Midnight Writers January 2018

January 2018

Midnight Writers

Table of Contents

Cover: “Touched By the Heavens,” an illustration by The Masked Lady

This Page: “Cosmos,” an illustration by Andromeda

Page 3:

Page 9:

“Dystopia,”a story by Stella “An Eye For an Eye,” an illustration by Shadow

Page 10:

“Comet Fruit,”a story by The Masked Lady • A girl wants to go against her parents wishes and live on Earth “Comet Fruit,” an illustration by The Masked • A person is struggling with the decision of living on Earth or Lady “Space Is So Co-oo-oo-ol,” an illustration by The Mars Masked Lady Unmasked Lady

Ask Aphro & Dite

•

The Masked Lady talks about a teacher’s advice

•

Incandescence reviews the book, The First Phone Call from

Incandescence’s Literary Investigation

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Page 4:

“Annoyed At First Sight,” a rant by Lucifer “Blue Mountains,” a photograph by Celia Bowen

“Comet Fruit,” continued “Space Is Still So Co-oo-oo-ol,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Space,” a poem by HMscorpio “Floating,” an illustration by Wilted Rose

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Page 12:

Heaven

“Maria Part 2,” a story by Andromeda “Towards the Light,” a photograph by The Calico Cat

Page 6:

“Morton Tries to be Human Part I,” a story by Eos “The Witch of Space,” an illustration by Teresa

Page 13:

“Morton Tries to be Human Part I,” continued “Space Puppies,” a story by HMscorpio “Maria Part 2,” continued “How to Tell a True SAT Story,” a story by Incan- “Infinity,” a photograph by The Calico Cat descence

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Page 14:

“Ending...I,” a manga by Aya Hatashima “La Dame de Fer,” a story by Cheryl Zhang

“How to Tell a True SAT Story,” continued “Twice Upon a Now,” a story by Blue Serendipity “Big Doggo,” an illustartion by Deranged Blue Page 15: Cloud “Santa, Not Satan Part 4,” a story by Incandescence

Page 8:

“Un-Resolute,” a poem by Eos “Satisfaction,” a poem by HMscorpio “Rockies River,” a photograph by Celia Bowen “Resolutions Are Stupid,” a rant by Lucifer

Page 16:

“Santa, Not Satan Part 4,” continued “Satan’s Fourth Gift,” an illustartion by The Masked Lady

issuu.com/midnightwriters midnightwriters2018@gmail.com

Ask Aphro & Dite

Dear Aphro, I hate space so much. It is too wide and too strange. My parents don’t want me to become a citizen of Earth. But I really want to. Should I obey my parents and still live in outer space, or rebel and become a citizen of Earth?

Yours, Wannabe Earth Girl Dear Wannabe Earth Girl, I understand how much you hate where you live. Do what make you happy, not what makes your parents happy. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in space? I don’t think so. You can still visit your parents every now and again. But follow your heart.

If you want to try Earth, give it a chance.

Who knows, you might love all the different cultures that come with it. So to wrap-up, Wannabe Earth Girl, you can’t know if you like something until you try it. Stand up for yourself and have a talk with your parents at an appropriate time. What is the worst that could happen? Take the risk and enjoy Earth.

With love, Aphro Dear Dite, I am debating whether or not to live permanently on Mars with other people. I know it is a big decision, but it is hard to decide. I hate my job on Earth and I don’t really like the climate there. I am a natural Earth citizen. What should I do?

Yours, Mars or Earth Dear Mars or Earth, I know this can be a hard decision to make. I suggest you make a pros and cons list. There are lots of great things about Earth. Free air, free food, already colonized, the list goes on.

Do what is right for you. You’ll probably have to spend an eternity there on either planet.

But if you really like Mars, the red, sand, and a nice view of the solar system that is great, too. Like I said, do what is right for you. Good luck making a decision and I hope your eternity on either planet is great.

With love, Dite

Unmasked Lady

During one of my summer pre-college programs, I had a really weird, yet interesting teacher for my Art History Class. During this two-hour class, he would always find a way to squeeze random fun facts that somehow related to the lesson. One example would be that during our lesson about abstract art, all of a sudden he mentioned, “Hey guys, if you ever want to learn a new language, go to the country’s nightclub and talk to the people there. Because the people there actually will want to talk to you instead of a random person on the street.” Another time he also mentioned during a lesson about Greek art, “Hey guys, did you know Hello Kitty is in fact not a cat, but a little British girl?” After every random fact he would say he would always do this laugh that made you laugh with him even though one of the facts might have scarred you for life. But there was one thing he said that I felt was something every high school student should hear. A couple minutes after our lesson, he pulled up his chair and sat down on it (he usually never does this) and said something like this “Has anyone ever told you guys that high school will be the best years of your lives?” A few nods in an agreement with some yeses were given.

“Well, when I was in high school someone told me that, and the first thing I thought was what was the point of life after high school if high school is supposed to be the best part of my life?

Look guys, what I’m trying to say here is that if anyone tells you that, then they are doing it wrong. High school shouldn’t be the best part of your life. In fact, it should be the very least part.”

He said some other pretty inspirational stuff that I don’t remember but I do very agree with what he said. Maybe if we are at the point in our life where high school seems like the highest point, we need to change something. Maybe we have to look where we are now and think, is this what I really want? Anyways, I hope you keep that in mind, Midnight Writers. Happy new year everybody and see you all next month!

Incandescence’s Literary Investigations Hello and welcome to my fourth book review! Today, I’m going to be discussing another one of Mitch Albom’s works, The First Phone Call from Heaven. Internationally known for being a versatile and talented writer, Albom once again brings the magic for this novel, in which residents from a tiny town on Lake Michigan begin receiving messages from their loved ones.

The thing is, is these phone calls are from people who are dead. There is Katherine, who gets calls from her deceased sister; Tess from her mother Ruth; Jack and Dorene from their son Robbie who died in combat. Their reactions, grateful, confused, and longing, are shown to the reader, along with their desire to not let the dead stay dead. They truly believe that their loved ones are somehow able to communicate from the afterlife. And of course, there are the skeptics. Sully, a disgraced ex-pilot, is determined to get to the bottom of this and expose the entire situation as a hoax when his son starts expecting a call from his late mother. Amy, a reporter, is sent to cover this issue in Coldwater, and this fascinating case makes the national news, creating a worldwide phenomenon in which many flock to this town in the hopes of somehow connecting with loved ones who have passed. And with that, I leave you for this month. Read on!

Special thanks to Sra. Steele, The Masked Lady, Incadencence, Eos, Andromeda, HMscorpio, Celia Bowen

3

Annoyed At First Sight

By Lucifer

I want to resurrect the person who invented small talk just to punch them in the face.

You’ve ruined my life. When someone asks me how my day is, I usually say, “Good.

You?” It’s short and sweet, but you don’t understand, I constructed it deliberately like that. The first sentence answers the question about my day and indicates my unwillingness to elaborate, and the second sentence is to distract you from my curt response by directing the same question to you. But no one seems to understand the purpose of my short and sweet response, because there are always unwelcome follow-up questions. You don’t understand. Small talk is just unnecessary to me because I just wanted to say, “Hi.” Why is it unnecessary? It’s called ‘being polite.’ You still don’t get it. I’m a quiet person who keeps my personal life quiet and would like it if other people did the same.

Therefore, there’s no reason for people to know about my day because I don’t care about theirs. There are people that just don’t matter enough to me. Why do they need to know anything? Why can’t people get on with their lives? They’re not going to ask questions about me on Jeopardy, so stop asking. I feel like I live in a glass house desperately hiding under a blanket and people who ask follow-up questions love to break into my useless house and forcefully steal my protective blanket away. To those of you who still haven’t connected the dots, small-talk is unnecessary, because it’s an act of cruelty wrapped with supposed politeness. So, to the girl in my math class who expects me to wait for her everyday after class, when I’m backing away from you, take the hint, it means the conversation needs to end. Let’s just say hello and slowly back away from each other from now on, because anything more is too tiring and bad for my health. I don’t to pretend to be interested in the conversation. Just be rude from now on, I insist.

However, nothing gets me more hyped on anxiety than teachers who pick students randomly. Here’s a shout out to all the teachers out there who called on me when I avoided eye contact! You have a very special place in my heart called the You Make My Anxiety Worse Hall. Oh, but let’s not forget the teachers featured on the You Make Me Want To Cry Wall who’ve mocked me for being too quiet! I was a shy kid to begin with and

4

I understand calling on me was supposed to make me participate more, but the plan obviously backfired. Even to this day, public speaking makes me cry on the inside, right where You Make My Anxiety Worse Hall and You Make Me Want To Cry Wall are located.

Not even my parents understand my introvertedness. I don’t just lock myself in the house, I lock myself in my room. Most of the time, I don’t even want to associate with my family during the weekend. I need to spend time away from anything breathing to

recharge. The only judgy voice I need to hear is the one inside my head but my recharge station (my room) has been infested with my sister ever since she’s come home from college. My quiet evenings are gone and locking the door isn’t even an option unless I want to be murdered by my mother. All I want is to feel lonely… All I have to do is keep suffering until I can finally afford to move into a place strong enough to keep people from breaking in and stealing my protective blankets.

“Blue Mountains,” Photograph by Celia Bowen

Maria part 2

By Andromeda

We’re sitting on the bed after she’d moved it back. It took a little convincing, but eventually, she got me to sit down next to her. I figured that if I even tried to leave she’d probably be able to stop me with her magical levitation powers.

Plus, I won’t lie, a part of me was curious about the girl who suddenly appeared in my room.

“This,” she said, “was my mother’s book of incantations.

She gave it to me when I was a little girl.”

“Incantations?”

“Yes, she was a witch,” she replied, her hand trailing over the worn leather cover, where letters I don’t recognize are etched. “And so was I.” “I see….”

She looks down, “I know that sounds crazy.”

“Not any crazier than ghosts.”

Her eyes trace back up to me and she smiles, “I guess not.”

After a pause she continues, “So the reason I need your help is that I need to pass on, but I can’t do that because I was murdered. I can’t remember who did it, or when it happened. In fact, I can’t remember any of the details about my death. I just know that I must have been killed, or I wouldn’t be here. In order to pass on, I must remember how I died.”

“So how exactly does this book help us?”

She opened the book and started turning pages, “This book contains a memory spell, one that should help me gain my memories back. Once I can gather all the ingredients I can enact the spell and set myself free.”

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with me? How

do I fit into all this?”

Her blue eyes looked into mine pleadingly, “I can’t get all the ingredients together because I can’t leave the property where I was killed. You’re the only one who’s seen me ever since I’ve died, and that was almost seventy years ago.

You must help me; otherwise, I’ll be doomed to haunt this house forever.”

I study her face and see her desperation. I can’t just leave her like this. If what she’s saying is true, then I’m the only one who can help her.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

As it turns out, gathering all the ingredients for the spell wasn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. There was a list of twelve ingredients, and as I went down the list, each one seemed more vague and difficult to find than the last. Not to mention it was all in Latin. Thankfully, Maria could remember some of the ingredients and how to find them from when she was alive.

Other ingredients were too difficult to recall, and those took quite a bit of searching on Google. The first few were anise, ginger, and lavender. But after that, it got weird: Pig’s feet, owl feathers, beetle toes, and fairy wings. I didn’t know where the hell to find fairy wings, but supposedly there was a few that Maria’s mom had kept hidden around the house. As for the herbs, I went to my dad to get them. He was ecstatic, thinking I’d finally taken a real interest in plants.

Some of the ingredients were harder to come by, and since I had school for most of the day, then track in the afternoons, it was difficult to find enough time to track them down. Not that I minded, really. In the couple weeks I spent looking for ingredients, I got to know Maria more and more. I

found out that her family had emigrated here from Europe hundreds of years ago after facing persecution in the witch trials. They fled to Salem, to be with others in their community until they inevitably had to move again. They lived here in Washington for fifty years, and then Maria was born. Her mother was a widow, as her father died before she was born, so she only ever had her mom to rely on. Growing up, Maria was very playful and extroverted. She had a lot of friends and was very intelligent, studying and reading books all the time. After being dead for so long, she said it felt like some of those parts of her that enjoyed life and celebrated it were gone. She could only reflect on the past, unable to enjoy food or travel past the chains that bound her, and knowing that the people she once loved were long gone only made it more painful.

After hearing her story, it only made me more determined to help her.

But it was that much harder to realize I’d never see her again once I did.

“This is the last of it,” I said and tossed the pig’s feet onto the table with a grunt. I wrinkled my nose at the foul smell.

Maria stood next to me, looking over the table of ingredients she’d laid out neatly. Her hands were twisting in front of her, shaking slightly.

“I can’t believe this is it,” she whispered.

I looked down. “Yeah.”

“Well, let’s get started.”

Maria started tossing the ingredients into a large pot and read the book carefully, speaking a foreign language. The pot hissed and boiled. I was standing a fair distance away, not wanting to mess anything up or break the trance-like state she was in.

Suddenly, she turns to me and says, “I need your help, the last ingredient is fresh blood.”

I gulped, but agreed.

Once I was standing over the pot, she hands me a knife, strange carvings decorating its blade. Carefully, I slice the blade across my thumb and hold it over the brew. The sting of pain makes me hiss. The heat of the stove causing me to break out in a sweat.

She said, “et nunc in sanguine hac vita, mihi quod peto revelare.”

Then, the pot stopped boiling.

With a burst of green smoke, the pot shook, and the smoke

“Towards the Light,” Photograph by The Calico 5Cat

rushed into Maria’s face. I stepped back, eyes wide, as she inhaled it and her eyes changed color to a bright amber. With a gasp, she collapsed to the floor, coughing.

Quickly, I rushed over to help her up.

“Are you ok?”

Her hand shook in mine, the other covered her mouth. “I know how I died. There was a man. A break in, and he had a gun. He thought no one was in the house, but we returned home early. When we arrived,

he panicked and aimed the gun at mom. She tried to tell him she wouldn’t call the cops, he could take whatever he wanted. But he wouldn’t listen. He was frantic. And then, there was a shot. I looked at mom thinking it was her, but she was fine. No, the one he shot was me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Eric I--” She tried to get a word in but she started violently coughing again. When her face met mine, her eyes were

dull. Blood seeped from in between the fingers covering her mouth.

“Oh my god Maria, you’re bleeding!”

“I know Eric, I think I’m--” she starts coughing again and more blood pours out, some spilling onto the floor. “I think I’m dying again. For real this time.”

“What?! No! You can’t die like this!” I grasped her hand tighter in mine. “This was supposed to save you, not hurt you!”

“It’s okay, Eric, this is how it’s meant to be. Thank you, for everything.”

Then, her eyes went blank and she fell limp. I grabbed her before she could hit the floor, her cold, weightless body slumping down. I closed her eyes so they would no longer stare lifelessly back at me, and as I held her, her body began to fade away.

For better or worse Maria was gone. I hope that she finally found peace.

How to Tell a True SAT Story

clipping my seatbelt, I opened the door to step outside.

My mother grabbed my arm.

“Jessica, remember that no matter your score, your father and I will always be proud of you.”

A rictus on my face, I grunted an affirmative. My nerves seemed to have robbed me of my voice. Satisfied, my mother released me.

Lining up behind the people already there, my hands shook. Although my mother was trying to reassure me, she had just done the exact opposite. Remembering my parents shuttling me back and forth from tutoring and taking the time out of their busy day to sit down and help me with math only made my sense of dread grow. When I would inevitably get my awful scores, I would have let not only myself, but also my parents down.

A voice broke me out of my brooding. “Jessica? Is that you?”

I looked up to see Yukai, my childhood friend beaming at me. We were good friends in elementary school, but she had moved to Washington by the time middle school had started. I had always had a bit of a crush on her, and seeing her now made it very clear to me that it was coming back.

Abruptly aware that I was rocking the hobo look, while she was donning a fashionable dress, I screamed internally.

Luck was just not on my side today, and the main event hadn’t even started. Human interaction was exhausting for me on a good day, but add in a pretty girl whom I still had feelings for, and the stress of going through the torture that were the SATs in less than an hour was just too much for me.

Against all odds, I managed to act like a functioning human being in front of her, and didn’t even stumble over any of my words. Of course, my hands only shook more. I tried to hide them by stuffing them into my pockets. By the time 7:45 rolled around, the crowd had grown exponentially. Yukai got her room assignment and left me with a smile. I was up next.

The old, hefty woman standing behind the desk glared at me. “Name?” she barked.

“You’re in room 233.” She bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile. I could feel them inching towards me to take a piece of my soul. I gulped and scampered off.

Okay, 230, 231, 232, 234.

Wait. Where was my classroom? After frantically running around the hallways for

ten minutes, I finally found it.

Thankfully, they hadn’t started checking people into the classroom yet. Another ten minutes passed; the other classes were already seated and beginning the test. A woman came down to tell us that our proctor didn’t show, and that they were trying their best to find a substitute.

Before, when I would have given anything to move the testing date backwards, now I was praying that the stupid test would just be done soon.

Finally, someone showed up; we were seated and the booklets were handed out. However, our substitute clearly didn’t know what she was doing; she couldn’t answer my simple query about the background questions, so I made my best guess and hoped that the test would be graded successfully.

Finally, the SATs began. I flipped to the first passage; the words blurred together and made no sense. “Five minutes left,” the procter called. In a movie or book, the protagonist would get a final burst of power and things would click; unfortunately for me, this was not fiction. Instead, hot tears sprang to my eyes. Resisting the urge to lie down and make dying whale noises, I bubbled in random answers, finishing

By Incandescence

6

By the time my alarm had rung at 6:30, I was already up, showered, and dressed. The nightmare that I had woken up late and missed the test had me jerking awake in terror a full hour earlier than I was scheduled to. Heading out to the kitchen, I dismissed my mother’s offer of eggs and sausage with a quick shake of my head. The butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach would no doubt not be too happy with their wouldbe neighbours, as if I didn’t already feel like throwing up.

As soon as I got into the car, I opened my bag and for the seventh time, checked that I had everything: ID, twelve sharp number two pencils, a water bottle, a snack, my calculator, backup calculator, spare batteries, and my admission ticket with two extra copies just in case I lost the first.

Although I arrived a full half hour before the testing doors even opened, I knew that sitting in the car with my mom, who was trying to cheer me up, would be even worse. Un-

just as the timer rang. Then came the worst part of all: the essay.

After handing in two pages of absolute nonsense that didn’t even have a conclusion, I ran as fast as I could out of the wretched place. When I came come, I collapsed on my bed. I had really my chances

at a good score to hell. All the hours of prep I had done, all the time and effort and money invested into trying to get me a high score was all useless.

I had done dozens of practice tests, watched countless Youtube videos, turned down plans with my friends to do well on this. But every question on

the SAT test I had taken today seemed to be designed to kill me. They scrambled up the words, and seemed to change into an entirely different one every time I tried to solve it.

All I could do now was cry.

And cry I did. I wailed loudly enough to rival the neighbour’s newborn baby.

Finally it was D-Day: the day the scores were released.

Shaking, I logged into College Board and braced myself.

A near perfect score flashed up on the screen.

A fluke, maybe, but I wasn’t going to complain. I cried again, this time tears of pure joy.

Twice Upon a Now

appeared here,” said Ella.

“I was supposed to visit my grandmother and when I opened the door to her cottage I appeared here,” said Rosa.

“Do you think the sorceress who turned you into a frog brought us here?”

“Perhaps,” said Alieus shrugging. “I’m at least human now.”

It was starting to get dark, so they decided to stay in the building Rapunzel had appeared in. Since Alieus broke the window when he got thrown out, they moved a wardrobe in front of it. The place was entirely furnished, yet no one seemed to live in it. Alieus and Rapunzel, being the eldest of the four, took turns staying up to make sure it wasn’t someone’s home. By morning, they confirmed that no one lived there.

“Whoever sent us here most likely left this place for us,” said Ella going through the kitchen and making breakfast. “How do you work this thing?”

“There are knobs on it.

Maybe you turn it?” Rapunzel asked, turning one of the five knobs on a metal-like thing.

The two girls yelped when fire appeared. “This must be where you cook! That’s incredible!

Does it not require wood?”

“Incroyable! Incredible!”

Ella exclaimed, taking out pots and pans. Rosa and Alieus examined the large black box in the main room. It was very thin and large. When Rosa pushed a button on the bottom

of the box, a light was emitted from it. People inside the box started moving and talking.

“Woah. What is this?” Alieus asked, shocked.

“Why are they in there? Are they trapped?” Rosa asked, worried as she pressed her hand against it. “Is this glass?

How do they fit in that?”

“They’re like moving portraits!” Alieus exclaimed in wonder. He then noticed a small device on the table.

“What is this?”

He pressed the green button on it and the moving portrait box turned off. When he pressed it again, the box turned back on. The arrow

keys changed what they saw on it. Rosa spent a lot of her time changing it.

“What will happen when we run out of food?” Ella asked worriedly.

“I will go out and find some.

Do we have any money?”

Alieus asked searching his pockets.

“You’ll have to get a job.

We all don’t have any money,” said Rapunzel, crossing her arms. Alieus’s eyebrows raised. He was the Frog Prince, he never had a job before. Alieus was willing to get one, however.

“Alright. How will I get a job?”

By Blue Serendipity “We’re centuries ahead of our time,” said Rapunzel, shocked. The four looked around in wonder.

“Where is the United States of America?” Ella asked, frowning.

“Maybe it’s a new land? It may be England in the 21st century, after all, everyone here speaks English,” said Alieus, “Then the sorceress who turned me into a frog must be gone!”

“You were a frog?” Rosa gasped with wide eyes. “How did you become a human again?”

“A princess threw me out the window and when I fell, I turned back into a human and appeared in this strange place,” explained Alieus, “Although I do hope I don’t meet any princesses here.”

“I am a Princess,” said Rapunzel, frowning.

“Well, you’re a beautiful Princess, that’s different,” said Alieus, sheepishly trying to cover up what he had said before. “How did you end up here?”

“I was supposed to meet the man who had helped me escape my tower before going to the palace. When I opened the window to the tower, however, I appeared here.”

“I was doing what my step-mother told me and went to sweep the porch. When I walked outside, however, I

“Big Doggo,” Illustration by Deranged Blue Cloud

7

Un-Resolute

Resolutions Are Stupid

By Lucifer

By Eos

Last year, my New Year’s resolution was to stop eating desserts completely This year, I ate desserts whenever I felt like it Because life is too short to miss out on brownies.

Last year, I vowed to dress to blend in with the norm This year, my closet is entirely my norm, not someone else’s.

Last year, I swore to quit drinking soda because of the sugar levels This year, I drink soda at restaurants, because why not?

Last year, I wanted to watch what everyone else was watching This year, I don’t care if everyone is obsessing over Stranger ThingsI’ll always love Gravity Falls no matter what.

Last year, I resolved to use social media more This year, I finally unplugged and distanced myself From the toxicity that is social media.

Last year, I trapped myself in resolutions That were untrue to who I am And what life is truly aboutBeing happy.

This year, I broke free.

Un-resolute.

Satisfaction

By HMscorpio

Happy, Satisfied It makes you feel accomplished Makes you feel prideful

8 “Rockies River,” Photograph by Celia Bowen

Resolutions are stupid. Resolutions are stupid only because I’m terrible at keeping my promises. Sit down. Get comfortable. I’m about to prove why. Ok, so… I promised myself I would sleep more. I promised to keep trying to make new friends. I promised to keep trying at school. I promised to be nicer to someone I hate and I promised ‘friends’ I would keep in touch even after graduation. But even when I’m making the promise, I know I’ve already broken it before I’ve even tried. Here are my excuses why.

First, sleeping more isn’t even possible for me. I can’t sleep at night because there’s so much work to be done and anxiety over grades, college, and the future keep me awake until three or four sometimes.

Second, the only people I see daily are people from school that I’ve known since elementary school. If we aren’t friends already we never will be because I hate you for being part of my worst years -- high school.

Third, it’s senior year and if you know me, you know I hate learning. I’ve been waiting to graduate since middle school. I don’t think it’s possible for me to try any harder at school than I already am. Fourth, do you know how hard it is to try to like someone you absolutely hate? Especially when this girl talks about you to your other friend while you’re standing five feet away. Am I that potato-faced that you can’t even make eye contact with me? Lastly, if I don’t text you regularly now what makes you think I ever will when we’re in college?

However, there’s one more and it’s worse. Get ready to cringe and cry for me at the same time. Every year, I promise myself I’m going to be happy. I know that sounds so cliche but I’ve been waiting for the day I wake up in a Disney movie. Where are the sparkles and talking animals? You can keep the prince, but where’s my fairy godmother/genie? (I have lots of money to wish for.) Other than being able to go to bed early or take a nap, my life never excites me and I’ve forgotten how to be happy when I’m not around my friends. Even then, that same anxiety at night threatens to take over my day. So you can see why being delusionally talking to animals would be great.

So, yeah, resolutions suck because having expectations means eventual disappointment. I wait every New Years to think about the past unsuccessful, depressing year. Someday I might wake up and realize I’m finally happy or more likely, I’ll be on my deathbed regretting every decision I’ve made that’s made my life miserable. (So basically being born, but that was never my choice.) But who knows right? We’ll just have to see.

P.S. If I ever break out into song randomly and wear glass slippers, you’ll know I’ve made it.

Dystopia

By Stella

“Raphaella, the truth is…”

Raphaella Moon was no ordinary girl.

Five months earlier, she stumbled upon the closed doors of Dystopia. Dystopia.

Exactly what the name implied. Every second Raphaella spent in the twisted world was hell. But what bothered her the most was the fact that after searching and searching, she never saw another person, never found those steely doors again. *** He never expected to find the corpse of the twin tail haired girl in from of him.

Her skin was a pale white and her closed eyes seemed like they could fly open at any time. He flinched as a brown haired nurse walked into the room. With one swift motion, he pulled down his hat and walked out of the room, like an unseen shadow cast against the wall. He slipped past the “do not enter” sign and into the dark hallway.

“Oh?” The unmarked door glowed under the moonlight. It was ajar, a mix of black and red smoke spilling from the entrance. He sighed and pulled the door open. He could no longer see anything, his senses blocked out by the darkness in front of him. He let go, and the door clicked behind him.

He felt his way through the narrow hallway and ended up on a tilted platform.

The smoke had cleared enough for him to see bright lights and spiral staircases. Torn pages of books hung on the walls and bonsai trees sprouted from the ground.

Then, he spotted the twin tailed girl, her dark red hair whipping against her face as she threw her sharp, silver knives with precision; the same girl that was pronounced dead in the hospital room four hours ago. A creature with glowing, yellow eyes and black claws dripping with black liquid stood in front of her.

Oh no. That’s not good. Wha-? What is that girl doing?? THAT’S REALLY NOT GOOD. He rushed towards the girl while holding his Glock 23. He took careful aim and fired. Perfect. The black demon-like creature hissed and disappeared in a cloud of red mist. He ran over to the girl “Are you okay?” concern filled his voice as the red haired girl collapsed.

“Thanks for that. I couldn’t kill it with these,” she held up the shining knives.

“Aw, and these got me past the other floors…”

removed the hat, showing his face.

“C-Caleb? W-why?”

She looked up at me for the first time.

“Another human?” the girl dropped her knives in surprise.

“It’s been eight months and I’m finally seeing another real human being! Although I can’t see your face because of that hat...”

“About that…” he looked away. “Raphaella Moon right?”

Raphaella looked surprised. “How did you know that?”

He sighed. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

“Today is April 17th. Your brother’s birthday. Do you remember what happened?”

“No... today is December 12th,” Raphaella tilted her head in confusion.

“Time passes differently in this world.

There was a car accident. Your brother was just accepted in Fraser Academy of the Arts. He was driving you home for a celebration. But he never made it.”

“What? But Caleb…”

“He wasn’t injured too badly. The other car smashed straight into the passenger side of the car. Yes, you took severe damage from it. That was five days ago on April 12th.”

A black haired boy walked up to grave.

Caleb.

“Raphie... you left too soon. I’m sorry.

Your big brother couldn’t protect you.

I’ve been at Fraser Academy of the Arts for a year now. If you were still here, you’d be sixteen now,” he sighed.

“I miss you, Raphie.” He turned to leave.

“Oh...one more thing.”

“Raphaella, the truth is…”

Flashes came back to Raphaella so quickly that her head spun like the wheels of Caleb’s car. Everything hurt. She looked up and was blinded by the light.

“Everything just came back to me. It really did happen. Then... then why am I here and not in the hospital? Am I delusional?” she spoke with fear.

“Raphaella, you died today.”

The twin tailed girl fell to her knees.

“What? No. This can’t be happening.

You...you’re lying! It never happened. It... it was just a dream!”

“Look at me,” he said grimly, as he

The stage around them began to crumble and Raphaella found herself standing in front of her grave.

Raphaella Moon, January 19th to April 17th, she is remembered for her quote, “There is no beginning nor end. Just you.” There was no beginning or end for Raphaella, she fought bravely and continues to live inside our hearts.

9 “An Eye For an Eye,” Illustartion by Shadow

Comet Fruit

By The Masked Lady In the beginning, there was nothing but a black void.

Inside the black void, an elite family dominated the business of planet creation. That family was known as the Star family. No business in the void could defeat their superiority.

After many years of success, the Star family decided to move their business out of the pathetic void, so Project Space was initiated. Space started off with filling the outside void with bits and pieces of star bases. The black void was then officially taken over by the Star family and renamed as The Black Hole. As the Star family’s business grew, so did Project Space. Soon, new projects were established, such as Project Galaxies, Novas, Asteroids, and more. The Star family was filled with many generations of stars. There were the Red Giants who ran the top tiers of the business, which included moving money around and funding projects. The Blue Dwarfs were the spokespeople. The White Dwarfs were the ones that created projects. And the Yellow Dwarfs were the scientists in the projects. Soon, Project Space had grown exponentially, to the point where there were millions of star bases and planets. The numbers of galaxies created exceeded the Star family’s expectations, but that was a very good thing: it meant more profit. Soon, a new project, Project 13657, also known as The Milky Way, commenced. The Milky Way was a project specifically designed for harvesting resources. Soon after the project began, it was given to Sun, the 72nd son in the Yellow Dwarf family. There, he created his

10

first star base where he was given the job of starting the planet farm.

“This is boring!” Aurora whined as she slumped against my shoulders.

“This is important, so quit your whining,” I groaned.

I closed the history textbook and let out a deep sigh. I had been trying to teach Aurora history about our father’s family business for four hours and we were still at square one.

“Why do we need to learn this anyway?” Aurora pouted.

“Because history is important,” I grumbled.

“Oh yeah? I think it’s stupid,” she laughed. She hopped up onto her feet and began prancing around me. I rolled my eyes as she continued goofing off like the child that she was.

Aurora and I are siblings created by Father. We were his first scientific experiment of creating life. Originally, Father’s plan was to create a child to live with him at he Sun base. But the experiment ended up having an error, which resulted in two children, which, as my father always tells us, was a happy accident.

Everything about Aurora and I are the same. We both have bright blond hair and pale skin.

No matter how much we age, our height has always been equal to each other. You could say we’re clones of each other.

Except my sister is a crazy lunatic that loves attention and just won’t stop jabbering.

Before I could go back to my failing history lesson, someone walked into the room.

“Father!” Aurora gasped in delight.

She ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him.

He gave out a soft smile and ruffled her hair as she continued squealing. I rolled my eyes as I continued flipping through my book.

“Space Is So Co-oo-oo-ol,” Illustration by The Masked Lady

“What brings you here?”

“I was wondering if you two wanted to join me on my trip to the Asteroid Market today,” Father replied.

“Really? I want to go!” Aurora began cheering.

Father glanced over towards me, only to find my face hiding behind my book about star evolution. “Sol?” Father called out. “Won’t you come with us?”

Father knows how much I hate leaving the lab. The outside world is disgusting and filled with people. Why would I ever want to go out there? I peeked over my book to see Father now holding Aurora up in his arms. She giggles in delight as he swings her easily in the air as if she weighed nothing. After a couple of spins, he sets her down gently.

He glances back at me and chuckles.

“Sorry, Sol, but we’re all going.”

“What?” I cried in shock “Yay! We’re going!” Aurora cheered.

“I thought I had a choice!” I yelled.

“Well, you did, but then I changed my mind.” Father

chuckled.

I groaned as Father grabbed my arm and literally began dragging me out of the room.

“Come on, Sol! It’ll be fun.” *** The Asteroid Market is an annual event where people from different planets come and sell their products. There you can buy stardust, spaceship parts, solar cabbage, and Comet Fruit. We all know Comet Fruit far too well. Over a year ago, Father brought a box of Comet Fruit home hoping to test new stem cells.

But after a couple of minutes, he found out Aurora had eaten all of it. Father began buying more of this strange fruit for Aurora, but later found out too late that Aurora was only eating Comet Fruit and nothing else. Now, Aurora is restricted to only one Comet Fruit per day, which has made her more annoying.

When we finally arrived at the market, Father told us we could go explore, but we weren’t allowed to touch anything. The Market was bustling with creatures from

“Comet Fruit,” Illustartion by The Masked Lady

various galaxies. There were Blubbers selling their famous bubble meats, Squidnesters selling their special inks that could fuel many devices, and even Salmands who were selling their questionable CDs. I held onto Aurora, knowing the consequences if I lost her.

After walking for some time we found ourselves in front of a Comet Fruit stand. Selling the fruit was a black Globble.

Globbles run the business of Comet Fruit since their skin is resistant to the heat of comets, and their many tentacles can collect the fruit in immense speed. I knew Father would punish me if Aurora managed to eat more of this devilish fruit, so I tried pulling her away. But before I could do so, Aurora wrenched herself away from my grasp and ran over to gossip with the Globble. I quickly rushed over and grabbed Aurora’s arm.

“You are not allowed to eat any more Comet Fruit today,” I hissed.

“Chill out, bro, I’m just looking,” she sighed as she continued admiring the fruit.

“Eurg Bleug De Sauth?” the Globble gargled.

“We are just passing by,” I replied nervously as I tried pulling Aurora away from the stand.

I looked back at Aurora to find a freaking Comet Fruit in her mouth.

“Bleh Arng De Blarh!” The Globble began to shriek in anger.

“Aurora, what do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.

But it was too late; Aurora had already eaten it.

The Globble stared at Aurora, lost for words. Before I could try to apologize for Aurora’s awful behavior, the Globble began screaming.

“ARGGGHEUAHHHDUUHHHHHH!” the Globble let out an ear-splitting shriek.

Globbles are known to be peaceful creatures. Their planet has never had wars with blood and mayhem, all due to their unique culture of screaming. Instead of fighting, Globbles have screaming contests to see who faints first from ear damage. Their screams are so powerful that a normal person would lose their hearing after just a few seconds of exposure to this sound.

The Globble continued screaming, causing nearby windows to shatter and innocent bystanders to faint. Judging by the Globble’s reaction, I figured the Globble was not happy about Aurora eating his fruit. The Globble’s screams continued to cause chaos in nearby surroundings. Luckily, Aurora and I possess ears with an ability to withstand incredibly high pitched frequencies, but that didn’t stop the Globble’s shriek from going to even higher pitches. I turned toward Aurora to find that she had already eaten two more Comet Fruits.

“ARGHHHHUUAUHAHUAUHH!” I stood there, dumbfounded at the situation, as Aurora

“Space Is Still So Co-oo-oo-ol,” Illustration by The Masked Lady

continued eating fruit as if she had done nothing wrong.

The Globble waved its arms around like it was having a seizure, whacking everything in its path. Before all hope was lost, I saw my father running toward us. He stopped in front of us in shock, unable to say anything. He looked at Aurora, the screaming Globble, and me and was able to put together what had happened. He turned toward the Globble, straightened his tie, and began calling out to the Globble. After a period of waving arms and shouting, the Globble stopped screaming. Father ended up paying double the price of the fruit that Aurora had eaten as an apology to the Globble.

But due to the damages the event caused, Father ended up paying extra fines, including hospital bills. After the whole ordeal, we were kicked out of the market.

We sat in my father’s rocket shuttle as we flew away from the market. Father let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead, trying to accept reality.

“Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?” Father sighed in disappointment.

Aurora shrugged and continued minding her own business.

Father shook his head in defeat and turned towards me.

“Sol, do you have anything to say?”

The only thing I could say from this whole fiasco was, “ I hate Comet Fruit.”

Space

By HMscorpio Want to explore there Mysteriously darken That is outer space

“Floating,” Illustartion by Wilted Rose

11

Morton Tries to be Human Part I

By Eos

Most likely, you know what regret feels like. After all, it is a common human emotion, exhibited by every human being on planet Earth at at least some point in their miniscule, menial existence. So, it might seem strange when I say that no one knows what my regret feels like. But it’s not. At least not to me. To you, I suppose the fact that I am a purple sixfoot alien standing in a Walgreens in, what I believe is, genuinely, the middle of nowhere (my human GPS identifies this region as “Idaho”) buying a box of raisins would theoretically be more strange.

I hate that word. Alien. My human dictionary defines “alien” as one who “differs in nature or character typically to the point of incompatibility.” All these human devices, all these human regrets, and I’m still the furthest thing from human.

Alien. A sudden beeping noise snaps me out of my merciful train of thought.

“Do you have a credit card, um...Sir?” I give a polite smile to the Walgreens cashier - apparently humans love polite inauthenticity.

“Call me Morton. Please.”

I extend a purple hand. The cashier shirks away from my grip as I predicted, and yet again the thought rings in my head that I’ll never achieve human normalcy.

“It appears I do not have a credit card. However, I have European dollars, milk chocolate, and one inflatable duck.”

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The cashier looks at me with a face containing emotions that I discern as shock and disgust.

“Hey, what planet are you from, man? We only accept U.S. dollars, not inflatable ducks!”

I begin to grow frantic - I need to buy these raisins.

I firmly set the box on the counter.

“Ah, I see...But I need to buy this product, sir. I need it for a rather personal and important reason, though it may seem odd. Is some sort of special arrangement possible?

The inflatable duck is rainbow colored!”

I heard humans like rainbow colored objects, as the colors are aesthetically pleasing to the eye. However, the cashier looks the furthest thing from pleased. He appears to have suddenly attained a fire extinguisher in his hand. I point to it.

“Is there a fire, sir?”

“I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU, OOMPA LOOMPA MAN! SCRAM!” Fire extinguisher fluid gets in my eyes, blurring my vision and staining my purple suit.

I make way for the exit, but before I do, I grab the box of raisins, ignoring the rampant shouts of the Walgreens cashier. Luckily, my short-distance teleportation device is fully charged, and I use it to propel me approximately 10 miles away. As I’m hurtling through the air, I notice tears falling into the clouds below. My tears. I dab my eyes with a handkerchief as rapid thoughts cloud my head. Why do I even try to fit in a society that has already labeled me as an outsider? Why did I leave my home planet? Why don’t humans like rainbow

colored objects as much as I thought they would? I should have known coming here to gather the extensive materials needed to build a time travel machine to go back in time and save my sister Morticia from the Third Planetary War was futile - I’m not even an inventor! As I think, I notice I’ve been involuntarily “stress eating” the raisins, as humans might say in the twenty first century. This causes even more tears to fall. Great. At that exact moment, the charge of my short-distance teleportation device dies out, causing me to hurtle approximately 5,000 feet through the air onto the ground below. This day just keeps getting better and better. Screaming, I hurtle down toward Earth, eventually landing on a muddy patch of grass. I hope six-foot tall purple men hurtling through the sky holding a box of raisins is not an unusual occurrence that may shock the civilians here. I look around, and see an older, but not quite elderly, woman sitting on the ground. She is sitting on a dirty, pink blanket, and her clothes could at best be described as raggedy;

mud cakes her shirt and face.

But I can still make out her unusually round, bright green eyes, which are staring directly at me. I prepare for explicit human words or pepper spray, but instead, she waves.

“Is this the coming of the apocalypse, purple man?

Because if so, I’m absolutely ready. Zombies, take me now!”

She proceeds to cackle. At this point I suppose everything is pointless - my teleportation device is dead, I have no American currency, and I stress-ate all the raisins. Might as well just own up to my alien status.

“Morton, if you will,” I begin, “and I just had a slight malfunction with my short-distance teleportation device. It ran out of charging power, which I should have thought to purchase at my home planet of Zadia before I left-” At this, the woman’s eyes bulge out far further than what I assume is a regular human volume.

“So it worked…” she whis-

“The Witch of Space,” Illustration by Teresa

pered, eyes growing larger by the second. “Erm…” “You still got an inflatable duck? I love those human things…”

I begin to slowly back away, gathering my teleportation device. My voice trembles as I speak.

“How do you know I have an inflatable duck? And did you just call it a human thing?”

Before I can run, suddenly she is right in front of me, blocking my way. Did she just teleport? At this point I notice her eyes have grown to occupy almost all of her face,

Space Puppies

By HMscorpio If you like Space Kitties, you’re definitely going to like Space Puppies! Now in Digital 3D, you can see the puppies in action. Bella the pink poodle astronaut puppy who can turn any boring beige planet into bling. Max the green Jack Russell terrier puppy can throw a boring place in outer space into a huge party.

Then there is Lilly the yellow Yorkshire Terrier puppy who uses light to see through black holes in outer space. Chet the blue Siberian Husky puppy who can turn anything into ice.

And finally, Walter the orange Beagle puppy who can make fire in space.

Watch the puppies go on an adventure through space to defeat the evil Kitty Dynamo, who wants to turn all the planets into cat planets. What are we going to do?

You know who. It is Space Puppies to the rescue. They are just average pet puppy dogs by day, but at night they fight

big round circles that, at the moment, look very terrifyingly happy. I thought I was the only alien in the state of Idaho, let alone planet Earth.

ing in the middle of a muddy field with this demonic woman and regretting everything.

“What do you want?” I say.

She smiles, showing off her distinctly alien molars.

“It worked! I successfully installed a tracker device on your GPS, and shot down your teleportation device with a human rifle!”

I sigh.“Okay, it’s great that you sabotaged my genius plan, strange lady, but what. Do. You. Want!?”

“Call me Lieutenant Sky. And for your information, I’m doing anything but sabotage. I want to help. I knew Morticia during the Third Planetary War. I saw you on my planet’s news station for your daring journey to Earth, and initially I feared for you. Turns out I was right. There are people watching you, Morton. Like right now. Don’t look behind you, but there’s a gigantic missile headed straight toward us.”

I’m getting frustrated stand-

This is too much to process.

crime in space.

Get ready as they go into their bone shaped spaceship into the galaxy. Max the leader. Lilly the space shuttle pilot. Chet the chef. Bella the interior designer of the space shuttle.

Walter the facts communicator.

They all have special jobs as they go on their mission to save the day. Watch the dogs get into their spacesuits, while

Kitty Dynamo and his minions are about to turn Mars into Meowrrs. The puppies are saving the day. They push, shove, punch, kick, and pounce on the minions to get to Kitty Dynamo’s Katty Ray that turns planets into cat planets.

Finally, the ray is destroyed by none other than Chet, who brought his chopped bacon to the mission. He puts the bacon

Before I even begin to move, Lieutenant Sky grabs my teleportation device, miraculously reboots it, and we manage to jet off before the missile reaches us (Stellar advantages of the latest teleportation model). I have so many questions, but for once, my mind is somewhat silenced. Riding off into the sunset with a strange woman, about to embark on a distinctly not human adventure, and having absolutely no idea what will happen next, the only emotion I feel is, for once, satisfaction.

into the Katty Rays engine as it bursts and explodes. The Space Puppies catapult Kitty Dynamo into space. The Space Puppies have saved the day once again! Now, it is time for them to go back home by day to be cute, innocent little puppies, again.

Till next time Space Puppies.

Goodbye.

“Infinity,” Photograph by The Calico 13 Cat

“Ending...I,” Manga by Aya Hatashima ( Read from right to left)

La Dame de Fer

By Cheryl Zhang Mrs. Hubbard sat in her armchair, sipping her morning tea and gazing out her window at the many gardens and pools she owned. The early morning sunlight make the water sparkle and the colors of the flowers even more vibrant than usual. Her grandchildren will be coming to visit today; they have just returned from a trip in Europe.

Slowly, Mrs. Hubbard made her way down to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Before long, the doorbell rang. When Mrs. Hubbard opened the door, she was overwhelmed by her three grandchildren, all holding boxes, screaming, “Grand-

14

ma!”

“My, what are all these boxes for?” she asked with a chuckle.

“They’re presents for you, Grandma! From Europe!”

Mrs. Hubbard smiled and hugged them all.

“Come in, come in. You have the sweetest children, my dears,” she said to her daughter and son-in-law.

After breakfast, Mrs. Hubbard opened the boxes and found souvenirs from places all over Europe. She hugged her grandchildren, who she loved dearly.

“Grandma, can we play in the gardens?”

“Sure,” she said.

The kids ran outside, and then her daughter said, “Mother, we brought you something else. I remembered the story you told us about Papa, and I brought you this.”

She reached into her pocket

and pulled out a small box.

Mrs. Hubbard took it in her frail hands and slowly opened it. Her eyes misted over and she took out the object inside.

“La Dame de Fer,” she whispered, a smile ghosting her lips. “The Iron Lady.”

And suddenly, she could hear her husband’s voice in her mind’s eye, telling her, “One day I’ll take you to the city of love. We’ll see the Eiffel Tower at night on a boat on the river. The locals call it The Iron Lady.”

Mrs. Hubbard was a hardworking woman. As soon as she had graduated college, she started a company, but it did not start out successful. She soon had to decide between her job and spending time with her husband, and she chose her job. That meant that every time her husband brought up traveling, she said “Maybe

next year.” Then the accident happened, and her husband was gone. She was left alone in her mansion with more money than she ever imagined making. But that couldn’t replace the hole in her heart her husband had left. She would never visit the Eiffel Tower with him, she would never go to Paris with him; she would never even see him again.

A few tears ran down her cheeks, and she embraced her daughter.

“Regret is a terrible thing.

Don’t ever make a mistake you might regret as much as I regret my mistakes.”

That night when Mrs. Hubbard went to sleep, she dreamed that she was curled up against her husband, watching the Eiffel Tower from a boat on the river. She died peacefully in her sleep.

Santa, Not Satan Part 4

By Incandescence Although night was falling, for Shayla, Karen, and Fabia, their adventure was just starting. After making a batch of delicious red velvet cupcakes and watching several episodes of The Night Shift, it was time to get glammed up.

With intense focus, usually reserved for chess grandmasters, the girls picked rifled through Shayla’s closet to find the perfect outfit for each of them.

Now clad in a sequined rainbow dress, Fabia pranced down the hallway and struck an over-the-top pose, lips pursed to make a silly expression. Beside her, Karen doubled over in laughter as Shayla did a mock golf clap and proclaimed that Fabia’s outfit of the day was an 11 out of 10.

After each girl had had her chance at walking the runway, they each picked out a color and settled down to paint their nails. Eventually, the topic of conversation turned to boys.

Karen leaned in close, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I heard that Colton has a crush on you, Fabia.”

Fabia gasped. “No way!

Really?” A smile spread over her face. “I mean, I wouldn’t object. He is pretty cute.”

Shayla chimed in. “Really.

I couldn’t help but notice that he kept looking over at you during our class trip to Boston.

Especially on the bus.”

Fabia laughed, her voice giddy. Then, she turned to Shayla. Raising her eyebrows, she spoke. “So, how’s it going with Arnav? Any progress?”

Shayla groaned. “Nothing!

I thought he liked me, but he hasn’t done anything! Maybe it was all in my head. But I can’t seem to get him out of my head!”

Karen rested her hand on Shayla’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s just shy. Or maybe he doesn’t think you’re interested.”

Shayla threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t think that’s possible. I’ve been wearing my cutest outfits just for him for weeks now. Plus, I’ve made sure to laugh at all his bad jokes. I just don’t think he’s into me.”

Fabia and Karen made reassuring noises and hugged Shayla. Then, turning to the final member of their group, Shayla and Fabia starting interrogating Karen.

“Seen any cute guys lately?”

Karen scoffed. “No way!

There are no cute guys around here. And besides, their personalities are just bad.”

Fabia fell backwards dramatically, letting the pillows catch her. “Why are boys so complicated? Is there someone that can just tell us what they’re thinking?”

Shayla shrugged. Fabia sat up straight. “I have an idea,” she announced.

One hour later, the girls were sitting in front of the supplies they had procured. Thanks to the ever helpful Google, they now had diet Coke from the fridge downstairs, thyme from Shayla’s mom’s spice cabinet, and bleach from the laundry room. The recipe also called for saliva, so Shayla got her bloodhound, Snickerdoodle, who was very good at drooling, to stand over the bowl for a bit. They had to improvise a bit for the last ingredient. They had no goat head, and there was no way they could somehow find one without leaving the house, which was the number one rule the girls’ parents

had set when they had asked to have a sleepover together.

So, Shayla got the next best substitute, which was plastic horse mask that belonged to her younger brother.

With the ingredients stirred together, the candles lit, and the pentagon hastily drawn on the floor of the garage, everything was ready. Surveying the scene, Karen spoke, sounding like she couldn’t believe they were actually doing this.

“Remind me again why summoning Satan is supposed to help us on our quest to get hot boyfriends again?”

Fabia sighed. “Well, Satan’s kind of like God, right? He knows what everyone thinks and all that jazz. But summoning God, AKA praying, hasn’t really done anything for me so far.”

“Yeah, maybe it’s because you’re atheist,” Shayla pointed out.

Fabia waved that aside.

“Whatever. Point is, even if God responded, he would definitely not be willing to give up what boys think. But maybe Satan would.”

Karen sighed. “Okay, okay.

I just want it on record that I think it’s a bad idea.”

“Well, I did actually hear something like this worked for these people in California. It wasn’t this exact scenario, but they got what they wanted,” Shayla said.

“Whatever guys. Chances are this won’t even work and we get a fun story to tell after.

Best case is that it works!

We’ll be known as The Boy Whisperers™ and become famous!” Fabia cheered. “Now sit down and let’s do this!”

Shayla and Karen followed.

Holding hands, they chanted “Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me.”

With a whoosh, the candles went our. From within the pentagon was a black whirlwind,

that grew and grew. Then, it finally stopped. Aside from the red horns, tail, and glowing eyes, the demon looked exactly like a regular guy, dressed in what the girls had dubbed “the frat boy look,” which consisted of polos, boat shoes, and pastel colored shorts.

A hot guy.

“This is amazing,” cried Karen. “I’ll never doubt you again, Fabia.”

The demon spoke, his voice silky smooth. “Good evening.

And what can I help you lovely ladies with today?”

The girls shared excited glances. This was actually happening!

They explained their situation to the demon, whose name was Steve. Although he couldn’t actually make them mind readers, he was able to give them “guaranteed 100% foolproof” advice as to what to do for each girl’s situation.

And in exchange, he had a peculiar payment required.

“My boss finally won joint custody of his daughter and is able to see her again after 99 years apart. His ex is pretty evil, and kept him from seeing his kid for the longest time.”

“That’s awful!” gasped the girls.

“Yup. His ex is pretty much the devil incarnate, or rather, an angel incarnate. It’s her 100th birthday coming up soon, and it’s Satan’s first time ever throwing a birthday party for her. He needs it to be “the best thing ever,” or else his kid might be unhappy and want to go back. So what Satan needs help with is how to throw the greatest party ever, and advice on what the best present to get her is. And I was thinking that since you girls are roughly

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around her age, as humans and demons age differently, that you could pass on some wisdom.”

The girls grinned. They might not be such experts on boys, but this? This is their territory.

Finally, it was the day. the the Underworld, dozens of demons scurried around to set up for Princess Serafina’s first birthday party in Hell.

The party was being held inside the biggest room in the palace: the ballroom. It had been elaborately decorated with things that Serefina liked. As she wanted to be an ice princess, this party was entirely white. There were ice sculptures of things she liked, such as swans and unicorns.

In addition, the ballroom had been enchanted so that there was a constant flurry of snowflakes coming down from the ceiling that disappeared before it reached the guests so their outfits wouldn’t be damaged.

All in all, this room inside the Palace of Hell had been transformed into an ice castle, fit for a princess.

All of Serafina’s friends had been invited. On the schedule were dozens of activities like getting a manicure, baking, ice skating, and laser tag.

Finally, the princess arrived. Stepping out of the dragon-drawn carriage with her two best friends, Serafina surveyed the room for a long moment, allowing everyone to make note of her new silver dress and cape. Then, she descended down the ice steps into the ballroom, a wide smile spreading over her face as she did.

Steve, watching from the back, was relieved. It seemed that she did like the party after all. After telling the girls that had summoned him the dilemma he was in, they had agreed to help, and he followed their

16

advice to a T. The festivities kicked off when with a surprise performance from Serafina’s favorite boy band. After a whirlwind of dessert, nail polish, and movies, came the final surprise.

Satan himself came down to the party. As soon as Serafina saw him, she flew across the room to hug him.

“Oh my God Dad! This has been the best day ever! Thank you!” Serafina cried.

Satan smiled. He still had one more trick up his sleeve.

Snapping his fingers, a dazzlingly white baby unicorn appeared right in front of them.

Since unicorns were actually a part of heaven, Satan had personally gone to the skies to get permission in order to get one and to have it live in Hell.

The authorities in heaven had agreed, and now Serafina had a pet unicorn to raise.

Serafina started crying tears of happiness, and threw her arms around her dad to hug him even more tightly than before. Satan allowed a rare smile to appear on his face.

As fireworks raced through the ballroom skies, Steve left, his work done.

(Back in the mortal realm, Shayla simply confessed her

feelings to Arnav, and found out he felt the same way. Fabia asked Colton out on a date; he happily agreed. As for Karen, she took Steve’s advice to turn around in chemistry class, and found the seemingly perfect guy for her. Maybe Satan wasn’t such a bad guy after all.)

To Be Concluded...

“Satan’s Fourth Gift,” Illustartion by The Masked Lady