Milo (Julia L., Grade 6

“Asha!” She heard her mother’s voice call for her, breaking through sobs. She reached an arm out, as if she wanted to pull her back with a string. Asha’s father held her down and soothed her. He whispered in her mother’s ear, “Let her go. She needs to think.” Asha’s mother fell into her father’s grasp as Asha ran to the wishing well.

Milo By Julia L., Grade 6

Outside it was dark. Pitch dark. The darkness began to consume my walls, until it had swallowed my room as a whole. My flashlight was out of batteries, and I couldn't even turn on my lamp, in fear that I might wake up my sister. I was the only one awake, and it was going to stay that way. I could feel the cool air rush through the tiny slit in my dreary, old windowsill. I forced the window shades apart, which were, by the way, very unfortunately, absolutely smothered in discolored flower-like shapes and weird little bumblebees, until all you could see of them was a tiny scrunched-up piece of fabric. My mama got me them a couple of years ago for my new room, and even though I guess I could survive a little longer with them, they were not the same they used to be. Sometimes I feel bad for Mama. Sometimes I guess I feel helpless. Sometimes I wish I could just go back in time and change everything. I wish I could make my mama happy and find her somebody who would love her unconditionally, not just leave her in the dust, like my so-called "father." Thoughts flooded my head. I think I had passed out. I saw my dad. I saw his face. I know I did. His olive skin and light green eyes looked just like mine. His dark hair and splotchy freckles looked just like mine. I sat on the floor there for a moment. All of a sudden, I froze. Something was not right. I could feel the floor under me shaking, cracks splitting in the tile, and the world seeming to collapse on top of me. I dropped onto my knees, making dark green and purple bruises all over my body. Cuts began to form on my skin, blood pouring out. At that very moment, I thought I was on my way to hell. But before I could blink, it had stopped. My life had just flashed before my eyes and I didn’t even have words to describe it. Everything had returned to normal, except, for now, my sister was wide awake, eyes staring at the popcorn ceiling, her mouth in a straight line. I was trapped.

- - - - -

I had gotten back from school that day, and my window was still open. I remembered when I would look down on the people below me, just like when I was a little kid, racing to throw away their trash before tomorrow morning, when the same guy, who came every time, would pick up the garbage, and leave until the next week. His name was Milo. He had a slit in his eyebrow, dark curly hair, and scars all over. He wore clothing that had been worn a million times, but he managed to keep it clean and intact. I only ever seen him taking our trash away. Maybe he wasn’t a local. Maybe he just didn’t like going out in public. Maybe he does go out and I just never see him.

I felt like a queen when I looked out my window, even if I was sitting on the stained tile floors. I saw a dark figure race through the alley in between 6th Street. I heard the click of my windows. I stared at them and began to realize that they were unlocked.