lilly. She’s only trying to scare you.”

“Yeah well it worked, “ Kathy whined, “I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

“Anybody else have a scary story to tell?” Lilly grinned deviously.

“I’ve got one.”

All of the girls turned their heads to see Marcie, one of the older campers, speak up. Marcie was fourteen years old, and it was going to be her last year at camp.

“A few years ago,” she started, “when it was my first year, I met a girl who told a story about a monster that lived down in the lake. I thought she was just trying to scare us all by telling a bunch of lies, but it turns out she was telling the truth.” She paused to let her words sink in, “On the other side of the lake, a long, long time ago, there was an old research facility for sea creatures. These scientists wanted to see if they could make a fish that breathes saltwater adapt to live in freshwater-but they failed.”

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Beside Ellie, Kathy breathed a sigh of relief. Ellie heard a thud and then sparks flew up from the fire. Everyone jumped and gasped finding that it was just Ellie’s marshmallow, reduced to a pile of mush in the middle of the bonfire.

“Dang it, Ellie! You scared me.” Lisa took a deep breath to calm herself.

Marcie continued, “They failed with fish, but they succeeded...with a shark.”

The eyes of every girl there widened, aside from Marcie who spoke solemnly, “The scientist changed up the DNA of a shark by adding the DNA of all kinds of freshwater creatures and saltwater creatures. They used crocodiles, giant squid, whales, eels, snakes, and some even said a bit of the Loch Ness Monster. When they finally got it to work, they were so excited, they called their boss to tell him the good news.” She paused, “but they left the cage open. The shark croc squid eel whale snake loch ness monster escaped into the lake.”

Lisa gasped, Kathy quivered, and even Lilly sat wide-eyed, staring in horror as Marcie unveiled the end of the story.

“You can imagine a creature like this wouldn’t eat just normal, average fish anymore. Before the monster got loose, it took a bite out of one of the scientists, and he was left with a hook for a hand. This thing has had a taste of human flesh before, some say a whole lot more than just that time, and it waits for its next victim on the south side of the lake.”

“But we’re on the south side,” Susan whimpered, hugging her knees.

“That’s right Susan.” Marcie said.

“Well I don’t believe you!” Lilly yelled, suddenly feeling brave.

“Believe what you want to. It won’t matter very much when the monster comes and snatches you from your cabin.”

“What on Earth are you girls doing out here? It’s way past curfew. Get to your cabins now and go to sleep!” Mrs. Colunser snatched up the girls’ bag of marshmallows and escorted each of them back to their cabins. Ellie, Lilly, and Lisa were in the cabin closest to the lake and they were dropped off last. Each of them slipped under the covers of their little cots and rested their heads on their pillows.

“Hey Ellie?” Lisa whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Do you believe the story that Marcie was telling?”

“Not for a minute,” Ellie responded.

“Good,” Lisa yawned. Each of the girls slowly drifted off to sleep with bellies full of gooey marshmallow.

“Ellie wake up!” Lisa shoved Ellie’s shoulder back and she awoke to the girls’ panicked expressions.

“What? What’s going on?” Ellie asked, yawning and stretching. The girls all exchanged looks and no one said a word. They all looked too scared to speak, all except Lilly.

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“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe you guys would actually believe some stupid lake monster story. It’s impossible.” Lilly huffed and stomped away.

“What was she talking about?” Ellie demanded, crossing her arms.

“Kathy is missing,” Susan whispered.

“Susan woke up to get some water and when she went to get Kathy up to go with her, she wasn’t there,” Lisa explained.

“It just isn’t like her. Kathy is scared of everything! She wouldn’t go wander off in the woods by herself.”

Susan’s eyes started to water and her breathing became labored. If someone didn’t say something to calm this girl down, she would start to lose it.

“Okay, well, maybe Kathy got homesick and went to call her mom. She could be with one of the counselors right now. She could have gone to the mess hall to get some water just like Susan was going to do. We don’t know what happened so let’s just split up and look for her,” Ellie suggested, remaining rational and level-headed.

Lilly emerged from the path down to the other cabins looking vexed.

“So Kathy isn’t back yet. That doesn’t mean she was dragged off and eaten by a shark ness monster,” Lilly said insensitively. Susan sniffled, crying.

“That’s just great, Lilly. Why don’t you tell her stories about her dog dying now too,” Lisa suggested. At the mention of dying dogs, Susan hiccuped and sobbed.

“Why don’t we all just split up? Two of us can go to the mess hall and the other two can go get some counselors to see if she is alright,” Ellie said.

“There is no way I am going to that mess hall. The path goes right along the water and you could not give me a thousand marshmallows to go over there tonight.” Lisa took three steps back and crossed her arms, resolved.

Ellie looked over at Susan who gave a long, shrill groan in response.

“You guys are such babies. Lisa, you and Susan go to the counselors’ room, and Ellie and I will go down the dark, scary path to the mess hall,” Lilly decided, starting down the skinny path through the edge of the woods. Ellie turned to follow her when Lisa said, “Good luck.” Then headed in the opposite direction.

Ellie was about twenty paces behind Lilly when she was swallowed by the trees. They were old and gnarled and made her stomach twist into knots like they never had before. She tried to take slow, even steps and tell herself she wasn’t afraid but her skin began to crawl and with every step she took the more she wanted to bolt. A twig snapped in half on the ground behind Ellie and she sprinted up to where Lilly was, reaching her in five strides.

“You seem tense,” Lilly remarked, noticing Ellie’s labored breathing.

“We just heard a story about a freaky lake monster and now one of our friends is missing. That doesn’t worry you at all?” Ellie asked.

“Don’t tell me you believe it now, too. Marcie just wants to scare everyone because it’s her last year and she wants some attention. I’m not worried.”

Lilly stood tall, showing off her superior bravery.

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The girls reached the end of the woods and walked along its side near the lake.

“Good, then you won’t mind walking beside the monster on the way,” Ellie smiled.

“Not at all.”

The two of them walked in silence, pretending not to think the worst when they heard a squirrel in the woods or when the fish sent bubbles up to the surface. Suddenly, Lilly stumbled over a rock. She turned to right herself and she plopped right into the lake water. Ellie’s eyes widened and she leaned over the rocks just as Lilly came to the surface.

“Help!” She screamed, “Help! Something’s got my foot! Get me out! Get me out!” Lilly splashed through the water, panicking. Ellie slapped her hand onto one of Lilly’s flailing arms and wrenched her out of the lake.

Lilly gasped for air and dropped onto the dirt path. She stayed there on her hands and knees, trying to get her get her breath back.

“Not scared, huh?” Ellie mumbled.

“Don’t tell the others,” Lilly pleaded.

They walked in silence the rest of the way and when they arrived at the mess hall Kathy was nowhere to be found.

“You’re still not worried?” Ellie whispered.

Both girls jumped when the door hinges creaked. Their heads whipped around to find Marcie standing just inside the mess hall.

“What are you guys doing here?” She asked, puzzled.

“We could ask you the same question.” Lilly stepped forward. Ellie stuck her arm out to stop Lilly from her interrogation and added,

“Have you seen Kathy?”

“No, where has the little shrimp disappeared to?” Marcie asked, the picture of innocence.

“Oh, like you don’t know. This is probably all of your doing.” Lilly jabbed.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about.” Marcie said, starting to sound worried.

Lilly stared back at Ellie, looking for someone to help her accuse Marcie.

“So you don’t know anything about a little story with a shark ness monster?”

Marcie looked confused for a moment before she began to catch on.

“Oh that? Some older girl craving attention told that story on her last night. It’s totally bogus, I can’t believe you guys believed that.” Marcie giggled.

Marcie sat down on one of the chairs just as Lisa and Susan stumbled through.

“We can’t find her anywhere!” Lisa gasped, “We looked with the counselors and the room was wrecked. The beds were covered in algae and the floors had mud smears on them.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped in fear but Lilly and Marcie exchanged glances. Lilly spoke first, “Alright. Where did you hide Kathy?”

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“What?”

This time Marcie spoke, “Come on, you don’t honestly think we are going to believe your little fake story about the monster attacking the counselors, do you? I told you that story, I think I would know if my own monster was real.”

Ellie sat down at the table across from Marcie and took a deep breath.

She thought of all of the possible explanations for a trashed, muddy bunk.

“Marcie.” Ellie started.

“Yeah.”

“Your monster was part shark, eel, whale, and like Loch Ness monster right?”

“Yes.”

“So how could a monster, clearly made from sea creatures, suddenly be able to walk on land long enough to get over to the counselors’ room?”

The girls paused and thought of an answer.

“It wouldn’t. Looks like we caught them red handed.” Lilly set her jaw and stared annoyed at Susan and Lisa.

“It was the monster! There’s nothing else that could have done this kind of damage.” Susan objected.

“How do we even know that the room is messed up. They could just be lying about the whole thing.” Marcie spat.

“Fine,” Lisa complied, “we’ll show you. Then you’ll believe us.”

Lisa led the girls out the door when they turned and realized that Susan was no longer with them.

“Susan, are you coming?” Lilly called. Susan answered from inside the mess hall,

“I’m not going with you. I am going to stay here, in the mess hall, where it is safe from that crazy, creepy monster.”

“Just leave her. Let’s go.” Marcie said, continuing the path back through the woods to where the counselors slept. Ellie started to object, but before she could get a word out, the girls were already gone down the path and Ellie had to run to catch up.

When they reached the cabin, Lisa nudged the door open with her foot and revealed the room to the unbelieving girls. What was once the cabin where the counselors slept was now two sets of bunk-bed frames, torn cotton mattresses with stuffing floating in the air. The linens were green from the algae of the lake and all along the ground were brown streaks left by some kind of large animal that took its time getting out. Along the walls there were long lines of brown mud and the screen door that Lisa had just kicked was broken through at the bottom.

“Now do you believe me?” Lisa demanded.

Ellie stepped in and kicked aside one of the torn mattresses. There, mingled with the dark, murky brown smudges, was a hint of crimson red.

“I don’t think that’s Kool Aid.” Lilly remarked, stepping back.

“Let’s get out of here.” Lisa jogged away from the cabin and halfway

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down the path back to the mess hall.

“I’m still not convinced that there is a giant monster going on a killing spree.” Marcie said when they caught up with Lisa.

“What more could convince you. The room is trashed, Kathy is gone.

Does someone have to die before you open your eyes?” Lisa shrieked. This time instead of backing her up, Lilly remained quiet.

“Look. My old camp counselor, Meg, used to tell us a story about the older girls who weren’t coming back the next year pranking everyone else. I’m sure that is just what this is and they got Kathy and the counselors in on it.”

Marcie resolved.

Rather than trying to convince her otherwise, the girls let Marcie believe what she wanted to. They headed back to the mess hall and called for Susan.

“Hey Susan, where are you.”

No response.

“She’s gone.” Ellie stated flatly.

Tears began to pool in Lisa’s eyes, and then Lilly’s.

“Lilly, You too? You’re the one who is supposed to be smart. There is no lake monster. It’s a lie. That’s all.” Marcie repeated the words over again trying to convince the girls, but the more she said them the less she began to believe them.

“Just stay calm. Freaking out won’t do us any good. I think that we should go back and find a phone. We need to call someone to come get us out of here, and warn the others.” Lisa sniffled.

“If we split up, we’ll find a phone quicker.” Marcie offered.

“No way. The last time we split up Susan disappeared. Our numbers are dwindling.” Lilly crossed her arms.

“Go in pairs. Marcie and I will take the path back to our cabin beside the lake. Maybe one of our cell phones has a signal.” Ellie ordered, “Lilly and Lisa, you two go back the the main building where we all check in and see if you can find anyone still around to help us out.”

The girls went their separate ways down their respective paths. Ellie and Marcie stared down at the water, glaring at every bubble, wake, and sign of movement. They reached the end of the path beside the cabin when Marcie grabbed her ear.

“I lost my earring.” She said sounding horrified. Marcie turned and sprinted down the path before Ellie could do anything to stop her. Ellie continued into the cabin and grabbed her cell phone. She searched for a signal and came up empty handed. She found Lilly and Lisa’s phones, one was dead and the other was useless. Ellie decided to go in search of the other cabins. She reached the next one and opened the door.

Ellie gasped. The mattresses were shredded, the floor was brown, the linens were green. Tears welled in her eyes and Ellie began to sob. She could no longer come up with an explanation for this. She ran to the next cabin and then the next and each one was reduced to debris.

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“Marcie!” Ellie screamed, a strangled cry.

Lilly and Lisa appeared from behind the trees, their eyes wild with panic.

“The phones are down.” Lilly said. Her tone was defeated and she was resigned, which frightened Ellie and Lisa more than her fear could. Ellie plopped to the ground and put her head in her hands, letting her tears fall freely. “This is impossible.” She groaned.

“It certainly is.”

The girls all whirled around and blinked through their bleary eyes to make sure they heard right.

“Kathy? Susan?” Lisa muttered in disbelief.

“We thought you were dead.” Lilly breathed. Suddenly the entire camp began to file out of the woods, including the counselors.

Mrs. Colunser started apologetically, “So sorry girls. We only meant to frighten you a little bit, we had no idea that you would believe the story so wholeheartedly.”

The girls sat, dumbfounded. They were so convinced that there was no monster, and then later that there was. Now, just as they believed they were going to die, they suddenly realize that it was all just a prank. Ellie was angry, angry that the camp counselors would allow the other campers to enjoy her fear in this way.

“Maybe it would have been less believable if you wouldn’t have torn all of the cabins to shreds just to give us a scare.” Lisa shouted, outraged.

“We didn’t destroy any cabins.” Kathy stated.

“Yeah you guys did,” Susan chimed in, “Lisa and I found the counselors’ room ripped up pretty badly...”

Marcie scanned the grass beside the woods for her earring. They were a gift from her grandmother and she would be in huge trouble if anything happened to them. She laughed to herself, imagining how utterly freaked out Ellie must have been. Marcie had played her part perfectly, but then again she’d always been a great actress. She even slipped in the part about older campers doing it as a joke. I told them what was going on, she thought, and they still couldn’t figure it out. Marcie spotted something shiny out of the corner of her eye. She leaned down to pick up her earring and slipped it back into her ear. She stood up and heard three little drops hit the ground behind her, then heard a kind of moaning sound. Initially she thought that maybe the girls had turned the prank around on her, but when she whipped around to laugh in their faces, she came eye to eye with something she’d never expected.

Its body was covered in slimy, green algae, its teeth were murky razor blades in endless rows, and its tail wriggled on its own, an eel with electricity crackling and snapping in its mouth. Marcie stepped back and her foot rested on a loose rock. It gave way and she landed hard on her tailbone, now at the mercy of the monster. Its crocodile legs carried it forward and its head belonged to that of a great white shark. Its tiny eyes it bored into Marcie. She breathed slowly, in

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and out, and she remembered that sharks smelled their prey. She tried not make any sounds or sudden movements as the monster moved forward. Marcie heard a hissing sound and out from behind its crocodile legs, came two giant, thick, striped snakes. Marcie was paralyzed with fear. They slithered through the air, spitting their forked tongues at her, their glassy, soulless eyes trapping her there.

With a surge of survival instinct and courage, Marcie leapt up from the rock she had been sitting on and began to sprint. Before she could get two steps away, something strong and slimy wrapped itself around her leg, a tentacle. She went flying toward the ground and her head collided with a rock. Everything went dark.

Beth Bryan is a sophomore at Orange High. In her leisure time she enjoys playing tennis, tennis, and much more tennis. She plays soccer occasionally and reads very rarely. Beth goes through life making as many puns as she possibly can and biding her time until the weekend comes and she can get a full eight hours of sleep. She enjoys science, math, and gym classes and despises english classes, but somehow enjoys writing. Right now she doesn’t know what else to say about herself. Beth Bryan has no idea what she wants to do in her future as a career, but she knows that she will have a dog and hopefully she will be doing something she loves. Sometimes, when feeling wacky, she speaks in the third person. Beth Bryan is awesome-enough said. I am Beth Bryan, and I approve this message.

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HAYLEE BURTON Gloria

In these woods, it seemed like I was walking on a dark road with only a few street lamps to keep me from wandering off. The “street lamps” happened to be parts of the treetops where sunlight would peek through every couple steps. The floor was covered in crunchy leaves and damp pine needles that echoed loudly around me with my every step.

To my left, I heard a motor nearby. I cut my eyes in that direction, pulling the red hood to my jacket over my head and holding the basket of goodies tighter in my hand. Inside the brown woven basket were cough drops, throat medicine, NyQuil, some brownies and a get well card for my best friend. Her name is Alice - she’s sick with the flu. My heart broke when I spoke to her on the phone this morning. Her voice was cracking and she couldn’t stop coughing, but she said she was very grateful when I told her I was coming to visit.

I sighed and looked around. The narrow path I was following had big, thick trees on both sides with almost no gaps in between. Branches rustled above me and shadows skittered across the floor at my feet. Spider webs shone in the little rays of sunlight and deer grazed close by. It was peaceful as a cool breeze flew by, blowing my hair in the wind. For just one second, I couldn’t see. When I opened my eyes, there stood a lumberjack. He was dressed in the typical red and black plaid button-up shirt, jeans and boots, with the red beard and all.. He had his big axe swinging by his side, smiling at me.

“Um, hello,” I said awkwardly, trying to walk by him.

“Hello there, little lady,” he said in a southern twang. “Where might you be going?”

I didn’t respond. The only answer was a gust of wind that rustled leaves all around us.

“Do ya need a lift? I don’t mind, I can give ya one.”

I shook my head. “No thank you, sir, I’m almost to my destination.”

“C’mon, you’re deep in the woods, I don’t wanna let nothing get you.”

I sighed and looked around. In front of me all I could see was more of the path that I was supposed to follow. My gut was starting to twist itself into knots as I became more and more nervous. “No, really, I’m alright.”

He pointed up a steep hill. “My van is right up there. It’s not too far from here. I’m sure I can save ya twenty minutes of walking!”

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“No... really, I don’t need a lift. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be somewhere,” I told him sternly, bravely walking past him.

My breathing slowed down after walking for another ten minutes or so. I looked back every once in awhile to make sure the lumberjack wasn’t following me. I could hear cars on the road that was just up the hill to the left of me; it was a comforting sound. If anything or anybody tried something, I could just run up there and flag someone down.

I stopped to check my basket of goodies and re-organize everything that had fallen over. I popped one of Alice’s mints in my mouth and continued walking.

“Funny seeing you here,” said a familiar voice. I looked to my left and gasped quietly, causing the mint to painfully go down my windpipe. The lumberjack stood upon the hill, a big white bulky van behind him. I doubled over, hacking my lungs up to get this tiny mint out of my esophagus.

As much as I didn’t want to, I cried for help. My voice was strained and barely comprehensible, but the lumberjack must have noticed. He slid down the hill on his side and wrapped his arms around me from behind, balling his fist up and pushing it underneath my rib cage, holding my arms tightly at my sides. He picked me up and started dragging me up the steep hill; I began to kick, but I couldn’t scream. The lumberjack smelled like sap and apples, a scent that will forever nauseate me.

I was panting loudly, my legs flailing as I tried to break free. He opened the back doors to his van and threw me in the dark place roughly. He shut the doors behind me, leaving me to cough repeatedly. My stomach began to ache as I clutched it, sitting on all fours. Finally, I heard the mint hit the side of the van and I could breathe again. I sat against the wall, wiping my forehead. I still smelled of the lumberjack. My stomach churned. I crawled over to the doors to try to open them, but they were locked. Immediately, my heart began to beat faster. It thrummed behind my ears loudly, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Was I just kidnapped? Oh my gosh, I was. I am. I’ve been kidnapped, oh my gosh. Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh. I felt the van start to move. Oh my gosh.

I felt tears pull at the corners of my eyes; I blinked furiously - I wouldn’t let myself show fear. I hurriedly checked my pockets for my phone, but it was gone. It must have fell out when he was dragging me up the hill. I’ve been kidnapped. What do I do? C’mon, think!

I noticed the one small window on the side of the van where light was filtering through. That’s when I saw some sort of chest. It was brown and faded and had “Chester” written in blocky letters on the front. I saw that it was unlocked. No... my consciousness said. But... it’s unlocked, I replied. My curiosity got the best of me. I got down on my knees and pulled it open. A putrid odor immediately filled the small space and my eyes began to water. The light from the window shone perfectly on the chest and I saw hair... Hair? I opened the chest a

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bit wider and saw that there were... body parts. Rotting body parts -- a head, an arm, a leg, a torso. A scream rose in my throat.

I didn’t notice that the van had stopped moving. I shut the chest and quickly sunk down into a corner, trying to hide myself in the darkness. I pulled my hood over my head, the basket of goodies forgotten on the hill. Suddenly, the lumberjack’s - Chester’s - face appeared in the window. He grinned, his yellow, cracked teeth on full view.

“Sorry, little girl, but you’re not goin’ nowhere anytime soon!”

My blood ran cold in my veins. His voice rang in my ears, a sound that would haunt me in my sleep. I clapped my hands over them and put my head in between my legs, taking deep breaths in hopes of calming myself down so I could find a way out of this situation. The doors are locked, so that’s not a possibility...

I thought. The window is too small for me to get out of... I pulled at my hair.

My mind was racing - I won’t see my family again, my friends... I never got the goodies to Alice, who was so excited to see me.

Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. I bowed my head and pressed my palms into my closed eyes until I saw colors.

“C’mon, ya young’n,” Chester said, opening the back doors, blinding me with light. I refused to move, so he hopped in the back, making the whole vehicle jostle with his weight. I curled into a ball, wrapping my arms tight around my knees. He forcefully yanked my arm and tugged me up, dragging me outside into the sunlight. I looked around to see if anyone was close by, but it appeared that he had taken me to a dull warehouse building. Chester guided me inside, stirring up dirt and dust with each step he took. I coughed and pulled at his hand trying to take back my arm from his crushing grip.

“Hey now, quit that!” Chester growled while squeezing my forearm, his fingernails digging into my skin. I whimpered and thrashed around. “Alright, I didn’t wanna have to do this...”

He crouched down, holding my hands behind me and pulling a roll of duct tape out of his boots. I took the opportunity to stomp on his toes; he didn’t even flinch. Steel-toed boots.

“Dadgumit! I told you to stop!” Chester yelled, now holding me by the hair. I yelped as pain exploded in my skull. I closed my eyes and pursed my lips to prevent myself from screaming anymore. I felt something sticky touch my wrists and I knew what he was doing - duct taping my hands behind my back so I can’t fight back. He did the same thing to my ankles and carried me bridal style over to a chair sitting in the middle of the warehouse. Above me was a skylight for the sunlight to come through, but this one was covered in pine needles. The whole warehouse was dim.

Chester tied a rope around my waist three times and knotted it tightly. I couldn’t even wiggle without it burning my skin. He smiled at me before turning around and exiting the building.

“HELP!” I screamed, my lungs burning. “Someone help me, please!” A tear rolled down my cheek. “Please...” I sobbed.

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“Hush up!” Chester yelled from a distance, his boots scuffing the floor. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, composing myself.

“What are you gonna do to me?” I asked him pitifully, my voice raw.

He grinned devilishly, one arm behind his back. “You’ll see, sweetheart,” Chester whispered, walking behind me and running his hand through my brown hair.

“Perfect color... Too long...” He pulled out a pair of scissors from behind him and began chopping my hair off, it falling all around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it flutter down to the floor silently. When he was done, he jerked me back by my now shoulder-length hair and whispered warm in my ear, “Pretty girl... My pretty girl...” Chester ran a hand down the side of my face with his rough hand, clammy with sweat. A sob wracked through my body, ripping out of my lungs, my whole torso shaking. Suddenly, a hand struck the side of my face; I gasped, wideeyed and breathless. “Quit cryin’!”

“Why are you doing this?!” I roared.

“Ya better hush up!” Chester retaliated, his nose inches from mine. I could make out every feature of his face: the freckles on his cheeks, dirt on his forehead and the food still in his beard. His breath was wet as it hit my face, his nostrils flaring as he looked me dead in the eye. “Just shut up!” He hollered. “No more...”

The duct tape was pulled back out of his boot. He ripped off a piece with his teeth and carelessly stuck it to my mouth. Then, his eyes softened as he gently touched his hand to my cheek. “My pretty girl...” He murmured, turning away from me. “Almost ready...”

Tears were leaking hot out of my eyes, dribbling down my neck and onto my pants. A muffled scream escaped my mouth. I shut my eyes tight, images of my friends and family playing like a movie across my eyelids. When I opened them, the axe hit.

Chester was smiling from ear to ear, showing no mercy for the girl he just beheaded. A sickening thud echoed throughout the warehouse as her head fell behind her, eyes wide open, lifeless. She was staring at the ceiling - his pretty girl was.

He wiped the blood off of his axe and set it aside before picking up her body, blood gushing from where her head used to sit. It was warm and sticky, covering everything it possibly could. Chester toted her body easily to the corner of the room where he soaked it in gasoline before chucking a lighter into the mix, it catching on fire immediately. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. He kicked the chair over and picked up the girl’s head, her blue eyes boring holes into his.

Chester walked outside to his van happily, her head in his hand. He opened up the old worn down chest and threw her head into it before shutting it and carrying the heavy thing back inside. He laid it down on the dusty floor and began to take the parts out of it: one brown arm, one pale arm, one tan leg, one dark leg, a white male torso, and finally a white head.

Smiling, he put all the body parts together. It created a small girl, about

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fourteen or fifteen years old. “Oh, Gloria...” He whispered, looking at his creation. “I’ve missed you...” Tears came to his eyes as he looked at his daughter.

“So pretty...”

He picked up the duct tape he threw across the room earlier and began taping the body parts together, some of them at awkward angles. The left arm was hanging off because it’s end was still slick with blood; the two legs were bent in towards each other; the head was crooked, but he didn’t care. He had his daughter back.

“Gloria...” He kissed her cheek once, twice, three times. Chester looked around at the body burning in the corner, almost worn down to ashes. “Gloria, are you... lonely?” He grinned, sitting her up against the wall. He cupped his hand around his ear. “What? You are? You want a... playmate? Do ya, sweetie?

Oh, don’t ya worry... Daddy’s gonna get you one. I promise.”

Tension (An Excerpt from Story in Progress)

“Don’t you walk away from me, young lady!”

I massaged my temples and sighed.“Mom, not right now. I have a headache. Can we do this later?”

“No we cannot! We are going to talk about this. Why on Earth do you have a D in chemistry?” My highly disapproving mother yelled, catching me by the shoulder and turning me around. “It’s that boy, isn’t it?”

My jaw dropped. “Are you really blaming Jarrod for my grade?”

My mother shook her head yes, her brown curls bouncing each time.

“He’s a bad influence on you and everyone in this town knows it! Smoking and drinking... A hellion, that’s what he is. Disgusting. You should know better than to hang around boys like him.”

“Are you kidding me right now? My grade is my fault, not Jarrod’s, not yours – mine. You wanna know the truth as to why I have a D? Oh, I’ll give you the truth. I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been having nightmares, Mom...” My breath caught in my throat as I prepared myself for what I was about to say. “Nightmares about Dad!”

My mom placed a hand on her heart as if it physically pained her to hear about him. “Alice! You know we don’t--”

“Remember him? Of course you wouldn’t! You forgot about him whenever you saw something – no, someone – you liked. You drove him to drink! Wanna know what else you did? You drove him to drink and drive! He was coming home from the bar for you because you called saying that you couldn’t deal with handling Ella anymore! Do you remember where he crashed, huh?”

“Alice Lee!”

“He crashed right up the road from here! He went through the windshield! We all went to his funeral and cried for him, but guess who didn’t? You!

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Because you were messing around with someone else already, planning to get married! You threw away all his stuff without asking Ella and I if we wanted anything to remember him by! I was four, Mom! Four! I don’t even remember what my own father’s voice sounds like, what he looked like--” “Shut up!” My mom roared, raising her hand and slapping me hard across the cheek. The wind was knocked out of me as I bent over, cupping my cheek.

“Mom!” Ella cried from the staircase. She scrambled down them two at a time and immediately came up to me, holding my face. “Are you okay?” I nodded numbly, my cheek still stinging. Ella whipped around to look at our mom dead in the eye, pointing a finger right in her face. “Don’t you ever touch my sister like that again.” Here she was, only 12 years old and defending me.

Mom had a hand placed over her mouth, tears falling down her face. “II’m sorry...” She tried to walk towards me but Ella blocked her path. “Alice, I’m sorry!” She whispered, another tear rolling down.

I stood there with my mouth open staring at the brown-haired woman.

“Alice... Please, I’m sorry!”

Haylee Burton is a soon-to-be junior attending Orange High School.

She enjoys any science class, creative writing, and Latin. She is 16 years old and she has three siblings; an older sister, an older brother, and a younger brother.

One day she hopes to be a published author, whether it be an actual novel or just a poem. When she leaves high school she hopes to go to college and major in English. Her favorite thing to do when she has free time is watch a movie or hang out with friends. Her family and friends mean everything to her and she knows that she is truly blessed to be living the life she has.

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Alexandra Cavedo LaGuardia

A shade of dark green and the earthy brown of the outside world are a blur as she stares out the rain splattered window; her back turned towards me.

Long black hair drapes over shoulders; static between the seat makes a few strands cling to the worn upholstery. I wonder what she’s thinking. Her gaze upon the edge of the road is interrupted as I clear my throat. She looks at me, only for a split second, then settles back into the seat and closes her eyes. Lids heavy, she slightly opens her mouth as if she would speak, but hesitates, holding it in.

I take my eyes off her, focusing on the road. I increase the speed of the wipers, hoping they’ll make it across town before the rain gets too heavy. Total darkness and silence of the night creeps in; my headlights are dim, barely shining even one hundred feet ahead. I clear my throat again and stretch my arm down between the two seats, searching for my soft pack of Marlboros.

The girl adjusts in her seat, I’m sure she’s fast asleep. Her face is now turned in my direction, as if she’s watching me through closed eyes. *************

Errrr Errr... Errrrrr.

I’m startled by the noise, and shift my eyes over towards the girl. She’s awake.

We haven’t made eye contact since I picked her up over one ninety miles ago.

She keeps her attention on the dashboard; ignoring me.

Errr... Errrrr Errrr .

The CB buzzes again, must be important. I mumble ‘excuse me’ under my breath and pull the radio from the rear-view.

“Yep.”

“Boss we got, we gotta little emergency.”

“Hmph.”

“Johnny and David got into arguin’ and the police came. They’re sniffin’ around the site. I dunno what all the company got over here but Ion’ like the look of it.”

“Alright.”

I look over at the girl. He eyes are fixed on my, slightly informal name tag.

“What’s up, Boss?”

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The corner’s of her mouth turn upwards. I can’t help but grin.

“We’re gonna take a little detour.” *************

Dim, blue lights send silent signals into the misty morning air. I vaguely remember this place, almost like I was here once before in a dream. Boss lugs the giant wheel of the Mac to the right, slowly inching us onto Houston Street.

He cracks his driver’s side window and quickly catches a glance at me. I turn, not wanting him to see the excitement within me.

Boss is the kind of man that most women would portray as the truck driver of a ‘90’s horror film. He has dirty stubble on the lower half of his face, which grows thicker on his defined jaw line. His eyes are a consuming, dark green; the calm before the storm. Dry tuffs of dirty blond stick out from under his ball cap. He constantly rubs the base of his left index finger with his thumb, as if something is missing. Most women would think I was insane for ever hitching a ride with him. They would insist that my death is right around the corner; that he would take me out into the middle of nowhere and have his way with me.

Fortunately, most women are wrong.

I see Boss as a normal guy, your typical Joe. He picked me up because I was out on the highway alone with a drawstring backpack and a paper bag bottle pressed to my lips. I wasn’t waiting for a ride; to be honest, I don’t know what I was waiting for. Maybe I was waiting for him. *************

I pull the truck to a steady halt and take one last look at the girl before focusing on the blue lights drawing attention to my site. She looks interested, almost like she wants in on the action. That beautiful, crazed look in her eyes makes me want to let her in on my story, but that never worked out for me in the past...

“Wait here.”

I adjust my cap and trust my balance as I jump out of the cab.

“Boss!”

I see Mason running toward me, his stupid expression already jerking my nerves.

I groan as I notice Johnny and David face down on the dirt, straddled by two pigs. The site looks tore up. Both Porta-potties on their sides, a digger backed up into the tool shed exposing the safe room. My stomach sinks.

“Boss! Them pigs are wantin’ to get into the safe.”

He’s out of breath; his beer gut poking out of the end of his stained a-frame. The strong smell of bourbon burns my eyes, as I glare at his dirty five o’clock shadow.

“You boys been drinkin’?”

“We was earlier, not anytime recently..”

“Who backed the damn digger into the shed?”

Mason lowered his eyes to my shoes. As he looked back up he caught a

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glance of Jade in the cab.

“Who the hell is she?”

“Who backed the damn digger into the shed?”

I grab his shoulder and walk the both of us towards the back of the trailer.

“Now look here, Mason, we got bigger things to worry about. I can explain the girl later, but its got nothin’ to do with you so for the meantime, don’t mind it. On the other hand, it is your business to tell me who backed the damn digger into the shed exposing my safe.”

“Well, to be honest, Boss, it was me who backed the digger into the shed. Johnny was havin’ some problems with his lady last night and we all decided we could have some fun campin’ out on the site. We got us some Wild Turkey and things got a little crazy. The....”

Before Mason could finish, the two pigs start jogging in our direction. I see Johnny in one car, and David in the other. Neither of them have made any eye contact with me.

“Hey, you boys..”

I feel a hot sensation tingling in my hands. I tense up my back and my neck, I clentch my fists at my sides. The skinny one gets to us first, the fat one a few feet behind him.

“You boys mind coming down to the station and answering a few questions?”

He makes a gesture to the shed. A feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me they got into the safe. I open my mouth to talk, but the fat one taps on the cab door with his billy club.

Despite being out of breath, he calls the skinny cop over and they both look up into the driver’s side window at Jade, who has both of her middle fingers pressed against the glass. Mason looks at me and nods. We move in unison. *************

I had no idea what was going on out there; the inside of the cab was almost soundproof. Throwing up two birds must have been a secret trucker signal because as soon as the cop’s attentions were on me, Boss and Mason started choking each of them out. I’ve never seen two average-sized men beat up two police officers; I’ve never seen anyone beat up one police officer! Once they looked unconscious, Boss dragged the two of them around the construction site fence, and I’m not sure what happened after that. Boss’ friend comes running from a busted shed door, holding a metal box and jumps in the driver’s side door.

I move to a small bench seat behind the driver’s, out of the guy’s way. Boss ignores the two workers in back of the police car and hops in the cab. He bumps the truck into reverse and we peels away, leaving a dust storm to cover the (probably) dead policemen. Surprisingly, I’m not as disturbed by the potential murder as I should be.

It’s silent, and I want to know what is going on; what’s in that safe?

“Hi, I’m Jade.”

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I held my hand out towards Boss’ friend, but he ignored me. I tap his shoulder, still nothing. I put a hand on the back of Boss’ neck, he jumps.

“I’m sorry...Boss?”

“Mason, this is Jade.”

“Hi,” I hold out my hand again. He shakes it and shifts his upper lip revealing a gold tooth.

It’s quiet again and we’re apparently getting on the highway. North, towards Bronx. *************

“The safe won’t broken into.”

“Good.”

“What are we plannin’ on doin’?”

“I don’t know yet. Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. Where did you find this girl anyway?”

“She was walking around drunk near LaGuardia Airport. I saw her as I was leaving getting on the interstate.

“You gotta stop carin’ about random ladies, Boss. Now we have a witness that we don’ even know if we can trust. An we gotta haul her around actin’ like nothin’s wrong.”

“She’s not that type of girl.”

“I’ve heard that one before...” *************

It has almost been twenty four hours since I left LaGuardia with Boss.

We’ve been on the road now for about four hours, the murder at the construction site still fresh on my mind. Mason is fast asleep, looking quite comfortable with his dirty work boots propped up on the dash; meanwhile, I’m still cooped up in the bench seat. Boss rubs his fingers against the steering wheel, deep in thought.

I press my chest to the back of his seat and wrap my neck around his to whisper in his right ear, “Hey...”

He grabs the wheel tight, startled, “Hello.”

“Can we stop and get some coffee? I want to get out and stretch my legs.”

He tilts his head towards me, the stubble of his cheek brushes mine. I feel something in my stomach turn, and I pull away. There’s an eerie look in his eye I haven’t noticed before.

“No.”

His response shocks me. I suddenly feel like I’m in danger. Where are we going? *************

I don’t know what I’m doing. Everytime I meet a woman who seems to have a free spirit like mine, I lose it. I want to take her along, show her the open road, show her she has nothin’ to be scared of. But that has only ever got me in trouble. ...Maria...I met her the summer after I graduated high school. She was my wild

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one, my main squeeze. We moved into a cabin her grandparents left her on the outskirts of Buffalo. I worked at a sandwich joint during the day, she worked the laundry at night. We spent a lot of time apart, which was ruining our relationship. One day, my manager offered me an obscure job. He didn’t give me too much information, but said it paid thirty five dollars an hour and gave me a notecard with a name and an address. I thanked him, but said I wasn’t interested.

When I got home that afternoon, Maria had already left for work. I sat around and twiddled my thumbs until I got the urge to walk to the address on the card.

When I got there, an old man named Kyle answered the door. He shook my hand, it was all professional. After hearing the details, I agreed to take the job. I walked towards home, knowing that in two weeks, I would be making over 1700 dollars a week......but also knowing that I would be transporting 5 tons of illegal weapons each week as well.

That night I waited up for Maria. I told her about the weekly pay and that we would be moving furniture shipments for a company out of Philly. She didn’t ask any questions, and instead threw her arms around me and began to cry. She told me she loved me and had been waiting for an opportunity like this.

I was only able to keep the secret of the weapons for a month before she asked to look in the trailer. I couldn’t tell her no. I couldn’t lie to her anymore.

I let her see for herself, and I told her everything. She acted like nothing was wrong for the next few days; I began to think she could be my partner in crime.

It was a Tuesday night, mid January. The black ice on the road was thick and Maria wasn’t comfortable driving through into Jersey. We stopped at a motel. She told me she was going to the lobby to look at brochures, but when I went to join her a few minutes later, she was on the pay phone. I heard her loud and clear; she was giving the name of the motel, the plate number of the truck, my name and what I was transporting. I just stood there, dumbfounded. She turned around and.... I was gone. I left everything; her, my belongings, my heart. I left everything behind, to save myself and this damned company.

Ever since then I’ve been on the run. My pay was significantly decreased by the company after I let them in on what had happened. Their minor connection with the government is the only thing keeping me somewhat safe from being arrested at any given stop. I can’t take the risk of stopping in a public place with Jade. She could do the same thing, and if another incident like the first one happens again, I’m done for. *************

It’s been two more hours and we haven’t made a stop besides on the side of the road for the guys to pee. Everytime I ask a question I am ignored or told to shut up but Mason. Neither of them are talking, not even to each other.

I’m scared now. I thought about asking to get out, as if this were the place I was hitching a ride to...but I have no idea where I am and would probably have to hitch another ride. I reach in my drawstring bag for my cell phone. Maybe it’s been off for long enough that it has a little battery. I hold the button down, pressing the speaker into my leg to muffle the sound, but the flourescent light of

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the ‘on’ screen catches Mason’s attention.

“You won’t be needin’ that, girl.”

“I was just checking the time...”

“It’s a clock right up here.”

The tone of his voice is numb as if he was still drunk or on some type of drugs.

“Actually, can I get out here?” I whisper, half hoping they didn’t hear me.

The truck starts to slow down; I see Boss’ hand shifting the gear lever; my heartbeat races. I’m ready to jump and run as soon as he opens the door for me...but instead, the two of them get out and slam the doors behind them. I shift up into the passenger seat to see the two of them standing side by side, peeing off into the darkness. I have fifteen seconds to act. I grab my bag from the back seat and silently open the driver’s side door. Boss’ footsteps ring in my ear as I sprint to the back of the bed. If I can stay back here without being noticed until the both of them are in the cab, I can make it into the woods alone. The break lights on the truck ease and the tires begin to roll forward. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders, the smallest bit of relief seeps into my mind making it easier to think. I’m halfway to the woods when the truck comes to a screeching halt. I stop dead in my tracks, completely surprised by the yell of my name into the musty midnight air. Mason’s lanky figure moves in the distance, from the cab to the ground, towards me. I hold my breath and take off towards the woods, getting closer and closer to the tree line.

It’s much darker in here, I almost feel like sitting down and letting them find me. I feel weak. A sense of remorse creeps over my shoulders like a thin blanket; I should have never wandered off that night. I should have never quit my job and spent the last of my cash on a bottle of liquor. I should have never trusted a stranger.

My legs are scratched and bruised. I’ve been running for what seems like hours and can no longer hear Mason’s heavy footsteps. I decide to catch my breath behind an old, rotting oak. The ground is damp and soaks through my jeans as I sit. My hands are still shaking, my lungs cling to cool air. I notice the heaviness of my eyelids and they begin to close. *************

“I knew this would happen!”

“Shut up, keep looking.”

“Wait ‘till the big boss gets a load of this. You’re done for it.”

“Shut your mouth, Mason. You’re gonna be in just as deep.”

I can’t believe she actually got away without us noticin’ at first. It blows my mind. I’d be impressed if my life wasn’t on the line. If the company finds out there’s a witness of our wrongdoing on the run, they’ll kill Mason and I both. The thing is, this time it’s not about the weapons. It’s about a murder of two men in uniform and a safe holding over 800k of counterfeit bills.

“Boss.. there she is.”

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His whisper was low, I could hear the corners of this dirty mouth turning upwards as he spoke.

“Maybe we shouldn’t...”

“Shut up, this isn’t up to you anymore. It’s us, or her and since I’m in on it now and I aint ready to die, it’s gonna be her.” *************

Long black hair drapes over her shoulders; a few strands clinging to the wet bark of the tree. She twitches in her slumber, clutching her drawstring bag.

I’m sure she’s fast asleep. Her face is now turned in my direction, as if she’s watching me through closed eyes.

Mason rips the pocket knife from my belt, tearing my attention away from her. Something in my mind is telling me not to let him do it. To do the right thing and set the girl free.

“You ain’t the man you used to be, Boss.

“You never knew the man I used to be.”

I turn my back, and drown out the whimper of Jade’s rude awakening. I imagine the struggle and begin walking into the darkness. The feeling of weakness is present throughout my body. What have I become? *************

“Hey lady..Hello..Hey lady!”

“Yes....?”

“Can I give you a lift?”

“Depends where you’re goin’”

“Towards the Bronx” “Sure.”

“So what’s your name?”

“Jade”

“Pretty name.”

“Thanks.”

“Where ya’ headed?”

“Nowhere in particular, I’m just looking for something new...someone new, you know?” “.......Yeah.”

ALEXANDRA CAVEDo, Aly for short. I love writing, traveling, and the great outdoors but after seventeen years, I’m still not sure what I want to make of my life. It could be anything as simple as being on a local radio talk show, to owning a food van and driving across the country through all major cities. On a more realistic viewpoint, I always told myself I would become a nurse and work with babies. I want to make sure that I live my life to the fullest, no matter what I decide to do. I want to enjoy going to work every day and I never want to be that adult that people talk about as a mean old witch. For the rest of my young years, I plan on enjoying my summers and focusing on school during the off seasons.

I want to go to college by the beach and travel to Europe as much as possible.

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Tiffany Connolly The Haunting

“Sarah, it’s time to get your butt up and stop being so lazy. It’s 8 A.M. Sarah, seriously get up!” My sister yelled from the other side of my door, banging on it violently. She keeps claiming that we’re always late to school, when in reality we’re just late to her because she barely gets any time to see her friends.

I couldn’t care less about seeing my friends in the morning. I decided to roll out of my bed and flung open my bedroom door and looked down the hall.

“Claire, I’m up you can leave me alone now, you better hope to God you didn’t wake up Tallie or Mom is gonna get ticked off. Jesus, Claire, why do you always have to be so annoying?” I said in a hushed tone.

Claire jumped out of her room and looked down our hallway at me. The hallways in our house are very dimly lit by a few lanterns, we just about never turn on the actual hallway light because that costs money, money that my parents don’t have right now. We’ve been saving our money to pay off all of the costs from my mother’s child birth hospitalization. Our new baby sister is about six months old now, she almost didn’t make it when she was born; that took a toll on my mother. She’s been home ever since then and hasn’t really left the house, she want’s to make sure that Tallie is alright. My mother acts a little paranoid sometimes, saying that Tallie isn’t going to make it to her first birthday; which is why she stays home and just about never leaves the house. That, and the fact that she doesn’t trust anyone else with her baby.

I went back into my room and slammed the door, “I guess it’s time to start a brand new day at the Wilson house.” I said to myself as I walked slowly over to my closet and pulled out jeans and a tie dye t-shirt. My regular wear unless I need to dress up for something fancy, or unless I’m really trying to impress a boy. My mother always said to be myself around boys though, and that they’d like me better if I was just myself. Little did she know that that is definitely not how it works anymore.

I quickly threw on my clothes and grabbed my grey Tom’s from my shoe stash, I love my Tom’s more than anything in this whole entire world. They’re always so comfortable and I could wear them with anything, I was even bold enough to wear them to a fancy ballroom party once. Those were the good ol’ days when my parents weren’t penny pinching. Now since my mother lost her job, we don’t have much income besides what my dad brings in from random

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jobs; Mom was the main income until she got laid off. I grabbed my raggedy old bag and threw it over my shoulder, heading outside of my room door. I walked down our hallway past my sister’s room to my baby sister’s room. She was still asleep thank God, I couldn’t handle my Mom having another freak out day. She’s been struggling to get over what happened when Tallie was born, so she stays home cooped up in her room for hours on end. I step in closer to my baby sister and notice that her blanket is on the floor, as if it was thrown off of her. I pick it up and tuck her back into her crib and pet her head. I proceed to walk outside of the door until I hear a small thud, the room was eerily quiet, I could hear my heart beating a little faster and I peered over the edge of my baby sister’s crib and saw that her blanket was on the floor again. She didn’t move her position, but the blanket was still on the floor. I picked it back up and put it on her, tucking her in once again. I noticed the window was open and the wind was blowing roughly, so that was probably the cause; even though I didn’t hear any wind. I closed the window and walked out of her room slowly making sure the window didn’t open again.

I came downstairs, grabbing a bagel for breakfast and quickly shoving it down my throat and swiftly making my way to the front door.

“Claire, I’m going out the door, get your butt down here now.” I yelled from the bottom of the stairs; by this point I didn’t care if I was loud or not. I stepped in front of the mirror that was downstairs next to the door. It had a petite table with a rounded key dish on it; this was always my favorite part of the house.

The mirror was always clean and sparkling from the sun glaring in through the windows, it had a gold swirl design as its frame. I looked at myself for a moment, dazzled by my eyes, they were always the best part of me, and everyone agreed.

My eyes are a sparkling blue that protrude through my dark brown hair that is always getting in my face. I glanced over my shoulder and thought about yelling again, but instead I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. I got in the car and turned on the engine, waiting for my sister to come out of her room.

“I love how she complains about me always being late and yet she still isn’t ready; so typical,” I said to myself as I waited. I looked in my rearview mirror and fixed my hair. When I looked back I noticed there was a person walking down the road, covered in a heavy brown raincoat. I couldn’t see his or her face, but it creeped me out. I called my sister and told her to hurry up before I dragged her out of the house, literally. When I got off the phone I looked back and saw that the person that was walking was completely gone. I turned my torso back around when I heard a tap on my window. I figured that it would be Claire telling me to unlock the doors, but it wasn’t.

In a startled hurry I locked my doors, the person that was walking around with the heavy brown raincoat was right next to my face through the car door window. His eyes were bright yellow, with slits that looked as though the eyes belonged to a cat. I shuddered as his hand lifted up and tapped on my window again. He had a face warmer that covered his nose and mouth, he acted like it was below ten degrees outside when it was rather hot. He stared at me through

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the window, but I didn’t budge, too horrified to move an inch. I slowly turned on the engine and waited for him to do anything. He stood there, his eyes getting narrower, his body turning to an offensive stance as if he would attack my car.

The front door flung open, and Claire stepped out, I screamed for her to get back into the house, but when I looked back through my window, the man was gone. “

You’re such a freak, Sarah. I don’t want to be late again, let’s go!” she said in an annoyed tone.

“I swear there was someone there...”

“What. Ever. Just let it go.” she held up her hand and looked at her nails.

This girl was way too much girl for me to be around. I backed out of my driveway and headed down the road to our school, West Brooke High. It wasn’t an average school by far; we had an amazing football team that has won states 10 times in a row. Our golf team was pretty good too, but not as great as our softball or baseball team. “We hold our student athletes to the highest honor and distinction; as if they are playing in the big leagues,” our coaches always told us.

Even if you weren’t in a sport, West Brooke High aimed for excellence, and only accepted the best. You could come in a misfit and come out a future President of the United States, or a CEO of some big business. There were a few though, who didn’t succeed.

So far my day was pretty normal, to the extent of normal at this school.

My first period was Chemistry, I don’t like that class, but I have no other choice than to pass the class with an A anyway. Second period went by fast, but that’s only because it was study hall, and I usually spend my time with my best friend, Katherine, during that time. We hide out in the back of the Library and just talk.

Third period rolled around and I had gotten through it, U.S. History is a great class, I just don’t like the teacher that much. My fourth period was just lunch, I didn’t really have a fourth period either, I had gotten most of my credits out of the way my first two years at this school. By fifth period, I felt like this day was going too good for me, by now someone would’ve accidentally shoved me or I would’ve fallen up the stairs, but none of that’s happened today.

Sixth period was my worst subject of all, I had an 84 in that class; it’s a disgrace to everyone I know. I quickly moved into my seat next to Katherine and opened my English notebook quietly.

“There’s a sub today, you can relaxxx.” Katherine said to me.

“Oh awesome! So how’re you and Johnny? Still going out or what?”

“No, no we broke up last period because I thought he was too ‘clingy’.”

“Oh, you just didn’t like him anymore then,” we both laughed and looked around the room for more boys she could intimidate with her beauty. She had long flowing black hair and bright green eyes with specks of yellow in them. Her skin was olive, a soft olive that made her look like she was glowing. All the boys swooned for her every time she walked into a classroom. The substitute walked in and I recognized him in two seconds; it was the man with the heavy rain coat and face warmer.

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“Settle down everyone,” he said, staring straight at my face. I couldn’t help but feel unsettled when he looked at me. “You there, what’s your name?” his crooked finger raised itself to my desk.

“I-I’m Sarah...” I look around the room and everyone is already working on their work before he’s even said what to do. I twist my body in Katherine’s direction and jab my finger into her side.

“Ow..” she mumbled fiercely, giving me a dirty look.

“That’s the guy who tapped on my window!”

“Who? Mr. Lu? I’m pretty sure last I checked he didn’t have bright freakish cat eyes. You’re just way paranoid.”

“No, I’m not! And that is NOT Mr. Lu!!! I swear Katherine!”

“Okay, okay relax child! Like honestly you’re screaming at the top of your lungs!”

I looked around and noticed everyone’s eyes were on me and Katherine.

I looked to the front, and just like Katherine said, Mr. Lu was the substitute today. I could feel my face heating up and turning bright red in embarrassment. I shoved my head into my books and started doing the work that was assigned to us. Katherine gave me a stern look and went back to her work, giving me looks when she thought I wasn’t looking. When I got up to be dismissed from school, I looked at Mr. Lu one more time just to be sure, and I saw exactly what I had seen at the beginning of class. The man in the heavy rain coat. I dashed outside into the student parking lot and fumbled around my purse for my keys. When I pulled them out I dropped them on the pavement, the sharp clang of the shiny metal hitting the pavement made me cringe. I quickly swooped down to grab them and when I stood up, the man was right in front of me. I screamed at the top of my lungs, but before I could scream for help he wrapped his hands around my mouth and took my keys from my hands. He threw me into the front seat of my car and he got into the side of my car and handed me my keys back.

“Drive.” he said to me. I started the engine and began to drive towards home. He shrugged off his jacket and took off his face warmer to show me his face. People from other cars were looking into my car with wide eyes. I glanced to the side and tried to mouth the words

“Help me...” and they just looked at me like I was crazy.

Tears were streaming down my face and I started shaking uncontrollably.

I couldn’t stop, so I tried thinking about something happy and relaxing.

“Stop freaking out” the man said in a hushed tone, “Just go home and I’ll explain myself.” His voice was deep, yet soothing to me. “I’ve come to warn you about your baby sister, Tallie.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s been chosen.”

“For what?” I said in a moody tone.

“She’s been chosen by the Devil to be his newest daughter.”

“You’re ratchet.”

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“No, I’m telling you the truth and if you don’t listen to me you will lose your baby sister for life.”

“Well, why her?”

“She was saved by The Dark Lord himself, and he wants her for his own.”

“But why that’s dumb.”

“His wife, never got the chance to have a baby. She was killed too early and they aren’t allowed to have one down there in the depths of hell.”

My head twitched a little to the side, but thankfully we were home by now. I got out of my car and realized that I had left Claire at school with no ride.

“Forget about Claire for now, there are bigger things to worry about.” I looked at him sternly, and realized that Claire really wouldn’t care if I left her at school, she would just catch a ride with her friends and go hang out with them at the mall. I walked up to the front of my house and looked back at the man, he nodded and then disappeared. The door creaked open loudly and the light poured into the house.

It was creepily dark, and as soon as I had closed the door it began to storm heavily. I ran up the stairs and threw my bag to the side. I slowly crept around the corner that turns into the hallway for my room and my sisters rooms, looking around the hallway slowly glancing at everything. The lights were dim and I could hear a chair rocking, back and forth, back and forth. I looked at all the old pictures that were plastered all over the walls of the hallway, one was of my great great grandmother. Her portrait’s eyes seemed to follow me all the way down the hall, I could feel as though someone was really watching my every move. When I turned around another corner I could see the door was cracked a little open, thunder cracked and lightning flashed, you could see the light through the crack, making an eerie line down the hall. I walked in closer to it, the rocking slowed down a little; I jammed my face into the crack of the door and peered in. The lightning hit my face when I looked in and saw this figure in my baby sisters rocking chair. She was only six months old, just an infant; her room was set up to where the crib was next to a big window so she would get a lot of light, the rocking chair set right beside of it, they were both parallel to the door itself. When I started to open the door a little bit more, a voice cracked and rang through the room, “Get out..” it said in a slithery tone.

I took another step in, knowing this couldn’t be anyone from my household, I grabbed the nearest object I could before fully bringing my whole body into the dark room. I hid a small lamp behind my back and stepped into the room; the woman was holding my baby sister in her arms. She rapidly looked up at me, her arms wrapped tightly around my sister, until I realized it wasn’t her arms, it was her hands. They were around her neck and I could feel as if she was about to hurt her, or she already was. I ran towards the chair and she threw her at me, I dropped what was in my hands and ran for her, I just barely got to her before she hit the floor, her small body slowly fell into my arms. Tallie started crying and screaming at the top of her lungs, her face was bright red and her

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hands were sporadically swinging. I looked up and the woman was standing right in front of me. She was disgusting, pure evil; the Devil’s wife.

I moved my body so that she wouldn’t be able to grab her again. I didn’t want to loose my baby sister. The woman was tall and dreary, her face was broken and scarred from what you would think were scratches from a lion. She wore ripped and tattered clothing that were a dreary grey and black. Her hair hung stringy in her face, as if it were wet, but there were no drips of water on the floor. When I looked her in the eye she had the same slits of yellow that the man in the heavy rain coat did. I jumped up and started running towards my mothers room, praying that she was home today.

When I opened the door to my parents room, I saw my mother thrown onto her bed, her arms and legs going all different directions, her hair was covering her face so I couldn’t see her. I peeled off her wet hair from her eyes, and looked at her wide open eyes, dead. I stared at her for a moment and let it sink in; I looked her over one more time and left the room before I got too emotionally attached; I needed to save my baby sister right now. I looked down at her and she was limp, I shook her a little, and her eyes burst open, wide eyed and bushy tailed.

I grabbed my bag and ran for the door; and left everything else behind me. When I got into my car, there was the woman sitting in the back seat waiting for me. She threw her arms around my neck and started strangling me, my heart felt like it was beating outside of my chest, I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I grabbed my keys and stabbed her hands with them, it drove into her skin and she screamed like a banshee and released my neck. I got out of my car and ran for it, holding my baby sister in my arms tightly, just running down the street, hoping that someone would take me away from this horrid nightmare.

Tiffany Connolly I am 16, and I live in Rougemont, NC. I’ve lived in North Carolina for 13 years now, going on 14. I play soccer and I am a cheerleader at Orange High School. I have been in creative writing for two years now, and I love writing. I want to be a part-time writer when I grow up because it is a good way to outlet my feelings and make me feel better about things. I consider myself to be a very exciting and happy person most of the time, unless the wrong buttons have been pushed. I get good grades in High School and I plan to go to Appalachian State University and major in business. My passion is dancing, and I have always wanted to be a choreographer. In my spare time I write, paint, and draw. I’m very excited to get out into the real world and start working and earning my way to the top of the food chain.

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Magdalina Cummings Tìr na nÒg “Delightful is the land beyond all dreams, Fairer than aught thine eyes have ever seen.

There all the year the fruit is on the tree, And all the year the bloom is on the flower.

There with wild honey drip the forest trees; The stores of wine and mead shall never fail.

Nor pain nor sickness knows the dweller there, Death and decay come near him never more.”

-Oisìn in the Land of Youth, an Irish Fairy Tale

The rain fell in sheets, soaking anyone who was brave enough to go outside. The cool April air whipped umbrellas upside down and turned litter into butterflies that flitted in and out of the currents. The street looked like a smallpox survivor, scarred with potholes and divots. A lone figure stood in a doorway watching the empty street. The figure was exceptionally large and hairy, as if it was not a man, but a bear in a man’s suit. No one was ever brave enough to go up to him, although sometimes the local boys would dare each other to poke him in his sleep. If they thought it strange that he never left his spot by the large hickory door, they didn’t mention it. The man was old gossip, and in a town like this where gossip is what the people thrived on, old gossip was as good as dirt.

On this particular day a young thief by the name of Booker Jones had decided that if the bear man sat in the same place everyday, then he was either dead, or guarding something. Booker bet it was the latter of the two. He had spent the week watching the bear man, learning his habits. He now knew exactly when the bear man slept, when he woke, and when a slot at the edge of the door would open each day allowing a small tray of food to be let out.

Booker sat and waited in his alleyway, until the bear man closed his eyes.

The street was empty as always, and the rain would mask his footsteps. It helped that Booker was small. That was the first thing people commented on when they first saw him. He didn’t really mind, it helped him slip in and out of places that would be nearly impossible for someone larger. He glanced left then right making sure the street was empty, he knew it would be, but it didn’t hurt to double

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check. He slipped across the street, flitting in and out of the shadows, practically invisible to the untrained eye. This was one of things that made him the best thief on the streets, his ability to move in plain sight of people and still remain invisible.

Booker watched the bear man carefully as he moved. His entire plan would be ruined if he woke the bear man up. When he reached the door he surveyed the scene in front of him. The large hickory door was much more daunting up close than it was from far away. It was made from the heartwood of ancient hickory trees, the boards were thick, sturdy, and impossible to break down.

There was a large door knob located above a keyhole. They made this too easy.

Booker stepped over the bear man and pulled a thin piece of metal from his sleeve. He slid it into the lock and wiggled it until he heard a click. He then grabbed a thicker piece of metal and pushed it into the lock. The lock clicked and the door groaned slightly before opening. He gently slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

I did it. Booker let out a small sigh of relief. The door had opened to a long hallway that was lined with torches and shadows. He crept to the left side of the hallway and pressed himself to the wall; he wasn’t going to take any chances of being caught. His hand ran of the large bricks and he frowned. The bricks were bumpy and had long slits in them. He turned and grabbed one of the torches, holding it up to the wall. Carved into the side of the hallway was a large ornate figure of a snake eating its own tail. The head of the snake was closer to the floor. Booker knelt and rested his hand on the head. Whoever had done this must have been a master artisan. The lines were perfectly curved and the snake looked as if it was about to slither off the wall and onto the floor.

A cool breeze blew up the hallway and ruffled his hair. Booker shivered and looked down the hallway. Breezes don’t blow inside. Booker stood and pulled a knife from his belt. He held the torch in front of him and made his way down the hall. The walls after the snake were bare, there were no other carvings, just bricks and mortar. The torches slowly became farther and farther apart until they disappeared off the wall all together. The darkness that remained after the torches were gone seemed to eat the light coming off of the torch in his hand.

Five minutes, he thought, five minutes until my torch runs out and I’m stuck in the dark.

He glanced back towards the direction he had come from. He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, but he was sure it had been longer than five minutes. Might as well see where this goes. I’ll walk until the light goes out, then I’ll turn around and leave. If I haven’t found anything by now, I probably won’t find anything. The darkness seemed to grow darker. Booker wasn’t sure if that was even possible. He figured it was just his mind playing tricks on him or the fact that his torch had burned down to the last few inches; either way he was almost out of light.

After another few feet, the torch went out. Booker sighed and tossed the stub of wood off to his left. Well, that’s the end of it. He turned to leave then

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froze. A soft noise echoed through the hallways.

“Hello?”

The noise stopped. It’s just my imagination. He sighed and shook his head, this place is really messing with my mind. He went to take a step and felt something cool and smooth brush against his leg. Booker jumped and whipped his blade down trying to slice at whatever had hit his leg; his blade found only empty air. He hissed in frustration, and something hissed back at him. Suddenly the hallway illuminated and Booker found himself face to face with the snake from the wall.

He squeaked with surprise and stumbled backwards. The snake slithered closer and flicked its tongue out tasting the air. He slashed at the snake, the snake hissed angrily and glared at him from its ruby eyes. It slithered over his foot and wound its way up his leg. Its skin was ice cold and sent shivers up his spine. Booker struggled which only made the snake squeeze tighter.

“Please!” He gasped, “Help!”

The snake tightened his grip squeezing the air from his lungs. The outside of his vision darkened and red lights swirled in and out of his eyes. He made one last desperate attempt to break free, then let his consciousness slip. ********************

Booker sat up; he was covered in sweat and his heart was pounding.

The image of the snake squeezing the life out of him. He glanced around and his heart stopped. Sitting at the foot of his bed was the snake. Booker let out a strangled cry and rolled out of the bed. He grabbed for his knife but it wasn’t there, and neither was his belt. He glanced down and saw that he was wearing a loose silk shirt and dark blue breeches, clothing only the rich or royal could afford. The snake raised its head and blinked slowly at him, then curled back up, tucking its head into the coils of its body. Booker let his breath out and slowly stood up, trying not to disturb the snake.

After making sure the snake wouldn’t go after him again, Booker let himself explore the room. He had never had a room before, and while he wasn’t an expert, he figured most people had never had a room like this. The walls were the color of cream with gilded furniture and fresh cut flowers sitting in ornate crystal vases. He ran his fingers over the table that was set with a large pile of food. Booker’s stomach rumbled at him, demanding him to sit and eat. He tentatively reached out for one of the rolls and brought it to his lips, his hands shaking. He took a small bite and groaned. He didn’t know food could taste like this; after years of stealing and scavenging for every meal, he didn’t know what it felt like to eat food that was freely given. Booker sat at the small cushion that served as a chair and began to eat the entire tray. He couldn’t have named half of the things he ate, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered is that for the first time in his life, he wasn’t hungry.

A flicker of movement drew his eye from the empty tray and to a large gold mirror that stood in the corner of the room; what he saw took his breath away. Before him sat a tall handsome man that looked as if he had just walked

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from an illustration from a fairytale book Booker had once seen in the window of a store. He stood and walked closer to the mirror. It was his face; he could see that. There was still a scar from when he was slashed with a broken glass bottle five years ago, and his nose was crooked from being set wrong after he had broken it almost a year ago. Except now the scar and crooked nose made him look handsome and rugged instead of mangy. This was his face, but it looked as if he had aged ten years.

He ran his fingers through his hair and noticed that the ever present itch that accompanied the lice he could never get rid of was gone. A grin broke across his face and he let out a whoop. The snake hissed at the sudden noise and grumbled angrily at him before sticking its head deeper into its coils. Booker muttered an apology and began to laugh. If only the people back home could see me now!

The doors to his room blew open and wind swept throughout the room, blowing petals off the flowers and pillows off the bed. A tall silhouette glided into the room and shut the door with a flick of a hand. Booker stood frozen, watching the figure watch him. It was tall and thin like an aspen tree and moved with feline grace. Elegant hands emerged from the large sleeves of the robe and drew back the hood, revealing the most beautiful woman Booker had ever seen. If he looked like a hero from a fairytale she looked like the princess that captures the hero’s heart. She was tall and narrow like her silhouette suggested and had delicate features accented by narrow ears that were pointed at the tips and white blonde hair that fell down her back reaching almost to her waist.

The woman walked towards him and he drew back startled. He had realized she wasn’t normal when he saw her pointed ears, but it was her eyes that truly made her inhuman. They were large like a doe’s and the irises were a piercing silver, and he pupil were a deep purple hue.

“What are you?”

“I am Niam.”

“Nevi- can you say that again?”

The woman cocked her head to one side and smiled at him, “It is pronounce Neev.”

“Neev.”

“Yes.”

“Okay Niam, where am I?”

“You are in Tìr na nÒg.”

Booker sighed and tried saying the words a few times before looking to Niam for help.

“It is pronounced: Tir inna noc.”

“Tìr na nÒg.”

“Very good.”

Booker repeated the words a few times committing them to memory.

He glanced back around the room and saw that the snake had left the bed again and made its way to Niam’s feet. Niam smiled and held her arm out and Booker

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watched, eyes wide, as the snake began to shrink until it was the size of a bracelet. It curled itself around her upper arm, settling until it looked like it was only a piece of jewelry and not a living thing.

“What-?”

“That is Orobus. He is a guardian of the veil between our worlds. He did not mean to hurt you, most are deterred by Airitech, but you were not.”

“Who’s Airitech?”

Niam looked at him, “You do not know who Airitech is?”

“No.”

Niam frowned, “He is the father of werewolves. His punishment is to remain in the mortal world and guard the doorway that you slipped through.”

So that’s why he was so hairy.

Niam watched him smirk and frowned, “Why did you enter the door?”

Booker shrugged, “To prove that I could.”

“Even though it could have killed you?”

“You have to take a risk sometimes.”

Niam nodded thoughtfully, “I took a risk keeping you alive. Mortals are not meant to live in this land. We will see how long you last.”

“That is very reassuring.”

She smiled at him then turned to the door. “You may remain in your room or you can come with me. There are many people who are eager to meet you.

Mortals are a novelty in our land; it is not often that one is allowed to stay here.”

Booker thought for a second then followed her out the door. He had heard of tales where mortals were tricked into doing all sorts of nasty things by The Fair Folk, but he figured that if Niam had wanted to hurt him, she would have done it already.

Niam led him through a winding silver hallway. The walls were covered with pictures of bizarre hybrid creatures dancing. Booker frowned when he saw a picture of a mermaid luring a sailor into the ocean. Niam saw his frown and matched it with a smile of her own, “There are many types of people in Tìr na nÒg. You would do well to remember not all of them are good.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

They continued down the winding hallway until they reached a large oak door. Niam turned and examined Booker. She straightened his shirt and gently ran her fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. “You must look presentable. I do not want you killed during your first day.”

Booker gulped, “Killed?”

“My father is not a patient man, nor is my mother a friend to those who do not fit her image of perfect. Do not fret, I will protect you.”

“Great,” Bokker muttered, “that’s just great.”

Niam knocked on the oak door three times then pushed it open.

Booker wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. He hadn’t ever seen the king or queen in London and he was sure that they would look very different from

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a fairy king and queen; it was suffice to say that the two people he saw were not what he was expecting. The king was taller than his daughter, but had her straight nose and athletic build. He was a handsome man with dark hair pulled back from his face by a rawhide strip and a neatly trimmed beard that accented his mouth. The queen was just as beautiful as her daughter; she had the same long white blonde hair and full lips, although the queens were painted silver.

Both the king and the queen wore simple silver robes and had silver circlets signifying their power. The king stood when Booker entered the room.

“So you are the mortal who has stumbled upon my realms.” The king’s voice boomed throughout the room like war drums, deep and commanding.

Booker tried to keep his hands from trembling; he refused to show any weakness.

“Yes-” Booker frowned, how do you refer to a fairy king?

Niam saw his dilemma and leaned over, “He is Highness to those beneath him.”

Booker blinked his gratitude, “Yes, your Highness.”

The king nodded and stared at Booker thoughtfully, “We were surprised when Niam told us that you had made it past our guards, it is not often that that occurs or that the mortal lives to tell the tale. You are very special indeed, that or very stupid.”

Booker smiled ruefully, “I’ve been called both, your Highness.”

The king chuckled, “So it seems. Please call me Cearnaigh.”

Booker bowed and jumped when a hand touched his shoulder. The queen was now standing behind him fingering his hair. “My lady, I did not see you.”

“That is because I did not want you too.” The queen moved until she stood in front of him. She was even more beautiful up close; so beautiful that she hurt to look at. “My daughter tells me that you did not look like this when you entered our land. She said that when you were brought to your rooms your face and body changed until you appeared to be who you are now. Can you explain this to us?”

“No, the last time I saw myself I was small, thin, and coarse.”

Niam stepped forwards, “I may have found the reason for that.” She paused and her mother nodded at her to continue, “When I found Booker he was not the finest version of himself. Tìr na nÒg is a land that thrives on beauty and perfection. It is my belief that the land made him into his more perfect self.”

The queen contemplated this then nodded, “You make a good point, it is true that our home is the land of youth, I can see how your former state could have insulted it to the point of changing you in order to suit its wants.”

Both the queen and Niam seemed content and the queen returned to her throne. “My husband has graciously extended a hand of friendship to you by allowing you to stay in our home, he has also given you permission to speak his name. I will grant you the same offer, you may call me Maeve.” Maeve smiled at him then turned to the people that had gathered in the throne room. “Let it be known that this mortal is now one of us. You will treat him with the same respect as you would treat myself or my family. The kitchens have prepared a feast and

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the Players have prepared a show to welcome him to our lands.” The people roared with excitement and approval. Maeve smiled and held up her hand, “Let us show the mortal Booker what a true feast is.”The people roared louder and flooded out of the room. Maeve laughed softly and extended her hand to her husband, “We must prepare for the feast.” Cearnaigh enveloped her fingers with his hand and gently kissed her knuckles. The two exited through the simple door behind the thrones and left Booker and Niam alone.

“The king and queen like you, that is very good. Come I shall help you get ready.”

Niam led Booker back to his rooms. He sat on the bed while she hunted through the large wardrobe that filled the left corner of the room. Booker admired her while she searched. The queen had been beautiful, but Booker preferred Niam’s lithe, athletic build to the queens soft, feminine one. Niam wore her hair straight and long; the queen had shorter curls that made her features angelic versus Niam’s aristocratic ones. Niam turned suddenly and caught Booker staring. She smirked at him then tossed a pile of clothes at him. “You will wear these tonight, I trust you can dress on your own?”

Booker stuck his tongue out her and she smiled, “No one has stuck their tongue out at me since I was a child.” She winked at him then glided out of the room.

Women, Booker thought, they have to have the last word. The clothing Niam had tossed at him consisted of dark blue breeches, and tunic, along with a lighter blue silk shirt to wear under it. A small cape lay on the bed beside him and he fastened around his throat with a silver chain studded with onyx stones.

If there is one thing these people know how to do it’s dress. He looked at himself in the full length mirror and smiled. The colors brought out the blue in his eyes and hair giving him the same unearthly beauty that the other Fae had. He pulled on a pair of black boots and headed down the silver hallway.

He didn’t really know where he was going. He knew that the throne room lay at the very end and that somewhere there was a large dining hall of some kind where the feast was to be held. He was hoping to run into Niam or some other person who would be willing to show him the way. Unfortunately his luck wasn’t that good. After ten minutes of wandering around he decided that he was lost. Very lost. The hallway faded from silver to white and the harsh glow of the torches against the silver turned soft and comforting. Doorways began to line the walls. Booker contemplated opening one of them, but he didn’t want to open the wrong one and have something horrible happen to him.

Eventually he decided to open a door. He wandered up and down the white hallway a few times before settling on the aspen door. He gently turned the doorknob and pushed it open. The room was not what he was expecting.

It was slightly larger than his own, but instead of the cream color his was, this room was a soft blue that reminded him of a cloudless summer day. It was lightly furnished and was filled with books and paintings. He gently touched a few of the books and frowned, he couldn’t read the title since he was never taught to read,

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but the books were very large, and he guessed that they were very challenging.

“Why are you in my room?”

Booker jumped and turned; behind him stood Niam. She was dressed in the same light blue as his silk shirt. It was shot through with gold thread, bringing out the warmth in her skin tone. She was beautiful in a simple elegant way. Niam tapped her foot impatiently and Booker swallowed, “I tried to get to the dining hall or banquet room or wherever I was supposed to go but I got lost and ended up here.” Niam raised and eyebrow, “And out of all the doors you chose mine?”

“I didn’t know it was your door I just guessed.”

Niam gazed at him thoughtfully, “There is a story that my mother told me once. It is about a young woman who was turned into a tree. Her lover looked for her for days, but could not find her anywhere. Finally, exhausted, he settled down under an aspen tree; in this land aspen trees signified undying love. He laid against the warm bark and cried for his lost love, when his tears hit the bark the tree transformed back into the beautiful maiden. My mother made my door from aspen because she said that one day I would be the love of someone’s life.

I asked her how I would know who that person was and she told me that when the time came I would know. Most people pick the room with an oak door, which symbolizes strength and nobility, but not you, you chose the aspen. I do not know what this means, but I wish to find out.” She smiled at him and Booker felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn’t sure what she was implying, but he hoped it was what he thought it was. Booker bowed then offered his hand, “I will be happy to find out for you.” Niam took his hand and led him to the feast. *********************

Booker shook the sleep from his eyes. He had stayed up until the break of the next morning dancing and eating with Niam and her people. He smiled when he thought of her. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire room and she was his all night. And no longer for a night. At the end of the feast Cearnaigh had offered Niam to him if she consented. Booker had been shocked and pleased.

Niam was as beautiful as she was smart, and was as curious about everything as he was. When Niam had agreed to the match, Booker was overjoyed. The two had celebrated by dancing the night away even after most of the guests had retired. Then they had sat together until the sun rose talking and laughing about everything. Booker smiled at the memory; his heart swelled everytime he thought of Niam, and now he could spend he rest of eternity with her; it couldn’t get any better.

The wedding day was the largest gathering of Fae folk since the wedding of Cearnaigh and Maeve. The entire castle sparkled like diamonds and glowed as if it was lit from within. The bride and groom stood side by side in front of the king and queen. The bride was dressed in a simple white gown. She had blue and periwinkle blossoms woven into her long hair. The man standing next to her was her exact opposite. He was dressed in a black tunic with a crown of red roses nestled in his curls. The guests all agreed that the two were perfectly matched for each other. The princess was beautiful, smart, and witty while her mortal

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mate was curious and willing to learn. The people were happy with the match, and more importantly the couple was too. ********************

The wind blew Booker’s hair from his face, the thundering of hooves echoed across the sand. Sea spray blew up from the surf dampening his clothes and hair. The white horse ahead of him skidded to a stop in front of him. Niam grinned at him and tossed her hair, “I won!”

“Ha! I let you win!”

Niam rolled her eyes and wheeled around about to shoot off back towards the castle. Booker turned to follow her when a glimmer in the water caught his eye. He slid out of the saddle and began to wade into the water. Niam saw that Booker had stopped following her. She frowned when she saw him wading into the surf. “Booker what are you doing?”

Booker held out a hand and waded deeper. He reached out and grabbed a floating object then waded back to shore.

“What is that?”

Booker held up the object and she saw that it was a shoe, but it wasn’t like any of the shoes she had seen. It was large and pointed at the tip, made from dark black leather. Booker gently ran his hand over the side, “This is from London. I don’t know how it got here.”

“The mortal world and the Fae world are connected, this sea captures most of the objects that mortals lose then they wash up on this shore.”

Booker gazed thoughtfully across the ocean then smiled, “It doesn’t matter, this is my home now.” He took one more look at the shoe then threw it back into the water. He mounted his horse then left without a second glance.

Days turned into weeks, then months then years. The people soon forgot that their prince was a mortal and not Fae. The land had blessed Booker with Fae looks and youth. The only one who remembered he was mortal was Booker himself. Whenever he lay with his wife in their bed all he could see was her feline features and pointed ears, things that he himself did not have. Booker had taken to wandering the hallways of the palace for hours, thinking about his life before that dark, rainy night. Niam had noticed her husband’s wanderings and saw that his heart was divided between his new home and his old one. She did her best to distract him by enlisting the youth of the court to play music and read poetry for him, but nothing she did helped.

After weeks of aimlessly wandering around the palace, he decided that the only way to be truly happy was to go back home. When he told Niam this she cried and begged him to remain with her. He told her gently that he was going to return for closure, and that he would come back to her. Niam gently slid Orobus off of her arm and it stretched until it could fit over his.

“You must not set foot on the street. Stay in the doorway, otherwise Orobus will leave you and you will not be able to return.” Booker nodded his agreement then held his wife close, promising to return. Niam led him down the white hallway until they reached a hickory door. Niam opened it then watched

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as Booker disappeared. She closed the door before letting the tears fall from her eyes.

Booker walked down the dark hallway. He recognized it as the one he had entered years ago. Orobus began to glow, allowing him to see where he walked. He finally reached the first torch. As he kept walking the torches became more frequent and brighter until he no longer needed Orobus. He gently ran his hand along the bricks and let out a sigh, directly in front of him was the large hickory door. It was exactly as he had remembered it, except on this side there was a doorknob. He twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

The noise of the streets was deafening. Large metal monsters roared down the streets and people crowded along the concrete sidewalks. This is not the land I knew. He reached out and grabbed a man who was walking past him, “Excuse me sir what day is it?”

“August 19.”

“And the year?”

“2010.” The man jerked out of his grip and wandered down the street.

Booker leaned against the doorway, struggling for breath. It has been two hundred years since I was last here. People kept surging by in waves staring at him and his clothing. I need to go back. Booker turned to go back through the door, but it slammed shut, knocking him backwards onto the street. Orobus unwound himself from Booker’s arm and slithered away. Booker tried to go after him, but his strength drained from him. He looked up and his eyesight drifted away.

“Niam, Niam I’m sorry.” His body shook from grief, and his heart gave way. His last thought was of the beautiful land that had become his, and the wife he had left behind.

Magdalina Cummings

is currently a sophomore at Orange. She reads everything she can get her hands on, from sappy romance novels, to fantasy adventures. She believes that reading and writing are among the basic necessities of human life and that you can’t live without either one.

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Paul Fox Past, Present, Future Chapter One (Excerpt from Novel in Progress)

I can feel them behind me. Their footsteps on the sidewalk, puddles from the night rain will fill almost all the cavities of the pavement; their pace ever growing in the massive concrete jungle. Neon signs are overflowing with light into the street; they are Mebane’s shining stars that light up the darkness of the night. I begin to feel frantic and rushed like a fly to the signs. I risk a look at my pursuers: the man with a brown trench coat holds one of his hands inside of the coat it looks as if he is about to pull out a firearm, while the other Deus thug reaches into his black vest and pulls out something with a tightly made fist.

I turn away so I don’t provoke them. All the people that the make the surroundings of the dark yet colorful city begin to part away from me knowing well what is tracking me. They are dwindling less and less as they notice two of Deus’ goons chasing a guy like me. It’s almost a straight path into the slums of Mebane.

Shit, the Librarian was afraid that might happen. Maybe if I can get to him maybe he’ll know what to do. I hope that guy is alright.

Through the hollow between the people I daringly begin to run forward. I look at my cold sweat rolling down my pale hands as they rotate around my body.

I cut through the crowd while occasionally glancing at my pursuers.

And boy, do they look pissed.

I let out a light chuckle in between breaths. I slow down as I see the crowd beginning to patch themselves together again. I make a hard right into an alley while looking over my shoulder I see the duo isn’t far behind. I take another hard right leading me to the darker part of town, the slums. These buildings are the broken war-torn section that never got restored from the siege of 2018. A Lot of the buildings were leveled, some are crumbling and others even in the rain seem to sway with the gusts. People who don’t have anywhere to go end up here in the slums as bums, prostitutes, or hoods.

The city doesn’t care whether these forgotten souls live or die but, I always will.

The many folk I run past or cut through are all huddled together like a mass of penguins, trying to get heat around a couple of burning trash cans.

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Some turn their heads at me then they sweep to what is stalking me. They all notice the star of Deus planted on the their clothing. One man from the mass, Hugo stepped forward. He is a burly strong armed man with black ruffled hair who doesn’t tolerate disturbance lightly. Hugo upright decks the guy with the trenchcoat when runs by; the pistol spills out of his pocket. Hugo picks the gun off the ground then motioned to the others. The other man continues his pursuit but, then the slum folk begin to set a blockade. Trapping the remain Deus thug and me in a isolated area.

Damn I’m stuck! Well, I guess they still recognize me for what I once was, A deserter.

The vested Deus hood flips out his a butterfly knife and lunges forward with it. I effortlessly catch the fist holding the knife; the the silver blade in between my fingers not even a scratch is on me. I swiftly twist his fist to loosen the hand and then I pluck the knife all together. I swept the hoodlum with a quick low kick. A stomp to the gut, wind knocked out of him then I slit his small throat that knife he gave me.

I hear a gunshot behind me. I turn around to see Hugo holding the pistol to the other thugs temple a hole is there where the barrel is. The corpse drops in its own pool of blood. He approaches me steadily as if on thin ice. In a slow stride Hugo begins to raise the pistol to me. His one and only eye has an empty look to it like he’s a hollow of a man that he use to be. Finally he stops in front on me a nuzzles to pistol right against my forehead. He chuckles.

“This I could reminisce about. Isn’t it like the first I met you Noir? A gun to your head and me initiating you into the gang.” Hugo pauses then states, “You were are strongest fighter and those were the golden ages of our gang.” He took another longer pause and his face became tense, “Then it all crumbled because you left us we couldn’t defend our turf against Deus! The Drug lords back them up now and we can’t do shi... ”

“Yes I know quite well that you had some complications.” I let out a deep sigh, “I had to leave the gang. I received a higher calling than what I had with you. I pause then I whisper to him, “Have you ever heard of the Librarian?”

He responds in kind with a thick whisper under his breath, “He’s a myth, Noir. Nothing more.”

“But what if I told you that the legend is real? That fiction is also a frame of a reality.”

Hugo rubs his temple with his free hand his gaze is questionable, “ Ugh... prove it.” He removes the barrel from my head.

I show an insidious smile with white pointed teeth and snap both my fingers. A halo of blue fire appears over my coarse red hair. I jump up as i were to ascend to heavens. There’s a trembling in the slums as in accordance to my leap. Buildings topple the crowd runs in terror. Some sit and watch me; as if an angel wrapped in black.

Now the next question is what will happen next?

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A Feline’s Peril “It’s about one in the morning and I want to sleep.” I pause. I slam my face onto the headboard accidentally, in earnest thought of sleep. I moan clutching my head attempting to but can’t find the right position, I stop. I feel the coarse desire that every man feels in his gullet, hunger. I curse nutrition then I propose, “How about a light snack then I hit the hay?” I think for a good, long moment until my stomach moans with agony.

“I accept.”

I fight to get my legs out of the warmth of the comforter; once they are out I kick the comforter off the mattress in aggravation. I swivel my body to jump off. I make a quick glance at this almost vacant room occupied solely by the desk in the far right corner with a lamp, my small bed taking up the other side and a large circular window fills the center. Steadily walking in the light of the moon I found the door knob then I heard a dripping sound coming from the window.

“There weren’t any rainstorms in the forecast. Guess it’s just an unexpected one.”

As I opened the door I could tell this rickety old house began to sway to the storms motions. Ever step down the corridor was like hearing five crickets chirping. The corridor leads out to two other rooms other than my own and further down is a flight of stairs that lead to the second level.

This corridor it’s like a dark void enveloping my eye sight then suddenly I can see a trail of wisps like white smoke leading to the paws of a Siamese cat.

The sleek feline opposite to me is staring me with purely blind eyes. He doesn’t move any other than when I try to make a move toward the stairway behind him.

First he scratches me, I back off. I attempt to jump over him but while I do that he spits a hose’s amount of saliva all over my eyes.

It quickly covers my face! I can’t see! There is no telling where I’ll land.

I hear a crack run through my rib cage as soon as I hit a hard surface. Then I flip over suddenly over and over again, “Shit, Stairs!”

Once I hit the last step. I know I’m on the second level. It’s practically around a ‘bout with two doors on either side of the stair which are vacant. I try to get my back legs to work but they just won’t stand!

Then I feel it; this darkness is all around me. I can feel something watching, peering shyly within the wisps of black smoke that surround me. Then I see them all up above me, the small, blue, infant like eyes. The eyes were all bloodshot, pulsing like a snake’s prey inside of the gullet. Their eyeing me as if i was a repulsive animal. I began to feel a growing growl within my chest and then it popped. I was hissing in anger. The eyes began to shy away into the darkness which they came from but they never averted there chilling stare.

After the liberating anger i notice I’m standing. Standing up tall on my four appendages like a proud black cat should. Then I hotly say “who says a black cat can’t be lucky?”

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Then I fancy myself the bowl of food that I worked so hard to obtain. I relish every morsel until its no more then happily purr myself to sleep.

PAUL FOX Greetings I’m Paul Fox, age 17. My ideals upon my writing and the events and experiences that form it will be shared. My life as a writer really started as a freshman when I signed up for my first creative writing course.

When I first started my course I was honestly poor as a writer. I did it because it might be easy, but it began to grow on me. The thought that my stories and ideals could someday be published seemed so far away, almost bleak. But as the thoughts grew I never stopped writing, in fact I actually grew to be what I am now. Through diligence and support I have made it thus far. I sincerely thank you for your time.

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Brittany Hester So Twisted

Le’andra Smith and her best friend, Harmony Jones, have had the best summer ever. They went to the beach together and had a blast talking, laughing and having fun. They had always dreamed of the day that they would be able to hang out like they did over the summer. After that her friends started catching feelings and going for people that they never thought they would ever have feelings for. Will this make or break a friendship or will the guy come in between them?

It was homecoming night at 7:00PM, the sky was cool,clear,and slightly windy. The football game was about to start, and Harmony was waiting for Le’andra when a guy they recognized from the basketball team came up to her.

He had brown skin and hazel eyes with curly hair. A few pimples and a small gap in between his teeth. He was an average teen, sophomore in high school, young, and enjoyed playing basketball. At 6’2 he was an ideal player, towering over all of the other players.

Harmony who short she stands 5’5 she loves to sing and play basketball she has black hair and brown eyes she is thick as well she loves to make people laugh she is 16 and is a junior in high school and she is either in basketball shorts and a t-shirt or sweat pants and a t-shirt and Leandra’s best friend.

“Hey Harmony,” the guy said.

Harmony looked at him and replied back with a quick

“Hey...?”wondering how he knew her name.

“Man, why are you acting like that,” he said.

“Because I don’t want to talk to you. and plus I don’t know who you are,” Harmony responded.

“Oh word,” he said shoving her to the side.

Harmony looked at him furiously “DON’T TOUCH ME” she said and from the tone of her voice let him know that she wasn’t playing anymore, so Marcus walked off.

As Harmony was waiting for Le’andra she pulled out her Ipod and played some music to pass the time, finally Le’andra showed up and ran to the entrance.

She pulled out her phone to check the time, it reads 7:15pm.

“Oh no,” Le’andra said aloud to herself. “I’m 15 minutes late I hope Harmony isn’t mad at me.” She finally gets in and sees Harmony sitting on the wall by herself and bobbing her head to her Ipod. Le’andra walks over to her and

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looks at her and Harmony takes the headphones out her ear.

“You’re late,” Harmony said.

“Harmony, it wasn’t my fault we had to take my brother to my grandpa’s, and I had to go help my cousin I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, now lets have fun at the game,” Harmony said.

“Ok,” Le’andra said, going to sit on the bench and watch the football game.

Now Le’andra stands 5’9; she is thick, beautiful, sweet, green-eyed with brown skin. She loves food, and she loves to laugh. She is 16 and a junior in high school; she is very smart and always in the newest Harmony waits for her to return. Marcus, who wasn’t too far away, walked over to Harmony and tapped her on the shoulder

“WHAT?” Harmony said.

“I’m about to get with your friend,” Marcus proclaimed.

Harmony laughed “Hahaha you are funny!”

“Whatever,” Marcus said, as he walked over to the concession stand where Le’andra was getting her drink.

Marcus is staring her down and she caught him “Can I help you?” Le’andra said. can I get some fries to go with that shake he replies.

“Boy bye,” she said and walks back over to Harmony and says hey I have our drinks.

“Well dang it took you long enough,”Harmony said.

“Harm, don’t act like that” Le’andra said

“Act like what?” Harmony said. There was an awkward silence for 5 seconds and Harmony said, “Do what’s up with you and Marcus?”

Le’andra looked at her and said, “Nothing is up with me and Marcus, what made you bring that up?”

“Ohh...well I saw ya’ll at the concession stand that is the only reason I brought it up. “

“Well,” Le’andra said, “It’s nothing like that. “

“Ok if you say so..Now I have to use the bathroom I will be right back,” Harmony said.

“Alright,” Le’andra said. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Harmony walked to the bathroom.

Marcus saw Le’andra standing in the grass looking at her phone and he thought it was the perfect time to make his move, so he walked over to her and said “Dang, you look good!” She looked at him and said “Thank you.”

“So do you have a man?” he said.

“No,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because every guy is the same and I’m tired of getting hurt.”

“Sorry for asking but if you were with me you would never have to through that,” but marcus only wanted one thing. Le’andra just didn’t know

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that yet. Le’andra was loving everything he was saying to her. Marcus took her by the hand and said “Come with me.”

“I can’t I have to wait for Harmony to get back,” she said.

“Man forget her,” he said. They went to the back side of the building and Marcus was against the wall looking into Leandra’s eyes and he smiled.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing,” he said. He put his hands around her waist and he kissed her lips and Le’andra pulls away and said “Marcus, I can’t.”

“Why?” he questioned.

“Because I just can’t,” she walked away. Harmony was out of the bathroom and went to the spot where Le’andra was supposed to be standing, but she wasn’t there. “Oh no,” Harmony thought, she was worried but she also knew that Marcus had something to do with this. She wasn’t going to say anything; she was going to wait for Le’andra to tell her, and if not she would bring it up.

Le’andra was power walking her way back to where she should’ve stayed in the first place. She was wondering how to tell Harmony about what happened or if she should. Harmony saw Le’andra walking and she ran over to her and asked her if everything was ok. Le’andra looked at her and said:

“Let’s go.” rRght then and there Harmony knew that her friend was not ok. She pulled out her car keys and they left the game and got in the car and drove away. The car ride was mostly silence; all that was heard was a little bit of the radio. Harmony pulled up to the stop light and looks over at Le’andra and asked her if she is ok. Le’andra looked at her and said:

“Not really, but I will be ok,” Harmony said

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“When I’m ready.”

The light turned green, Harmony pulled off and safely maded it to Le’andra’s house. She pulled into the driveway and parked the car. They both unbuckled their seatbelts; Le’andra looked at Harmony and gave her a hug and said:

“Thanks for being the best friend ever.”

Harmony is thinking to herself if you only knew but she said, “You are welcome.”

Le’andra let go and opened the car door and got out. She turned back around and asked Harmony if she was coming inside.

“Yes, I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Okay,” Le’andra said, as she went in the house. Harmony was still sitting in the car in deep thought. She was thinking about Le’andra I really like her, she said to herself. No no no I can’t that is my best friend and she is not like that but she already knows that I am but I don’t want to force her into anything much less ruin our friendship.

After that Harmony got out the car and went in the house she said hey to Le’andra’s mom and went to Le’andra’s room.

She sat in her chair. Le’andra was sitting on her bed.

“You can sit on my bed, I’m not going to bite you.”

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“I know I can, but I’m going to stay here for now,”

Le’ondra looked at her and sighed: “What’s wrong”?

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying,” Harmony said.

Le’andra started to cry with tears streaming down her face. Harmony looked at her and asked her again, “What is wrong?”

“I’m tired of getting hurt by these guys,” Le’andra replied.

Harmony said to herself If we were together you would never get hurt, she wanted to say it outloud. But all she said was “I understand.”

She got up and hugged her friend for a few minutes. As she was hugging her she stroked her fingers through her hair and said that

“It is going to be ok.”

“OH MY GOSH, it’s late I need to get home.”

“Noo,” Le’andra cried out, “You can spend the night over here.”

Harmony replied back sadly “No I can’t, but your birthday is coming up and I will spend the night then okay?”

“Alright,” Le’andra said, then she hugged Harmony one last time before she left. Le’andra watched Harmony walk out the door and get into her car.

Back at Le’andra’s house everything was quiet; everyone was sound asleep, including Le’andra. She was dreaming that she was in a small room where in the middle was a brown table. and chairs around it. It was kind of dark, but the light shined so they had amazing eye contact. Talking and laughing as usual, and it started out like this.

”So who is your favorite basketball player?” Harmony asked Le’andra.

“Blake Griffin.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m just asking to make sure my thoughts were right.” Le’andra looked at her and smiled.

“Well your thoughts were right.”

”Now where are we going from here”? Harmony asked her.

Le’andra had a confused look on her face.

“What are you talking about?”

Harmony looked at her and said: “Don’t play dumb with me, you only bring me somewhere alone when it is serious,so tell me what is it.”

Le’andra got up from the table and walked closer to Harmony she looked at her and said “I have something to show you.”

“Show me then,” Harmony said.

Le’andra kissed her and shocks ran through both of their bodies. Out of everyone she had kissed she had never felt anything like this before.

Le’andra jumped from her sleep and shook her head. What kind of dream was that... I can’t believe this right now, I have to tell Harmony but something isn’t right. I’m not like that, at least I don’t think I am it can’t be or can it hmmmm...I have to tell her sooner than later or I could text her. I don’t know.

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She looked at the clock and said, “I have to get ready for school or I’m going to be late.” She looked at her phone and scrolled through it until Harmony’s number popped up. She looked at it for a hard minute. She wanted to text Harmony, but she couldn’t. She wanted Harmony to pick her because she wanted to talk to her about the dream she had. But she decided to take the bus to school. She stood in the driveway and the bus cameto a stop. She sighed and got on the bus and it pulled off.

An hour later the bus pulled up to the school and the kids got off the bus and walked up to the main entrance. Le’andra was in thought If I kiss her will it feel the same as it did in the dream, what will happen...should I tell her or should I not, what if...no...sigh. She kept walking and heard someone saying her name. She looked around and saw that it was Harmony. Le’andra’s heart was pounding with joy on the inside, but on the outside she was nervous, trying to pull it off she smiled and said, “Hey.

“Hey, why didn’t you text me this morning?”

“For one, I woke up late and two I wasn’t thinking about texting anyone,” she smiles and looks at Harmony.

“Yeah whatever I know I was on your mind lol.”

Le’andra didn’t know what to say because what Harmony said was so true.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll see you in 4th period I need to talk to you ok?”

“Ok,” Harmony said. Le’andra walked into the building. Harmony got out the car, closed the door and locked it. Should I tell Le’andra how she feels about her? I really really like her. But I don’t want to force anything on her...what if she is not like that?...what if our friendship won’t be the same?...I don’t know I’ll wait and see.

Harmony walked into the building and searched for Le’andra. She couldn’t find her at first so she looked a little harder and then she spotted her standing against the window. A smile came across her face; just looking at her gave Harmony chills down her spine. She wanted to go over there so badly, but she fought her temptation and went the other way. Le’andra, who was still standing at the window, took a deep breath. How will I get through today?

“Hey,” Le’andra heard someone say, as she was walking to class. She looked around and saw Marcus. She kept walking, Marcus got in front of her and said, “Hey I’m talking to you.”

“I know but I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh word..anyways when are we going to chill?” Marcus said.

“What are you talking about?” Le’andra said.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Marcus said, as he licked his lips.

“I’m not that type of girl..find someone else.”

“Forget you, then,” Marcus said, angrily.

Le’andra walked to the bathroom before she went to class. She looked in the mirror and said to herself Once again I fall for the wrong guy...what am I suppose to do?..will I ever find the right one? forget it...I wanna know what

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it would be like to kiss Harmony..maybe I will find out one day. She looked in the mirror and smiled before exiting the bathroom. Harmony was walking up the hallway and Le’andra was walking down the hallway.

“Harm!” Le’andra called out.

“What’s up?” Harmony said. Le’andra hugged her and Harmony put her hands around her waist and hugged her back. Le’andra said to herself: How does she know I like to be held like this? Then she came back to herself and Harmony let go of her and said, “Sorry about the hug, I got carried away.”

“It’s ok”, Le’andra said,with a smile.

“Well, It’s almost time for fourth period to start,” she said.

“It is?” Le’andra said.

“Yes,” Harmony said.

“Well I guess I will see you then,” Le’andra said

“Alright see you in two minutes,” Harmony said.

“Alright,” Le’andra said and they went to fourth period. Le’andra walked in the classroom first and sat at the table in the back and saved Harmony a seat beside her. Harmony walked in the classroom as soon as the bell rings. The teacher looked at her and said “You’re late.”

“Nope, I’m not late you’re just early.” Le’andra laughed.

“Ms. Jones, please sit down thank you.”

Harmony went to the back and sat down beside Le’andra. Harmony looked at her and said

“So, it’s second period”

“Yep it sure is,” Le’andra said.

“What did you have to tell me?” Harmony asked.

Le’andra took a deep breath and said :“I had a dream.”

“A dream about what? Tell me.”

“Well, me and you were in a room and...” Harmony said.

“Yea, and what happened,” Le’andra said in a shy voice. “I kissed you.”

“No way..that would never happen,” Harmony said, shocked but on the inside she was feeling excited.

“Yeah but now I kinda want to kiss you,” Le’andra said

“Now if you want to we can work something out,” Harmony said, with a smile.

“Alright then.”

The bell rang and they dismissed to go home for spring break. A week later was Le’andra’s birthday weekend. She had waited for this moment and thought it would never come. But she had everything planned from her outfit all the way to the car that she was going to go in and it was finally here. Harmony was getting ready to leave her house and go out with Le’andra. Today might be the day I tell her how I feel. and hopefully everything will workout and be the same. She grabbed her car keys and headed out. Le’andra picked up her cell phone and dialed Harmony’s number.

“Hello,” Le’andra said.

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“What’s up?” Harmony replied.

“Where are you at?” Le’andra said in an anxious but nervous voice.

“I am on my way to your house,” she said, as she pulled in Le’andra’s driveway.

“How far away are you?” Le’andra asked.

“I’m in your driveway,” she said and Le’andra opened the door. and saw that Harmony was in the driveway. A smile came across her face but she tried to hide it. Harmony got out the car and said ,“I’m here!”

“Yaay,now lets go!” They got into the white limo and the chauffeur drovethem away into the night. They went to the designated restaurant the chauffeur opened the car door for them. Harmony got out first and helped Le’andra out of the limo.

“Aww, thank you,” Le’andra said.

“You’re welcome,” Harmony said. and they entered the restaurant. and were seated quickly. The waiter came over and said, “What may I get you two ladies?”

“Sprite,” Harmony said.

Le’andra couldn’t make up her mind so Harmony said “Make that two, please.”

“You got it,” the waiter said.

“Harm,” Le’andra said.

“Yes,” Harmony replied.

“Why did you order my drink?”

“For one ,you were taking too long..and two you were going to pick it anyway.”

Le’andra smiled and said nothing because she knew that Harmony was right. The waiter finally came with their drinks. Then they decided to take a togo plate because it is getting late and they didn’t have much time for the limo.

Harmony called the chauffeur and he came to get them. They got in the car and rode all the way home in silence. Harmony was thinking to herself: I will tell her tonight how I feel..no backing down now. Le’andra was thinking to herself: Are we going to kiss..I want to but iIdon’t know I’m not that way. I going to just do it and it will be over and done with..but Marcus..whatever forget him. They pulled in the driveway got out the car and the limo pulled off into the night. Both friends walked into the house and got to Le’andra’s room.

“Are you ok?” Le’andra said.

“No..Yes..I Don’t Know,” Harmony said.

“What’s wrong?..Just talk to me harm,” Le’andra said.

Harmony took a deep breath and looked down, “I really like you..like really like you ok? I have been feeling this way about you for awhile I just didn’t say anything because...” She paused.

“Because of what?”

“Because you are straight, and you are my best friend, and you might not feel the same way about me.” She sighed and sat on the bed.

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“I just wish you would of told me this sooner,” Le’andra laidback on the bed with her feet hanging off the edge. She looked up at Harmony and said ,“Oh well you can kiss me now.”

“Really..are you joking?” Harmony said.

“No, I’m not.”

“As bad as I want to, I can’t” Harmony said.

“But haven’t you been with girls?”

“Yes I have, but I,” Harmony said.

“But what..Harm you can tell me,” Leandra said in an off tone. Harmony took a deep breath.

“I have never kissed a girl before.” Le’andra was in shock she wanted to say “Are you serious?”but she was cool about it because she hadn’t either. Harmony looked down at Le’andra and she looked up at her. All of a sudden the fear in Harmony was gone. She slammed her mouth onto Le’andra’s and shocks ran through both their bodies like in the dream Le’andra had. This lasted for thirty seconds and they stopped. Harmony pulled her lips away from Le’andra’s and just stared into her eyes.

“Wow,” Le’andra said.

“Wow, what?” Harmony said.

“I have never felt like that before.”

“Me either.”

Le’andra grabbed Harmony’s face and kissed her once more. Five minutes went by and they were still on the bed both in shock.

“Well, what now?” Harmony said

“I don’t know,” Le’andra said. There was a moment of silence.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Harmony said. Le’andra turned red and said, “I would if I was that way...but if I did you would be the first and last.”

“Well I’m not going to force you into anything that you don’t want to do.”

“But I want to be your girlfriend,” Le’andra said in a shaky voice.

“But you just said...” Harmony started but Le’andra cut her off.

“Look I know what I said..but I have been heartbroken for too long and I want to be loved again,” she continued to talk. “I believe you can do that for me.”

“I can and I will..But what about Marcus?”

“What about him?” Le’andra said.

“Nevermind,” Harmony said.

“Well I’m tired.”

“I am too..let’s get some sleep and we will finish the conversation tomorrow,” Harmony said

“Ok,” Le’andra said

“I Love You,” Harmony said in a sincere tone

“I Love you too,” Le’andra said back. They cut off the light and fell fast asleep.

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I’m Still Human (Poem) We live in a world that is evil, judgmental, and cruel look me in my eyes and I can tell you my rules I’m just a little different than you, you see and the way I get treated really affects me what’s the difference I’m black you’re white?

The only difference is my sexuality in sight it’s clear to me that you can’t accept me but I’m still human why can’t you see?

So what if he or she wants to be with me I’m still human why can’t you see?

Brittany Hester My Name is Brittany Hester I am 17 years old. I am currently a junior in high school. I love to sing and write songs, and draw. I’m quiet sometimes, but people who know me know that I’m very talkative. I write because it’s an escape from reality it’s my outlet a way to express myself better.

Music is my life as well, without it I feel lonely and depressed but I will always find a way to cope when things don’t go the right way. I’m a laid back but not too laid back, I’m chill too I just go with the flow. I love basketball, that is something I could play all day and night if I could and never get tired of it. I’m a deep thinker too when my thoughts start flowing I will write and write, just to get it out. My favorite artist is Onika Tanya Maraj aka Nicki Minaj. like the first time I heard her I was blown away because we have so much in common her music speaks to me in ways that no one in the world will understand. I’m not perfect I try to make the best of things I feel like if you can’t handle my worst you aren’t going to get my best, but that’s just me. Now when I write stories they are based off of me and things that I have been through in my life good and bad some things were harder than others like in So Twisted. But hey, life is no easy thing to get through. The hardest thing for me in my lifetime so far was telling my family that I like girls. well not so much tell them. somehow they found out but now it’s okay, we know let’s move on and call it a day. Don’t be afraid to be who you are, no matter what happens. I hope that you enjoy my stories and poems, and remember: Be who you are and don’t let anyone or anything change you or stop your from doing something you love. Nothing is impossible if you just believe in yourself and you will succeed.

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MADdie NORWOOD The Grace of God

The butterfly landed on the girl’s finger, extending each leg out slowly as it climbed down her hand. It kept its wings shut together on its back, but the girl could see that the wings were a brilliant blue color. It slowly made its way up the girl’s arm and neck, stopping when it reached her head. It sat on her nose for a minute then flew away. The sunlight reflected off of its wings, sprinkling a royal blue light into the air. The girl knew suddenly, without a doubt, that God existed.

Emily ignored her mom, focusing on sending a text to her friend. I hate it here. Get me out now. Her mother was saying something about school. She rolled her royal blue eyes and tuned her mom out, letting her mom’s voice buzz in her ears. Her friend replied with an ikr? Sighing, Emily leaned her head back against her seat and put in her earbuds. She started playing a pop song loudly and dozed off.

“Emily, wake up.” Emily turned over, burrowing her head into the space between the car seat and the window.

“Five more minutes.” Emily’s mom opened the passenger-side car door, letting a gust of cold air wash over Emily. Emily shrieked and jumped, waking up quickly. She glared at her mother.

“It’s not that bad. You like your dad and sister.” Emily unhooked her seat belt and stood, tucking her iPod into her pocket.

“I hate Dad.” Emily looked at the restaurant, scanning it quickly. The building, a Billy Bob Jo’s Delicious Diner, had a sign announcing that it was “100% free of germs, bugs, and other nasty things.” Her mom glanced at the sign and paled, pretending to look happy.

“This place looks great, doesn’t it? Your dad always chooses the best restaurants.” Emily, not wanting to hear her mom’s fake speech about family reunions any longer, quickly walked into the diner.

She’d expected that the place would be a dump, and she was right.

There were five tables in the store and only one of them was occupied. There were no waiters or waitresses, and she didn’t see anyone at the front counter.

She inhaled deeply, about to sigh, then wished she hadn’t. A putrid, nasty scent invaded her nose. Wincing, she stepped forward and sat down at her dad’s table.

“Em, it’s great to see you again.” The man in front of her grinned, but

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she didn’t respond. Frowning, he tried to start a conversation. “So, how’s school?

I hear you’re doing pretty well. You’re on the A/B honor roll, right? Not bad for tenth grade,” Emily grunted. “Okay, so you don’t want to talk. That’s fine, too.

Whatever floats your boat, I guess. If you want to ignore me, talk to your sister at least.”

“Yeah, Emmy. How are you?” The girl sitting next to Emily was obviously mentally handicapped. She was in a wheelchair and she had a plastic toy sitting in front of her. Grace was technically 19, but she was at the same mental level as a normal four year old.

“I’m good, Grace. It’s nice to see you.” Emily would never forgive her dad for splitting up her family, but she loved her sister. Grace was innocent and sweet, and she wished she could see her more often. She reached forward and hugged her, and Grace patted her back. She ignored her father and helped Grace play with her toy. It was a piano that made animal noises, and she played “Mary Had a Little Lamb” on it. Grace clapped at the end and smiled happily.

“Hello, John,” Emily’s mother, Claire, said stiffly. She smiled slightly then sat down next to Emily. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” John replied awkwardly. “You?”

“I’m fine too.” They stopped talking for a few minutes, watching their daughters interact. Their marriage had ended badly when John began to come home drunk. Claire told him that he couldn’t drink in her household, but he refused to listen to her. She filed for a divorce after she discovered that he’d been cheating on her with a barista for five months. Claire pleaded with him to take Grace, because she had to work constantly and she couldn’t stay home and watch her. John obliged, but he had to quit working to take care of her. He forced himself to stop drinking so he could focus all of his attention on her. Other aspects of his life, including his relationship with the barista, suffered because of his devotion to his daughter, but he didn’t care. His clothes and Claire’s clothes were completely different, reflecting the contrast between their lifestyles. He wore an untucked plaid shirt and sweatpants, and he hadn’t brushed his hair in weeks. Claire wore a skirt and blouse, and her hair was tied up in a bun.

No one except Emily and Grace spoke, and they didn’t include their parents in their conversation. They talked to each other quietly, Emily describing boys at her school and Grace telling a story about a funny dog she saw. After a few minutes, John walked to the counter and picked up their food. He handed Emily a hot dog and gave Grace a turkey sandwich. Emily smelled her hot dog and wrinkled her nose, but she stuffed it down anyway.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, everyone was finished. Claire stood, wanting to leave as quickly as possible, and Emily hugged Grace.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she promised. Claire and John smiled at each other as they looked at their daughters, then silently said goodbye. Emily and her mother left first, getting into a tiny smart car. The car zoomed out of the parking lot, heading to a small house a few hours away. John wheeled his daughter to his car and placed her in her seat before getting in the driver’s seat. He

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drove in the opposite direction to an apartment half an hour away.

There was no way for Claire to stop in time when a huge truck suddenly braked in front of her. Her car sped into the vehicle, getting crushed instantly.

She was declared dead on arrival. Emily was airlifted to a nearby hospital and sent to its intensive care unit. Doctors operated on her for hours, removing multiple pieces of glass from inside her body. After numerous operations, she was still in a coma. Nurses moved her to another room and hooked her up to a generator.

As she watched the butterfly flutter away, Grace frowned. The butterfly was trying to tell her something. She looked at it again, and its bright colors blurred in her vision. The blue became the blue of her sister’s eyes.

“Emmy. Emmy!” Grace began to cry. John ran out of the house and crouched down beside her, soothingly running a hand through her hair.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. What happened to Emmy?” Grace shook her head, still crying. John hugged her, shushing her. The phone rang inside the house. Grace seemed to have quieted down, so he kissed her forehead then ran inside to get to the phone before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” he asked breathlessly.

“Hi, is this John Williams?” John said yes.

“We’re sorry to inform you that your former wife, Claire Novak, has passed away in a car accident. Your oldest daughter, Emily, is currently in a coma at the Cardinal Hospital in Princeton.”

John sank to his knees, feeling a sob rise up in his throat. He dropped the phone and covered his face with his hands. How could this happen? I’ve already been through so much.

Outside, Grace sent a small prayer to God. She knew He was listening, and she hoped He understood what she wanted. Make Emmy safe. Please make Emmy safe. I love Emmy.

Grace and John visited Emily in her hospital room. Emily’s normally rosy cheeks were pale and grey, and her skin was almost white. John held her hand and sat on the corner of her bed, looking at her for a long time. Grace prayed silently as she watched her sister. I don’t like seeing Emmy like this. I want Emmy to look better. Please fix her.

No one prayed at the funeral. The Novak family had never been religious, and they believed that when people died, they died permanently. They didn’t believe in the existence of souls or an afterlife, so they felt no need to mention a god in their speeches. Instead, family members spoke about what Claire meant to them, and how awful it was that her daughter was in the hospital.

Grace didn’t hear any of the speeches. She was focusing on praying to God. She’d heard people talk about religion before, so she knew what it was.

The butterfly tried to tell her about Emmy after she was hurt, and it gave her

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a message. It said she had to pray for Emmy to be better. Emmy was in a wreck and she got very sick, but God could save her. Take me, not Emmy. Please don’t take Emmy. She didn’t know how other people prayed, but she closed her eyes and thought. She hoped that if she thought loudly enough, God would listen to her. Please, God, please. God was good. He’d help her if she asked nicely.

Grace didn’t tell John about God for a few days. One night, as he tucked her into bed, she said that she needed to pray first. He looked at her strangely.

“Since when do you pray, Grace?” Grace sat up and closed her eyes, not answering his question. She prayed for Emmy to be okay then looked up at him.

“The butterfly said Emmy was sick. It said I have to pray. I have to pray for Emmy.” She didn’t understand why John started crying.

Grace’s birthday was a week later, and John got her a Bible. He explained it to her and read her its first chapter.

“It’s a book that religious people read. It explains how the world was created by God.” She listened intently, wanting to learn about God. She didn’t understand many of the stories her father told her, but she decided that God was kind and loving. He would definitely help her.

Grace continued to pray for weeks. She told God to take her instead of Emmy. She didn’t know why she didn’t use to believe in God, but He made sense to her when she thought about Him. The world had so many good things in it like color and flowers and butterflies that someone had to make it. She looked at the pictures in the Bible and had no doubt that God would let Emmy wake up. People made fun of her all the time because her brain was different, but no one ever made fun of Emmy. She had a lot of friends. Grace didn’t mind giving her life up for Emmy. Big sisters were supposed to do that.

John received another call from the hospital two days later, asking if he wanted to keep Emily on the generator. He yelled at the nurse and said, “You better not be thinking about giving up on my daughter.” The nurse tried to reason with him, but he hung up the phone.

Grace thought of a plan. It was an extremely simplistic plan, but she knew it would work. Her faith in God convinced her that she was doing the right thing. God was fair, so He’d let her sister live if she killed herself. She drew out a diagram of the road and a car, and decided that she could wheel herself in front of the car. If she was slightly older mentally, she might have reviewed this plan before she committed to it, but her brain didn’t know to do this. She just saw an opportunity to help her sister and decided to take it.

“I love you so much Daddy,” she told her dad the next night. She kissed him on the forehead then prayed for a while before falling asleep. She’d do her plan tomorrow. Nothing could stop her.

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“I like the sun. Can I sit outside?” Grace asked. John said she could, worrying more about Emily than her. He stroked her hair then walked inside, taking a phone call.

“Hello?” John asked. “This is Nurse Norma. I’m calling to tell you that your daughter, Emily, has woken from her coma. She should be released from the hospital within a week.” John grinned, feeling his eyes start to tear up.

“Thank you so much for everything. I’ll go get Grace and we’ll come and visit her.”

Outside, Grace watched another blue butterfly fly near her and waved at it, knowing it meant she was doing the right thing. She wheeled herself down the stairs and into the road, timing herself so she intercepted a large car just as it passed by. It threw her into the air and she slammed into the ground. Her wheelchair crunched as the car rolled over it. Her head cracked and, as onlookers later described, her brain began to spill out. Blood dripped onto the road, running into a drain. John hung up the phone, walking outside to tell Grace about her sister.

Grace was nowhere to be found. He heard screaming from someone by the road and ran over to make sure Grace was okay. Seeing a crowd of people surround a body, he pushed past them.

“Grace,” he said weakly as he fell to his knees beside her. He took her hand and held it, pushing back her hair with his other hand. He whispered her name over and over again until an ambulance arrived. Medical officials declared her dead on the scene.

Emily never knew why she lived when her sister died, but her father always told her about how religious Grace became. Grace started to believe in God and the Bible, and she prayed every day. Emily wasn’t religious, so she doubted a god had anything to do with her survival, but she always wondered why Grace suddenly became a strong Christian. After she came out of her coma (the doctors were baffled as to how it happened) she always had a more open view toward religion, even if she never believed in religion herself. At night, instead of praying to a god, Emily told her sister that she loved her and described her day to her.

Grace looked down at her and smiled in response, always proud of her sister’s life.

Elegant Verses and Crazy Poetry

Dr. Seuss strolled through Heaven, cheerfully whistling at the bright sunlight and chirping birds. He looked up at the perfect blue sky, smiling. The children’s book author thought that afterlife couldn’t be better. He rubbed the head of a small dog running beside him, and he rhymed loudly, shouting his verses to the world.

The man ran happily along the side of the road

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Talking to every creature, be it lion or toad.

He rhymed as he walked And he talked, talked, talked, talked Until “Until his insane poems were interrupted by a more sensible man,” an angry man with brown hair and a mustache said as he haughtily walked past Dr. Seuss. “Hello Theodor Seuss Geisel.” Theodor glared at the man, sighing as he sped up to walk beside him. “Hello Willo.” The man cocked his head, wondering if Theodor was really as ignorant as he appeared to be.

“I’ve told you this before. My birth name is William Shakespeare, and you should call me by my first name, surname, or full name.” Theodor shoved William, smiling playfully.

“Lighten up silly, crazy Willy. I was just taking a walk in the park and thinking of some rhymes and some garks.” William raised an eyebrow. “Your poems are of a much lower quality than my plays. I could easily think of a brilliant sonnet that outshines your simple rhyming.”

Theodor laughed. “I believe my stuck-up friend is proposing a game of poetry. Am I correct, or am I noetry?”

William looked away, uncomfortable. “Why would I play a game with someone like you? I have better activities to partake in.”

Theodor smirked. “I believe you, friend. There’s so much to do here and the fun doesn’t end. I suppose, if you don’t want to play, I’ll leave you to do your work and I’ll be on my way.” He started to walk off.

“Wait!” William yelled, running up beside Theodor. “Fine, I’ll play your game if you insist.” Theodor laughed again. “Sure, if you prefer, you can pretend it was my offer.” He immediately launched into a rhyme.

The two men rhymed all through the night Until they saw a new day’s sunlight They both did well They both did quite swell But the winner was cally.

William interrupted Theodor, projecting his verses loudly and dramati-

Thee poetry is naught compared to myne Ay, thou art weak and thee work is fat with foolery Thyne hath no wit and thou art make a mockery Of the old pigs that wrote rhymes like Theodor snickered. William looked at him curiously. “What do you find so funny?”

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Theodor grinned. “You don’t need to be so angry all the time,” he told William while laughing. “Just relax and feel sublime. Heaven’s supposed to be a light, happy place. I’ve never seen a person here with so sad a face.” William glared at him, sulking.

Theodor sighed. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of you, okay? I just think you should stop trying to be so dramatic and you should learn to play. You aren’t going anywhere, so you might as well make friends and let go of your cares.”

William cocked his head. “But I’m William Shakespeare. Many people know me here. I have people looking up to me and wanting to write like me.”

Theodor nodded. “I know how you feel and I once felt the same, because many people also know my name,” he replied. “A lot of people who read your plays admire your talent. I love your work and your whizzy-wham-walent. But just because people look up to your work, that’s no reason you should be such a jerk. Not even one, a single one of your fans, will respect and admire a rude old man.”

William nodded, reluctantly agreeing with Theodor. “I’ve been here for centuries and I’ve never been anything but a ‘rude old man.’ I don’t know how to be anything else. This is my personality.”

Theodor shook his head. “No, it’s not your personality. You’re completely wrong. You think it’s your personality because you’ve been angry for so long.

There are thousands of ways to have fun every day. Come with me if you aren’t afraid, and I’ll show you something called an arcade.”

Theodor turned away, back towards the town, and William followed him, smiling slightly. “I won that game of poetry, by the way.” Theodor chuckled and pushed William. “Of course you did, Willy Wid Wid.” William looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, then grinned and playfully shoved Theodor back.

They walked off into the distance laughing together, glad to have found true friendship in each other.

Maddie Norwood is a sophomore who takes creative writing, journalism, civics and economics, and pre-calculus. She babysits after school and participates in the Student Government Association. Maddie loves politics and her favorite late night TV shows are The Daily Show and Colbert Report.

She also likes watching scripted shows like Doctor Who, Supernatural, Game of Thrones, and Sherlock. Her favorite books are The Giver by Lois Lowry and the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. She likes to listen to soundtracks from plays and movies and some pop songs. Her main “hobby” that she does outside of school is homework, but she also likes surfing the Internet and watching the TV shows listed above. When she grows up, Maddie wants to be a politician, journalist, or TV show writer. There are also many other career paths she might want to take. Basically, she hasn’t decided what she wants to be yet.

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Alexis Prebula Home

I stood on a rooftop next to my best friend of twelve years, Drew Anderson. I checked my watch, and then looked back onto the blank foggy horizon. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon and the sky was fogged over and gray. It had looked like this ever since we had lost all normality in our world. Everything was crashing down, economy, government, everything. Some of us were luckier than others. Our parents still had jobs. They could take care of us, and we could keep our homes. But the others were worse off. People lost their jobs, which let to losing their homes, which led to losing absolutely anything that they owned in their name. It was really sad, a lot of people died during this time or suffered from loss. Drew lost his parents about a year before after they were killed in an “accident.” At least that’s what the government that we had left wanted us to believe. There was an explosion near our neighborhood, and about five houses burned up in flames and twenty seven people died. Since that happened Drew lived with my family and me. We continued to live in the same house that I grew up and spent my entire childhood in. Although the homey childhood memories were not easy to remember, the way everything looks now. There was no longer a perfect white picket fence and a perfectly manicured lawn surrounding my house, what was left of it was shards and sharp pieces sticking out of the ground.

Some people that live here will say that where we live is the “rich” neighborhood. My parents still had normal jobs that they worked full time. We owned a store downtown at the mall. But the mall isn’t what we used to have. They only sell the necessities, only a few places have luxury items. The things that are sold at the mall are clothes, and food. The fogged-over sky had become darker and darker each week. Only about a month ago the sky was gorgeous and a bright blue. We still had some of those days, but they were rare. The sky left me with a cold damp feeling, and a tiny feeling of depression.

I looked over at Drew, his black hair was disheveled and he stood in an awkward position. He was tall, at least compared to my height of 5’5, and he was muscular. He sometimes took jobs at the mall to help out and get some extra money to save. His expression was sort of worrying me. I know he was thinking about all of the terrible things going on, “Are you okay?” I asked him. I could tell something was wrong. His dark brown eyes looked up at me; I could tell he wasn’t okay. I know that he was still infuriated at the entire government and the

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“accident” that happened.

“I’ll be okay. I’m just thinking about my family, and about everything that we’ve gone through. Hasn’t it been enough? Why can’t the world just give us all a break?” he said angrily. I nodded and pulled him into a hug. I knew him too well. He was my best friend, the only person that I had always been able to depend on and seeing him so hurt, hurt me. I knew his family as if they were my own and I understood why he was so upset. He was like his mother in that way.

Emotional but able to hold it inside until he could not take it anymore. I couldn’t take it seeing him so upset.

I glanced over the edge of the building. Down below was an empty street, that was once flooded with cars and busy people. The bright colored canopies that used to hang above stores were now a dull unwelcoming color.

Turning back to Drew I still saw that little kid that used to be so lively and funny.

He was someone I knew better than I knew myself and seeing him like this made everything feel so much more real. “Sometimes I just wish everything would end,” He said. There was a strange look on his face that I had never seen before.

What is he thinking? This is not normal. I thought to myself. “What are you going to do, shoot all of the governments leaders” I said as sarcastically as I could. He continued to have that crazy look, and replied. “Is that so crazy?” I backed away from him a little bit. “Drew that’s insane! You can’t be serious” I said putting my hand on his shoulder. He was just being upset and didn’t know what he was saying. “Come on, let’s just go home” grabbing his hand I pulled him behind me and through the doors that led inside the building. ********************* Walking down the stairs and the rest of the way home had been too quiet. We were both extremely silent and there was nothing either of us had to say. “Kids, come in here.” My mom said as we entered the doorway. My house may look terrible on the outside but it was mostly the same on the inside. The walls were still a paper white color close to perfection, the furniture was still expensive and leather and the smell was still fresh and homey. Drew and I followed my mother’s voice into the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen table with my father.

“What’s going on?” I asked. My mother looked worried but I wasn’t sure why.

“Well for a while now we have been saving up money. And we finally have enough to send you two somewhere else,” she said.

She was talking about The City. It didn’t even have a name, just The City.

It was a totally different place than where we lived. It was beautiful there, or at least it was in pictures. That’s where everything is run, where the government is handled and all of the other important business.

“Mom, we can’t leave you guys. We’re too young to be on our own and I can’t imagine life without you,” I replied. My eyes were wide open and I didn’t know what else to say except decline the option.

“It’s not an option. I’m sorry honey, but it’s what is best for you both. You

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won’t be on your own though, you will both be staying at a boarding school. This way you can finish your schooling and young lives there,” my mother explained.

Drew and I looked at each other nervously. We had joked about leaving before but never were serious. And as for the whole boarding school thing, we made fun of and laughed at the unfortunate kids that were stuck there. But hearing my parents talk the way they were I knew that they were being totally serious and wouldn’t take no for an answer. A few hours later they convinced us that it was for the best. ****************

Not even a week later Drew and I were headed for The City. Saying goodbye to the town that we grew up in wasn’t too hard. But leaving the people behind was. My parents were the hardest to say goodbye to. I wasn’t sure how I would be able to do it, but I did. It was dark outside when we started to arrive in The City. For the past six hours we had been riding on a train that passes through the country. Nothing but farms and acres of empty land. The sky outside was beginning to lighten up and become a deep blue. As we arrived in The City there was bright lights, everything seemed a lot clearer. I could breathe in more fresh air in an hour than I had in two years.

“I can’t believe we are actually here,” I said looking over at Drew. I was sitting next to him with my legs on the wall and my head on him. He yawned and nodded his head. Rolling my eyes I faced back out the window. The train came to a stop and we got off carrying our luggage behind us.

“Is that it?” Drew asked me.

I looked up towards the direction that he was pointing. There was a huge building standing in front of us. It was a perfect navy blue color. I knew what it was automatically, we had learned about it in school. It was the capitol building.

The building where everything and everyone who was anyone worked. Stretching up to about three hundred floors I looked in awe. Looking around everything seemed so different. The sky was bright blue again, like it used to be before the clouds and soot overcame everything. I took in the rest of my surroundings and sighed. There was something so perfect about it. I couldn’t believe my eyes of what I was seeing at that moment. It was as if everything was the same as it used to be when I was younger, except even better. I had only dreamed of coming here. But in that dream my parents were both here with me. I know how difficult it must have been for them when we left. I had been their only child and Drew was like the son they wish they had.

“Drew, Amber?” A voice came from behind us. We both turned around and there was a man standing there. He didn’t look much older than drew or myself, but he held himself in a manner that showed he was wealthy and important.

“Yes?” I replied.

“I am Jackson, the headmaster sent me to pick you both up and escort you to the school.” I nodded as he told us to follow him.

We got into a car; I’m not sure what type but all I know is that it was

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a lot nicer than anything we were used to. Even when cars were on the street downtown they were never that nice.

We arrived at the school about fifteen minutes later and Jackson took us to our rooms. They were on two different floors of an apartment complex.

Jackson knocked a few times and the door and a girl opened it. When she saw Jackson her face lit up in a smile but as soon as I was spotted that smile seemed to fade a little.

“Amber this is Taylor, Taylor, Amber,” he said motioning towards us both.

I gave her a weak smile and she did the same. After walking into the room and Jackson was gone I got a cold stare.

“I’m leaving, and I’d rather not have to talk to you or even look at you all that much. Bye,” Taylor said, grabbing her bag and slamming the door behind her. I made a face and unpacked my bags.

Deciding to leave and go see Drew before she came back was the best plan that I had. I went down to the boy’s floor in the complex and on the wall to my right there was a list of names and door numbers. I looked for Drew’s name and finally found it, then headed down to his room. On my way down the hall there were boys everywhere, but unlike at home they were all in brightly colored clothes that had no soot or dirt on them and they all looked close to perfect. I knocked on Drew’s door and a guy opened it up.

“Is Drew here?” I asked. He nodded and let me in. Drew was sitting on a bed next to a half empty suitcase and a bunch of clothes.

“Hey,” He said in a monotone voice.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him. I knew that when he used that voice he was unsure or having a strange thought.

“Nothing, I guess it’s just the weirdness of all this. We don’t know what’s going to happen,” He replied. I nodded and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Well, your roommate seems nice,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s cool, who’s yours?” He asked. I rolled my eyes, “Some girl named Taylor, she’s pretty rude,” I said shrugging.

“What’s her last name?” Drew asked me.

“Uhhh I don’t know starts with a K I think,” I answered.

“You know who that is?” I shook my head. “That’s probably Allen Knox’s daughter!” He said. I looked at him with wide eyes.

Allen Knox was one of the top leaders in The City! He was very powerful, and talked so much smack about where I was from. On the news he was always saying that they should just bomb us clear it out and build a whole new city so that there’s nothing left. That night after dinner when I went to my room Taylor wasn’t there, so I went over to her belongings. Looking at random papers and things that might have her name on them. I found a letter on top of her books that said Taylor Knox. I groaned. You have got to be kidding me! This can’t be happening, I thought. If this was really her then my life for the next year was for sure going to be total hell! I went to bed after that, hoping that Taylor wouldn’t

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be there when I woke up.

I woke up and against my hopes she was. She was in the bathroom getting ready to go. I threw on some clothes and left before I had to see her. It was my first day of school there and I didn’t know what I was in for. Everyone met in the dining hall for breakfast and then we headed to classes. They weren’t so bad; school was pretty much like it was at home. Except we didn’t get to leave and go home afterwards. We finished our classes for the day and Drew and I headed for his room to work on our homework.

“Crap,” I muttered as I dropped my pencil on the floor and it slid under his bed. I crawled off of the bed and onto the floor reaching under his bed for the pencil. As I grabbed the pencil I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

It was a shiny metal thing, reaching for it I realized what it was.

“Drew! What is this?” I exclaimed looking at him in shock. He looked at my hands and took it from me.

“It’s a gun Amber,” He replied calmly.

“Why in the hell do you have a gun?” I asked him still glaring at the weapon that he held in his hands.

“I brought it to help me. Don’t you know all of the crimes and things that happen to people like us? Just because of where we are from people automatically don’t like us. Some want us dead even, it’s happened before,” he replied.

I took a deep breath grabbed my books and headed out of his door. Before I left I watched him put the gun back where I had found it and sit back down on his bed. I went straight to bed before anything else could happen or I could think about much of anything. Taylor came in after dinner and said nothing to me just went her own way and did her thing.

I groaned and looked at the glowing clock on my bedside table. Four thirty A.M. was the time and I was awake. You have got to be kidding me I thought to myself and crawled out of bed knowing I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep.

Slipping on a pair of shoes I made my way out of my room and took the stairs up to the roof. I don’t know what it is, for some reason being up there just helped me clear my mind. Being above the city and all of the world’s problems, just helped. I got to the rooftop and there was a figure standing on the far left hand side. It didn’t take much effort to know that it was Drew. We had to same way of thinking and it always helped up there. He turned around as the door noisily shut behind me.

“Amber...I’m sorry about the gun. It was stupid; I guess I thought it would keep us safe. It made me feel that way at least. I’ll get rid of it when I can.” He said walking towards me.

I gave him a sympathetic look “You don’t have to if that’s what makes you feel safe. It just scares me. Thinking about you, and a gun. Not something I would usually mix together. You’re just so...Drew.” He nodded and smiled slightly pulling me into a hug. I let my head rest on his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. I guess Drew was my gun. The thing that made me feel safe.

Ever since we were young that was all I needed. Especially last year.

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It was the day of the accident. Drew and I were at my parents store taking our usual shift. My parents went home to get lunch and were coming back shortly. I was carrying a box over to put a display up when suddenly the entire ground started shaking. I dropped the box and it nearly landed on my feet, the windows all around us started fogging up with smoke and grey dust was everywhere outside. Drew ran across the store and grabbed me. We sat behind the counter and he held me tightly as we watched everything we knew outside begin to vanish and become black. I could hear screams from all around. All I can truly remember is how safe I felt with him there. He made me feel like it would be okay even when I knew it wouldn’t ever be okay again. ************ I guess being so close to him made everything seem so simple for me, and I didn’t easily get scared. Whatever it was that did that to me I was thankful, thankful for him. We headed down the stairs and went our separate ways to get showers and get dressed for the day. The empty hallways sort of freaked me out though; I didn’t particularly like the dark. It was one of those things that just gave me the chills.

When I got to my room, Taylor was in the shower so I sat on my bed and waited. Suddenly a noise started coming from her bag. It was her phone; I walked over and pulled it out of her bag looking at the door to make sure she was still in the shower. On the screen it read “Daddy”, I opened up the message and it was from her father all about what he was “planning”. I scrolled up to the top of her texts and started reading. Just as I got to the last few messages the water stopped and I knew she was coming out soon. Putting her phone back in her bag I waited for her to get out of the bathroom. I threw on some clean clothes and brushed my hair then left. I ran down the stairs to Drew’s hall and slammed on the door until he opened it.

“Drew! Taylor’s phone had some crazy messages from her father and we need to leave now!” I said. He looked at me confused. He obviously hadn’t had a problem going back to sleep; he looked exhausted and still dazed.

“Amber, what are you talking about?” He asked. “Her dad was texting her all about his plan to kill everyone like you and I. Anyone that was from ‘The Dump’ needed to be eliminated. Those were the exact words that I read! We need to get on a train and go home. NOW!” I said.

Drew jumped out of bed and grabbed the gun from under his bed. He shoved it in his pocket so no one could see it, and we cautiously made our way down the dormitory where the headmaster stayed. We knocked on his door over and over again until he answered. I started to talk but he wouldn’t let me.

He said, “Come back later, and we will discuss your issue.” Closing the door behind him. Before the door fully shut Drew shoved his foot in between the door frame and the door.

“What could possibly be so important that you need to speak to me this instant?” he asked.

“I was in my room and Taylor’s dad was texting her about some “plan”

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and he wants to destroy where we’re from and us and our families and everything that we stand for and...” I trailed off out of breath.

“You must be having some nightmare. That’s absolutely crazy talk!” He replied to me.

“You have got to believe us!” Drew exclaimed nearly yelling at the man.

“I just can’t understand why anyone would make up such a fib,” the headmaster said in disgust shaking his head at us. My jaw dropped open. If he didn’t believe us then I realized that there was no place for us there. We needed to leave, and get away from there.

Stumbling away from his door, I let out a huge sigh. What should we do, everything is going wrong! I thought. I headed back to my room to grab my belongings and Drew did the same. There was no place for us, everything was wrong here. I didn’t care if my home was “garbage” it was my home. The place that I was from and whoever wanted to judge me had not right. Drew and I met down at the level floor and headed out to the train station.

“Can I have two tickets to the eight o’clock?” I asked the women that sat behind the marble counter. She nodded “That’ll be $200,” she replied. I closed my eyes, and reached into my bag pulling out the money that my parents had always saved. I’d rather be a nothing there with my family than a loser here without them. Handing her most of the money that I had left she handed me back two tickets.

“This was just a waste,” I said, taking a deep breath and moving on towards the terminal. “Maybe not Amber, I mean yeah everything that we found it so crazy, but it was already suspected. And now we know that The City isn’t all that is said to be? It’s just a place. Sure, it’s a hell of a lot nicer here than it is at home, but I don’t care. That’s home, and it’s where we are safe,” Drew replied.

I nodded in agreement.

As we stepped onto the train I took one last look at the place was supposed to be everything. The place that was supposed to make dreams come true.

Scoffing at the thing I thought was once so amazing and beautiful, I climbed aboard to get back where I belonged.

The Worst Day

The morning light shone through Anna’s bedroom window. As soon as the light trickled through the window and tickled her cheeks her eyes shot open wide. A loud yawn sounded from her mouth as she stretched up and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She gasped as soon as she saw the time! 9:03, it couldn’t be.

“Crap, crap, crap,” she muttered under her breath scuttling out of her bed and running to her bathroom. She managed to struggle a brush through her tangled natural curls that people say “I would love to have.” It was impossible so

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she piled the dark brown mess on top of her head in something that resembled a bun, not even caring what it looked like. Next thing she knew she was brushing her teeth and staring at herself in the mirror. Not only was she late but she had two huge, dark circles under her eyes. She knew something bad would come of late night studying and forgetting to set her alarm clock. She put on as much concealer and powder as she could to cover them up but nothing seemed to work. Sighing, she left the bathroom and got dressed, without looking back into a mirror until she was at school on her way to the front lobby.

Outside she could hear the birds chirping, smiling to herself about the one happy and soothing sound she had heard all morning. Birds have regional accents she thought to herself remembering this as one of the things her insane best friend Jack had told her the day before. Jack was nonstop telling her crazy and weird things that no one knew about. Walking into the lobby throwing her backpack on her shoulder she spotted her crush of a long time, Logan. He was standing by the water fountain talking to his friend. She looked down at her appearance to make sure she looked okay, and as soon as she saw her attire for the day she dashed to the bathrooms.

Once she was in the bathroom she wanted to cry and just give up. Her jeans were the pair that she had not only spilled barbeque all over at her family’s BBQ last Saturday, but they were the ones she used to paint the house, play with her dogs, and most unfortunately the jeans that she had ripped. A huge hole right on the back of them, right on the back pocket, the hole went all the way through the jeans back pocket and the underneath part of the pocket that covered her butt. She groaned and put on her gym clothes. Her baggy Nike running shorts. How could this day get any worse she thought to her? Walking out into the hallway she went to the office and signed herself in. As soon as she was signed in everyone was in the hallways. It was time for second period.

“Thank the Lord,” Anna said to herself. She had yearbook next and the only people in that class were her close friends. On her way down the stairs to get to yearbook there was a milk carton she didn’t see, and she ended up falling headfirst down the stairs. She tried to catch herself but couldn’t the next thing she knew, she was caught. She opened her eyes as soon as she realized who had caught her. It was Logan, her heart started to beat so fast and she got super nervous. “Are you okay” he asked her staring into her eyes. She nodded and he helped her stand up on her own.

“I just wish this day would end,” she said rolling her eyes. He smiled at her, “Do you want a ride home after lunch, you deserve to skip?” he said to her.

She nodded.

After yearbook was over and the bell rang for lunch she waited for him by the stairs where she had nearly face planted. After nearly ten minutes of waiting for him she rolled her eyes. This was just a stupid joke he was playing on her wasn’t it, she thought. Walking back up the stairs towards the lunch room she spotted him walking towards her. Maybe it wasn’t a joke, maybe he liked her, or maybe he was giving her sympathy because of what a loser she was. Either

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way it was a ride home and she was going to take it!

“You ready?” he asked her, putting his arm around her shoulder. She smiled at him and they walked to his car.

On the ride to her house they talked, it was nice, almost too nice. She blinked and shook her head a few times trying to make sure this was in fact a reality. Reaching her house didn’t take too long.

“Well, thanks for the ride, I guess you have to go back to school,” Anna said looking down at her black Toms. He made a face, and wrinkled up his nose,

“Yeah, but I’ll call you,” he said. She smiled and nodded. Suddenly the sound of a chicken came from the background. OH GOD, Anna thought. Her neighbor’s chickens had gotten out again! Logan looked behind Anna and saw them, there were only four but nonetheless they were stupid chickens.

“Ummmm... I have to go,” Anna said and turned around.

Logan got out of his car and followed her. He helped her get the chickens all the way back to her neighbor’s yard and their barn. It was ridiculous how nice he was. Just as he got into his car to leave Anna muttered something.

“Huh?” Logan said.

“There are more chicken in the world than any other bird,” she replied and ran into her house after she said that.

“He probably thinks I’m a flake! Why did I say that?” Anna groaned and sat on the floor in her hallway Indian-style just thinking about what else could happen to her that day?

Alexis Prebula is a freshman in Ms. Smith’s Creative Writing II class.

She lives with her mom, dad, and brother. She has a dog named Red, a cat named Siam, and a baby turtle named Billy. She grew up in Hillsborough, and continues to live there attending Orange High School. In her free time she enjoys cheerleading for her school, writing, and singing. One of her favorite things to do is go shooting with her Dad and brother, as well as practice archery with her best friend, Katie Baity. In her writing she prefers to write young adult fiction to other types. One of her dreams is to write a published book. Alexis hopes to attend UNC chapel Hill and major in creative writing, also working towards a law degree.

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Meleah Travis Grenade

Her hair whips behind her as she speeds up more and more, jumping over limbs and splashing into small creek beds. There are rocks, pine cones, and even broken beer bottles laying on the ground, hazard written all over them. She continues to move forward though, knowing that behind her is something far more dangerous. He’s catching up, she looks around desperately searching for a tree to climb up. A recent forest fire had killed them all, one minute they were singing and dancing in the wind but the next they were ash, quiet. Their voices taken

by Hell itself. It was normal for this type of break out in Colorado, it was Summer and drier than usual. Her feet are black, not a spot of her porcelain white skin shows. Up ahead there is a cabin of some sort, or part of one. The structure still stands and part of the second floor, which seems as if it will cave through at any moment. Some boards are strayed in the yard and some matches, was this where the fire had started? I wondered. Either way the house looked grand to me, a mansion couldn’t have been any better at that moment. I took refuge in it, finding the smallest corner and scrunching up into a ball. I then took the ash around me, rubbing it all over my skin for camouflage and placed some boards on top for a finishing touch. Right as I placed the last piece in place, I heard heavy footsteps and panting. Leaves crunched and limbs snapped, obviously he was not trying to hide his presence. I scooted back until the wall and I were one.

“You can’t hide forever, Sweetheart,” he said, stepping foot inside what used to be the threshold.

It was like the army days all over again. Before, we were stationed in a forest, the canopy doing its best to block out the sun. I was the only woman out of a whole camp full of men. The underbrush and abundance of trees made it easy to build a fort, in case the enemy tried crossing our lines. Out of the whole world we were hidden here in this desolate place, enclosed like a prisoner in a jail cell. My group had already transferred three times, never staying in one place for more than a month or two. About 1/4th of our men had been wounded in the last bombing, a few died. Among the dead was a man I had become well acquainted with; he was my best friend. If I could have taken his burden away, I would have without a shadow of a doubt. After this hardship, my officer allowed me to take leave for a few weeks. While away, I was given the job of delivering his dog tags and ashes to his wife; the hardest part. I would much rather carry

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50 pounds of weapons across the desert in 100 degree weather then deliver bad news to a family, it never got easier. Seeing them fall to the ground weeping uncontrollably, trying to comfort them but not having the right words to say.

I parked on the side of the road and sat for a few minutes, contemplating what I should say. I can’t cry, I have to hold myself together. Be strong for him.

When I stepped out of the car, something squeaked under foot. A rubber duck. It was covered in dirt and wet from the previous night’s rainfall. One of its eyes were missing, probably from years of use. I stepped forward, hesitant.

My hands were sweating even though there was a cold chill in the air, so I wiped them on my pants and knocked. Should I tell her the truth, what really happened that night?

At pulling up into the run-down hotel lot, guilt started to consume me. I should have told her, if that were my husband I wouldn’t want to be deceived.

He saved me on numerous occasions that’s the least I owe him. I leaned up against the steering wheel, accidentally sounding the horn and scaring a lady walking her dog behind me.

“Sorry,” I said over the car’s engine, then pulled out and drove once again.

Flashbacks of the last few months flipped through my head like a camcorder on fast forward, fuzzy and quick but clear enough for the image to get across. Being in the army, I am trained to observe everything from footprints in the dirt to trip wires. After about two hours of driving, I realized a minivan had been on the same route as me since leaving the hotel. I could just barely make out that the driver was a man because he kept four or so cars behind me at all times. I’m just being paranoid. I need to get a closer look. I slowed down then put an army strategy in effect, there was an open window and I got a clear view for a slight second. In that second I saw a tattoo on his upper arm; there was an outline of soldiers with guns and the American flag covered the background.

Then it hit me, there was a group of men in the army that had that emblem. They were the captain’s pets you could say, always doing his dirty work.

Oh my God, that night. One of the men had that tattoo. It all came back to me.

I was out getting wood to restock the fire. Almost all other soldiers were in bed for the night, but I couldn’t sleep. There was a full moon to light the path in which I walked and a few stars here and there peaked through the blanket of black. I heard people talking from behind the dining hall so I went to take a look.

“Be quiet,” a man snapped.

“What should we do with him? The sun will be up soon so we need to work fast.”

“Grab his legs and I’ll take his arms.”

I peeked around the corner and that’s when I saw him, Kenneth, my best friend. His mouth was taped and hands bound by a rope. There was a stream of blood running down his face staining the collar of his shirt. Not a movement was made; the twitch of a finger or blink of an eyelid. I wanted so badly to scream out for help and take them on myself, but they were ranked higher than me. I

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clenched a lawn chair that stood beside me for support. I had never felt so useless. Around me everything started to blur, as tears trailed down my face. My eyes had been dry for so long, I forgot how it felt; the taste of salt when the drops reached my mouth and the sense of utter helplessness. Before I knew it the lawn chair started to tip, falling on the ground hitting a rock. Bang. The two men turned their heads in a flash and spotted me in the corner.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot, go and get her.”

I took one last look at Kenneth, his face bruised and turgid. I won’t remember you this way. I’ll remember the man I first met. His warm expression and spirit could light up the room in a second. The man charged toward me and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his arm before darting away. I’ve always been a fast runner because I’m so small, making it easy to slip out of sight. What if he saw me. Was Kenneth dead? The next day my questions got answered.

All privates in my unit were called to a meeting at the main headquarters. General Smith, a man I hold with high regard, stood upfront with a grievous look on his face. He peered over the crowd and caught my eye.

“I hate to report that Private Kenneth Parker was killed last night. How it happened is unknown up to this point. Anyone with information regarding his death is to report to me or the Captain immediately.”

The “captain” is the highest in rank at our camp; he was an austere man who would cause a baby to cry at one glance. I let out all of my tears the previous night so I just stood there, staring at the ground and fumbling with my hands.

When we finally got released to start workouts, the General rushed my way and pulled me aside.

“I couldn’t help but notice your reaction to Private Kenneth Parker’s death.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t have a reaction.”

“My point exactly. Ever since the two of you arrived at base you guys have been inseparable. Like long lost siblings. If someone picked on you for being a woman he defended you and had your back. When he got wasted on the Fourth of July, you pretty much carried him to the bunks and then covered for him when he overslept with a hangover.” There was a slight pause, he looked around making sure no one was in ear range and then continued, “Look, if you know anything you need to tell me. There have been a number of deaths lately and I intend to get to the bottom of it. I know someone in this camp can tell me something, but there holding back because of fear. Just do something for me, think of what Kenneth would want you to do?” He stared into my eyes and for a minute I thought of telling him, confessing everything. But then a thought edged into my mind, You’re a coward, you ran away. At no response he nodded, dismissing me.

The next few weeks were vague, I cried and cried until the tears ran out, like a drought. Everywhere I went I saw Kenneth. Depression took over me; I left my living quarters a mess and showed up at drills tardy. On a rainy Tuesday afternoon, I received a visit from General Smith.

“Private Logan, I’ve been informed of your behavior lately. I know you’ve

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been through quite an ordeal but in the army you’re considered a risk. One wrong move could result in a grenade exploding, or friendly fire. We’ve decided to give you a furlough. Go home, get your life sorted out. When you arrive we expect to have a ready and willing soldier, the one we used to have. The only job you have is to deliver Private Kenneth Parker’s ashes and dogtags to his family.

This is a chance for you to face the past, put it at rest.”

I pushed the gas pedal down as far as it was able, taking a turn here and there. When I finally lost him, I stopped at a mall parking lot for refuge. It was congested because of Black Friday, finding me would be be like trying to seek out a needle in a haystack. Whenever a car passed by I bent down, crammed between the steering wheel and my seat. What can I do? How did they find out who I am? Then I remembered, on the way to Colorado I had passed a camping site with cabins about 30 miles out. It looked vacant for the most part besides a few trailers and boats, not what you would call the most ideal vacation spot but it would keep me hidden. I drove for close to an hour, observing every car that passed in my rearview mirror. By the time I finally arrived, I was so on edge that the squirrels in the woods surrounding the camping site frightened me. Calm down. Smoke from a recent forest fire lingered in the air. I only knew about it because along the way I stopped for gas, the man in charge warned me not to go on the back roads because some of them were damaged. All around me I could see empty spots where trees once stood with nests on their limbs.After checking in with the front desk, having no luggage to unload, I made my way to cabin #3.

I wavered at the door, one thing I learned in the army was always expect the unexpected. I nudged the door open to find a twin size bed in the corner near a window, a small kitchen with a table in the center, and a nightstand with a small lamp resting on it. The cabin resembled the lincoln log houses I used to make as a child, it even had green shutters. Since I stepped in something didn’t feel right, I felt like I was being watched. I peered outside only to see parents with their children fishing, and others having a cookout. I wish my life were that simply.

When I couldn’t stand just sitting around doing nothing for any longer I decided to take a walk, try and clear my head.

The trails around the campsite were dull, I imagined they had been beautiful once before the fire. I was about half way done when I heard voices behind me.

“She’s got to be here somewhere,” a man said frustrated.

“Are you positive you saw her go this way, it’s not like she could have just disappeared and theres not many places to hide,” a second man said.

The tone of his voice; how rough and deep it was, I had heard it before.

That night. That’s when the chase began.

“Come out, come out wherever you are. I know you’re in here.” The boards creaked underneath the pressure of his combat boots, every step he took closer to me turned my blood to ice. He knocked over tables and boards that were strewn, not letting an inch pass by.

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“Ahaaa,” I could see through a crack that he was glancing my way. This is it. He reached for something tucked in his belt, a knife. I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment to pass. I wasn’t going to act weak, beg for him not to take my life. At least in the end I would be with Kenneth once again.

“Zach, help!!!!!” I assumed his partner in crime yelled. He ignored the plea and kept heading in my direction until a sound sliced the air, similar to that of a dying animal.

Finally he walked out, “What is..” I heard a break in his sentence. “Noo, no,” next came sobbing mixed with hiccups. Did something happen? Should I sneak out while I have the chance? It sounded like someone threw a punch and the other struggled.

“Now get on, If I were you I would go to your cabin and get your bags.

Don’t try to make a run for it either because this place is surrounded by policemen.”

“The captain will never let you get away with this,” Zach said sounding a little winded.

“Oh really, then why is he waiting for you two in the back of the police car?”

“How??”

“Well you see, I caught on to your guys little game awhile ago, but I knew I had to catch one of you in the act.”

“Which you did?”

“Lets just say your third buddy, Conner, thought he could get a job done all on his own. He was more than glad to confess everyone involved when I offered a shorter sentence. The only thing he wouldn’t tell me is why? Why would you kill innocent, hard working soldiers?”

He grimaced, “I guess you’ll never know.”

I just sat in my corner in disbelief. Oh my gosh.

“Private Logan, where are you?

I kicked the boards off of me in shock. General Smith stood there with his hand extended. “You ok?”

“Yeah, was all of that true?”

“Unfortunately yes. We’ll talk about that later though, you’ve already had a long enough day.”

After a week of well needed vacation I went back to base. General Smith had been promoted to the “captains” place. The days were long and the nights short, but there was no place I’d rather be. This is where I felt closest to Kenneth.

Just when routines and drills started to be in order again, a catastrophe occurred at my camp. We had been practicing with dummy grenades for the last week, and the day finally came when they were real. Everybody stood up a little stiffer and straighter, just ready to be over and done. The general spoke of protocol for about 30 minutes and then we began. I was first in line, all the privates were more than happy to let the ladies go first. My hand was trembling

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at the feel of its smooth, round service. You got this,1...2...3...4...5, droplets of sweat covered my face, 6...7...8...9...10, I pulled the pin of the grenade and threw it. BOOM, it was over. Relief overwhelmed me, I did it. I stood to the side and watched all of the others, cringing at the thought of one going awry. A small, skinny man stood up to the plate, he looked young probably in his early twenties. I noticed his shirt was soaked, and he took deep breaths to prevent from hyperventilating. General Smith handed him the grenade and stepped back. The man readied himself and then pulled. He did everything right and in order, the only problem was the grenade was faulty causing it to go off to early. There was a frightened look in his eyes, I could tell he didn’t know where to throw it; in front and back of him were people. Then a moment passed and he was calm, he threw it up with as much force as he was able. Everyone closed their eyes and then, Boom. There were no screams, just silence. We all stood from our crouched position, staring at each other.

Then laughter came out of the General’s mouth, “That was close private. How did you know to throw it up like that?”

“Someone told me.”

The General looked confused and then answered, “Well it’s over now.

You are all dismissed for the day. I’m proud of you guys.”

I went up to the private and invited him back to my quarters for a drink, knowing he would need one. He agreed and followed me, making chit chat the whole way.

“I’ll get the drinks, have a seat,” I said gesturing to the only chair that stood in the living room, if you would call it that. He sat, looking around at various pictures on the wall.

“That’s the man,” he said, as I walked back into the room.

“What man?” I said confused.

“The man who told me to throw it up,” he stated pointing to a picture of Kenneth that stood on my bookshelf.

MELEAH TRAVIS I am currently a sophomore at Orange High School. In my free time I enjoy playing tennis and piano. I’m not very good at either but hey, I try that’s all that matters. I’m very involved at my church, First Pentecostal Church of Durham. People think I’m insane because I am insane, but my favorite subject is math. In the future I plan to be a pediatric nurse after attending Watts Nursing School. I have one sibling, Emili, almost 20 and a sophomore at UNC Chapel Hill. I don’t read very often, but when I do I’m a sucker for romantic novels like the overly emotional books by Nicholas Sparks. I also enjoy dystopian books like “The Hunger Games” and “Divergent.”

A favorite quote “Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all.”

-Helen Keller Orange Creative Writers 102