Voices by Kasandra Battioni

Voices A Middle School Anthology of Poetry and Short Stories

The poetry and short stories contained herein are written in their original versions by Shekou International School 8th Grade students. Edited and Formatted by Joe Belnap

The Voice by Danny Park

The birdâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s voice Hurtles Against the furious strap Of air My voice Chained Against the back of my throat

The mountain Pushes Against the sky The chain Pulls On my tired arms

The flowers Epitomize beauty My scars Terrorize people Who dare look at them

The cocoa beans My enemy My hope Are in my hands

No One Knowsâ&#x20AC;Ś by Gabriela Bednarova

Chocolate is tasty Chocolate is yummy But chocolate is also bloody Blood comes from slaves Who have to work all day So we can enjoy A chunk of joy I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t believe Such a joy Can cost so much pain For all of us to help While enjoying a bite Seek for fair trade label To know its guilt free

Dancing By Yiyi Wang Just an empty stage. Wooden planks lay side by side, Bolted down against their will Just a lonely stage. Swept over and over Polishing away the signs of old, Of time. Just the sound of the chitter chatter, Of the restlessness, The excitement, Of the eager young and old Coming to escape to this magical world For a while A little while, Maybe. Just the darkness. The silence of the room, The tension in the air. Then, Out of nowhere, it seems Comes the MUSIC! Oh, the glorious sounds of a thousand noisemakers All quieted by a single voice Smooth as honey, Loud as the bang bang of fireworks blooming in the night sky, Effortlessly gliding over notes up and down, Low and high. A roller coaster, Never knowing what twist and turn might come next. Out come the dancers, Skipping over a thousand sharp stones, 5

Gliding their feet over smooth planes Swaying in a flurry of silk. The gentle hello of the fabric flowers fluttering through the air The scratchy sequins clashing against each other for a chance to sparkle in the spotlight, My hair doing its own dance across my arms Leaping through the air I am filled with so much joy, Tears threaten to spill out of my eyes To spread makeup across my face. I am filled with so much emotion that I float up to heaven. I see Ginger Rogers on a cloud of feathers Dancing cheek to cheek. I twirl away to Shirley Temple, Hair whipping and bouncing around our faces Spin after spin. Then I am in the forest, Dancing to the birdsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; sweet songs. Charming me into the sky with them. Forgetting night, Forgetting darkness, Forgetting all of the hatred in the world To find myself back to it Bowing in sorrow.

Death by Jakes Laas

Scattered, Dried up, Grasping for life

Noon, Getting hotter, Like bread in an oven

The smell of death arises, The hour has come, Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run

The crackling of bones Sassing of baking flesh, Foul stench of rotten flesh Fills the dry air

Those that survive, Fight over the last water puddle The last grip of life

Dead, Scattered, Fish

Don't Try by Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t ever try to put me in a cage for I shall be free, Within my hand the coppery chain that held me, now cut in three,

As I struggle with the looming gate, It is you I think of and have learned to hate,

With dagger in hand you stabbed my back, Well look who is laughing now, that the chain has gone slack,

Now I have learned not to trust, Those who tell us we must,

For they will only lock you up silence you forever, This may work with some but I shall be silenced never,

Even if I am not free, You have no power over me,

I shall be who I AM and think what I WANT, Until the day in my grave I shall rot,

You may not suspect it, but on a fortunate day, The heavens knows I'll make you pay, , 8

For what you have done and tried to do, To so many people only god knows who,

This what I think of standing on the outside looking in, Of prison in which you held me, so dank and dim,

I have won though it was a fair fight, Good shall defeat evil; they are dark as we are light,

The darkness that surrounded me now unrecognizable in light, For you put me in that cage and never should have tried.

Get Over the Wall by Sarah Keck We stood in front of the Big Gray Wall, The Wall, cutting us of, from where our Families are. We want to kill them, kill them all, The Men who built it, the Big Gray Wall. We can do this, we are great, we are tall, We can destroy and erase it, the Big Gray Wall. Get our Freedom, get our real Life, Get over the Wall and hold up high, That we are great, that we are tall! And many died, because of the Big Gray Wall.

In the Great Dark Cindy Park

In the great dark The way that she walks Looks like a dance With some romance

Furiously she goes With some good steps How sparkly she does The people will clap

But no one can see her In this great dark And no one will see her In this great dark

United to Separate by Joe Belnap

A suit on a stage above t-shirts The t-shirts chant the suit’s name The suit says “US!” The t-shirts say “WE!”

The suit inspires them to make trouble The t-shirts rise up in hate The suit says it’s “Them!” The t-shirts say “Kill!”

The suit pushes his agenda The t-shits further it The suit thinks “money” The t-shirts think… …or not

Love by Selina Hu

Broken dams and fading memories, Nights in dark with lights and sound, Something moving in the distance, Kill it when it comes around.

Lock it out and in forever, Keep your heart crying alone, Look forever while they think, You think itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s fun to be alone.

Watch and scream and bravely smile, Just remember somehow it will, Always be in a distance of time, All be over in a while.

Let it out and keep it yours, Lock it up and burn it down, Keep it safe and quiet as well, Remember always, to keep it love.

Untitled By Lucy Liu

With the fear of death creeping up on me, The blood of my family spills onto my hands Forcing me to retract from all emotions Hiding from all pain, ignoring all guilt Running from this terror is useless My past holds me by my ankles And drags me back into the darkness I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t run from this, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s who I am A child soldier

The World Is Sick by Alexis Re

Children are born with arms that are meant to touch, Not arms that are meant to kill. Black yellow or white, this is a global ill None of these young arms should hurt that much.

Their childhood stolen from age 5 to 17, This is a call from the poorest teens.

Trained to hurt, meant to kill, Wake up! This is a global ill!

Their school yard has become a battlefield, Yet the only friends left to play with are bombs and guns. Watch out! A new era has begun, In which children are being killed.

Where’s UNICEF? Because this ain’t a self! Every day children are dying, While parents at home keep on crying… What ever happened to values of humanity? Wasn’t it supposed to bring light and equality? Well, corrupt governments the new era has begun and the tables have turned I’m guessing you should start to run!

You out there that can help, Bring fairness and equality. You out there that can help, Bring light and prosperity.

Pain and Sorrow by Dean Hurtado Pain and Sorrow The human hands are tied The compressed whips strike His flesh and bones have tried

Shoot and Score By Nikita Frantz

You stand there, in the middle of the field Hypnotized by the cheering crowd Waiting for the ref to blow his whistle

The smell of blood in the air Makes no man even dare The rusty chains are locked While come guns might be cocked

All this tension sort of makes you proud

Women are screaming The children are crying The men are being beaten While their food is being eaten

The person in front of you kicks the ball

Sweat slowly drips down your face

Guess you didn’t hear the whistle Or your teammate giving your name a call

This is the pain and sorrow You sprint to a guy in red And steal the ball away from him

Slaves by Brian Chung

Dribble the ball to a big huge guy He obviously goes to the gym

Crack As the whip tears my flesh Crack As the pain knocks me down Crack As I moan in pain

There isn’t much time Left in the game You recognize a voice That calls your name

You kick the ball hard In this voice’s direction You hope and hope

Mind by Selina Hu

What you did was perfection

You turn the way

You have the shed lights on it, To hide the truth of it. You have made it so deep,

You just kicked to Your teammate seems To know his cue

To reach the bottom of it. He dribbles the ball

But before you struck the truth, You canâ&#x20AC;&#x;t cut the image in half, While the mirror reflects it in full.

Around each and every defender Quickly makes his way To the center

Still, I love your mind, And not your heart.

This is where you come in Once again You get tensed up And your fists start to clench

You feel the air rushing by you You run and kick the ball Into the net it goes We won!!! Though it was a close call

Slavery poem by Johnson Cao

Should our skin been tour down every day? Should our throat stay dry until night? Should we kneel to a person that we never knew 2 years ago? And who trafficked here? Mother I miss you, But what can I do? Day pass night and night pass day, We suffer as they enjoy. No promises are made, Or it meant they forgotten? Steping out of the room at morning sun, And fresh air flow into my lungs. Loneness surrounds, But nothing could be changed. Our jobs may seem easy, Just because you havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t yet experience. We try to fight against them for freedom, But we failed over and over again. We work, work, and work, Work until when accept the deal from god. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s is to say goodbye forever.

Slavery anonymous SIS 8th Grader

Gripping a long cane in his hand Help up towards the humid sky, A harsh downward whip Blood stung the teary eye

A Soft Hand

A soft hand A white, soft hand A nail polished; white, soft hand A nail polished; white, soft, mutilated hand.

By Deanna Pistono

I wish I could scrub away your arrogance, Your senseless materialism and pathetic self assurance, And most of all, your ability to take things for granted.

You donâ&#x20AC;&#x;t have to live attempting to live another day, Adrenaline barely pumps through your veins at all.

You giggle about celebrities and trivial gossip, Voices as chirpy and irritating as birds at sunrise. While I fend off what would hurt me.

You dance at your lavish, foolish parties, While I dodge bullets as they rain down on me.

I would take solace in the fact, That if the world was in crisis,

You and your kind would go extinct in a mere matter of months, Whilst I would be able to scrape out a living on what remained of Planet Earth. You‟ve lived. I‟ve survived.

What About the Other One? by Chloé Rouillon

Who knows what my future would have been, If I would have taken the other road. I took the one less traveled by, Just as fair as the other one. But who really knows, what they are hiding. Perhaps I could go back and see, Or maybe stay here still. Looking for the end of the road, The beginning from the other way. I could go back and see the other one, But that could be a waste of time. Who knows what is at the end? Nothing

The Torture of Slavery By Victoria Wong

Bonded, Against will, Shackled, by an iron fist until, Blood, from the cuts and wounds, Blood, The stench of it is in my room, Crack! The whip cruelly comes down, Groan, Forced to my knees by my torturer with a frown, Smash, Beaten Black and blue, out I cry, Aggh! Being mercilessly tied, Snap! The camera snaps Ugh, I groan as they tape up the photo on my room, Sob, Every time I look at the photo I know Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m doomed, Sigh, If I Were to ever try and escape slavery once again, Shudder, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be tortured without mercy until the end.

Trapped by Lisa Lu

Thrown in the small, dirty, dark room. After another whip beating. The smell of my salty blood lingers in the air, I look down at the blood stained chains which imprison me. As I hear bloody screams and whips lashing from far away.

Space by Tommy Lee

Standing by, In the space Stars gleaming from The black background Ready to experience the outer world Risky adventure But proudness courage me With braveness Checking again For the last Holding until the Starting signal The lustrous stars brightly welcome me

Vermillion Star by Alice Zhang Crimson hurricane-lily blossoms against canvas of black, Branches twine upwards, Roots encircling, Caging the ebony skeleton, A dark tower swallowing candescence. A writhing dragon, The artificial sun swirls noiselessly, Painting motionless wind with bitter hydrogen. Summer snowflakes spiral, Featherlike, Frost embraced clouds, Grey against black.

Short Stories by 8A & 8B

A Lesson in Humanity By Deanna Pistono “Almost done?” the burly man turned to the slight four-year old boy, clutching a stack of firewood under his arm, asking him the question. “Yeah!” Cole held up his glorious twig bundle as if carrying it had all the honor of carrying the Olympic torch. It was small and made up of scraggly twigs, but to the four-year old, who had never been out with his father to collect firewood before, it seemed to be a collection of enormous, weighty logs. Cole’s father chuckled “Wow, there’s a big collection!” Cole smiled back with his gap-toothed grin, flashing his large grey eyes at his dad in undisguised admiration. They trudged back to their house through the thick coating of white snow, Cole looking up at the large pines of the forest with a child’s naïve delight at seeing new things for the first time. His dad, looking at Cole, thought of his own childhood with a bittersweet taste on his tongue. After dumping their wet, snowy winter clothes and boots and throwing the logs and twigs into the fireplace, where they crackled out their dying words, Cole’s dad settled down to watch TV in his large armchair, while Cole wandered off unsupervised around the house. Cole’s dad flicked the switch and changed the channel when he saw the cajoling face of President Clavier smiling back at him with his set of yellow buck teeth. He’d never liked presidents or any kind of politician. They promised the moon, sky and stars, knowing full well they couldn’t deliver them. Instead, he flicked to a nature documentary about vultures. Cole strutted over a while later and stared blankly at the scavenging bird eating a carcass before asking “If another vulture was died, then would the other vultures eat him?” Cole’s father thought about the question for a minute then said “Aye. They probably would.” Then, seeing the horror-stricken look on Cole’s face, he added “But that’s because they’re animals. They live just to help themselves, as most animals do. And the difference between you and a vulture is that you care about others as well as yourself. People need to stay people, no matter how hard it is to keep caring for others. You do need to survive, yes, but don’t forget to give a think to others sometime.” 25

Cole nodded. He would remember those words for a long time, even if he no longer remembered who had spoken them. Ω “Not possible.” Cole’s dad was blocking the front porch, teeth bared like a wolf. It had been nine years since that walk in the forest, and the year was now 3024, a year that had begun with two soldiers at his doorstep. “Sir, your son was drafted at birth. It says so in the records, if you’d like to check.” a tall, bulky soldier replied gruffly “Now if you’d just let us pass and collect him, it’ll be better for all of us.” “Not for him.” Cole’s dad shouted, not afraid to voice his opinions “I know what you do to those unlucky kids! You take them and operate on them until they’re robots to use in combat!” “They’re bio-weapons. Bio-children, whose sacrifice does not go unnoticed” said the soldier’s companion, a stocky man with a fat mustache. “Your son is thirteen. He, like all other drafted-at-birth children, is to be taken to Fort James immediately. You knew this soon after he was born. Your behavior of moving out into the country and away from civilization is not uncommon for parents of future biochildren. But you have to let him go with us, for the good of The American Empire.” “There is no America anymore!” Cole’s dad roared. “America is dead! And you killed it!” The soldiers, who had exhausted their limited diplomacy, lifted their fingers at the large man blocking the door. Suddenly, bullets leapt from their fingertips at a simple command from their minds. The darts flew in formation, but quickly pierced Cole’s father’s flesh. He died within a few seconds. The two soldiers stared at each other. “I hate doing that.” the mustached soldier grimaced. “Well, what else can we do?” his bulky friend shrugged “This is who we were meant to be.” Then they went in to collect the unlucky boy who would soon be submitted to the same operation they’d undergone at age thirteen. Ω Cole had grown into a thoughtful boy, with solemn gray eyes and chestnut brown hair, who rarely ever lost his temper. Even if he did, he was known for keeping it under control. But the two soldiers forcing him into the van with the tinted windows had tried his patience. He’d screamed and kicked out at them, but after they’d pointed out his father’s body and their own talent with the small guns embedded under their skin, he’d learned to become compliant very quickly. Now, he was inside Fort James. The fort was large and made of steel, with an electric fence to stop the bio-children from escaping its grasp. It looked strong and formidable to Cole, who immediately gave up on ever making a plan to escape. He was strapped forcefully to a gurney and wheeled to a white room by nervous attendants. A doctor and an array of metal torture tools on a table, along with an operating bed, were the only things occupying the room. 26

The doctor was straight out of the horror films that Cole used to watch instead of doing his homework. His eyes seemed crazed for gore, his skin pasty and bloodless. His balding head was hidden under a shower cap, his mouth hidden by the mask, though Cole bet that he was smiling. His nameplate read out “Dr. Howard Medisa.” He unstrapped Cole from the gurney and transferred him onto the operating bed. “Ready to meet your destiny?” the man asked, giggling loudly at Cole’s serious face. Since Cole had nothing to say that would help him now, he held his tongue as he felt the gas spray in jets of coolness over his face. But even through his eyes fluttered closed, he could still hear his body being cut as Dr. Medisa choked out his chortling, guttural laugh. Ω Cole didn’t feel like a person anymore. The operation had been over a few hours ago, and he felt stiff with all the mechanical enhancements made to his body. Their added weight and stiffness made moving difficult. Straight after his operation, he’d been taken to the mess hall, which was unclean and manned by six thuggish lunch ladies who seemed to grunt non-stop. A lumpy-looking pile of sludge was dumped onto his plate, along with a cup of lukewarm water. Cole sat down at an empty table, clanking his way into a sitting position. “You get used to it,” a voice close to him blurted. Cole turned around to see that a girl with wavy red hair and an overly freckled face had sneaked up and sat beside him. She was tall and in shape, with a muscled, yet lanky frame. She wore the uniform that Cole had been given on arrival, camouflage pants and a long-sleeved camouflage shirt. Her eyes were on him, testing him in some way Cole couldn’t figure out. “Your new enhancements, I mean. They’re heavy but you do get used to them.” After saying those words, she suddenly shot out bullets from all her fingers, whirling around and around, hitting metal spoons and pans hanging on the greasy walls in a clanging chorus. Cole tried to command his fingers to shoot out bullets, and they did, small round bullets that flew across the mess hall with accuracy and speed, making burnt holes in the wall itself. He laughed and then tried to shoot at the filthy wooden lunch tables without hitting the other kids. Then he suddenly remembered. My dad was killed like this. He suddenly started to cry, and the girl backed away anxiously as a short, blonde man lumbered over. “Remembering your family?” the blonde man slurred, either drunk or drugged. Cole nodded, tears piling over and out of his eyes and turning into a miniature waterfall. The man dropped a tablet in Cole’s cup of water with a flourish. It dissolved straight on contact with the water, but the water looked unchanged afterward, still clear and lukewarm. “Drink up.” The man had a nametag with the words “Dr. Will Franklin” on it. He had lined, tired eyes, and his smile seemed forced by some drug. Maybe he was an addict to make himself happy? But a doctor would know the perverse effects of drugs. No, Cole thought, there’s something wrong with him…

Coming back to the present, Cole turned to the girl with a quizzical look for verification that the pill wasn’t poison. “It’s safe.” she nodded, red wavy hair swishing with the movement. Cole chugged back the water, realizing that it was fine. It didn’t even taste different from regular water. He wondered what the tablet did anyway. But after the water, he felt calmer, less wild with emotions and mellower. He turned to the girl. “Sorry about that. My name’s Cole Branson.” “I’m Perry.” She didn’t mention her last name, even though Cole had. They shook hands, feeling each other’s embedded gun points under their skin. Ω Cole soon found that he also had mechanical wings for flight, as well as greater endurance and strength. He trained every day for battle with Perry and the others, who all soon knew him as a good shot and the most tactical thinker in their war games. Perry was impetuous in the games. Her tactics were “Full out charge and take our chances,” complete with hollering. It only ever worked because Perry’s temper and inability to lose made her a worthy opponent. She went kamikaze in her desire to win or prove points, even threatening to use herself as a human shield. “That won’t help.” Cole explained on the soccer field they used as the battlefield, sweat dripping from his forehead. “You have to find their weak spots. That guy, for instance, never protects his back. And also……” “When on the real battlefield will we need strategy?” Perry asked defensively, cutting off his next words. “Maybe if you want to win,” Cole shrugged knowingly. “I’m afraid of the day when there’s someone stronger than you on the opposition, Perry.” “If my plan works out, that day will come sooner than you think,” Perry muttered. “What did you mean?” Cole pulled Perry aside during their water break. “Well, I’m tired of training to fight in wars just to build President Clavier’s American Empire. I mean, he’s been president by force. Anyone who doesn’t support him is killed, secretly, I just know.” “Have any proof?” Cole knew his father had loathed the President, but would a person stoop so low…. “No! Maybe I did before, but I don’t remember!” Perry’s eyes flared up, flashing into blue fireworks. “Can you remember your dad’s hair color? Or even your last name?” Cole scanned his brain quietly. What was Dad’s hair color? Blonde, no brown, had it been red? Cole smashed his head into his hands, trying to recall a last name, but where he had known it before; there was only a blank space. 28

“What’s wrong with me?” Cole stared fearfully up at Perry, looking to her for an answer. “They’ve drugged you. That tablet in your water, I think it was, but I can’t recall. I just know that they drug us gradually over time to forget our families and most of our past. The only thing we’re left with is the knowledge that we have parents at all.” “What!” Cole’s face grew angry as he grabbed Perry by her arms and shook her viciously, not afraid to use his weight to crush her a little in his rage. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s what the tablet was for?”He felt betrayed. Perry had been his only confidant and she’d forgotten to tell him this vital piece of information? Or had he been wrong in thinking that she was a worthy friend? “I don’t know for certain that’s what it was, I’m making a guess!” Perry screeched. “Now get off me, you jerk!” Cole’s anger faded with her honest response, but Perry could hold her temper for a long time and was about to sprint into the girl’s barracks to cool off when Cole called after her. “Perry, what’s your last name?” “I’ll never know, thanks to President Clavier and Fort James.” she said, before racing around the corner into the girl’s barracks. Ω There were two doctors in Fort James. They were of course, the infamous Dr. Medisa and his drugged pal Dr. Franklin. Both were objects of fascination for Cole, who thought they were gathering information. “Course they are, dolt-head.” Perry shook her head “They want to weed out the best soldiers. They pass the info to the Prez and that’s that. “ But they still interested him. A doctor would know that he was being drugged by others, so why drug himself, as Cole suspected Dr. Franklin was doing? And Medisa’s antics with the surgery told of a brilliant mind, albeit wrongly used. Cole found himself stalking them in corridors of the Fort and keeping them under surveillance 24/7. One day, he watched Dr. Franklin sobbing on Dr. Medisa’s shirt out of the corner of his eye as he played a war game in training. Since he could now focus on both the game and the sobbing professional, he let one eye and ear train on the two doctors and the others on the game itself. “I don’t want to keep drugging myself.” Dr. Franklin came out with what Cole had figured to be true. “I can’t help wanting to help those kids. I used to act as a father to some of them you know, to help them get over the loss of their real families without drugging them…” “Yes, and the president suggested you be drugged to ensure that you don’t let your humanity and goodwill get in the way of his American Empire progressing.” Medisa’s voice was matter-of-fact, calm as he spoke of the harsh reality. “He thought you wanted the kids to escape and spread rebellion against making bio-children. He thought you were too sympathetic to their fate.” “Maybe a little, but…” Franklin trailed off, staring at the emerald green Astroturf beneath his feet with a sorrowful expression.

“I could drug you secretly if you’re not strong enough to take the pill each morning.” Dr. Medisa offered in a kind voice - one that Cole had almost thought Dr. Medisa wasn’t capable of producing. “No, Howard. You’ll be too lenient on my doses and then the president himself will send someone to do it forcefully.” Dr. Franklin shuddered. “I better take my pill now in case I’m under surveillance. I’m convinced there are cameras here, recording us and all the kids.” Dr. Medisa stepped back, but before the pill could enter Dr. Franklin’s mouth, he said “I don’t like myself for taking on the surgeon job. I wreck kid’s lives just so I can get some cash. But like you drugging yourself, I keep doing it to survive - to avoid getting killed by President Clavier. I hurt people to save my own wretched self. I’m even worse than you, drugging yourself to stop your humanity getting in the way of progress. I wasn’t forced into doing this. You were.” “You’re not worse by much.” Doctor Franklin swallowed the pill gently, resigning himself to fate. Cole looked away from them, feeling the sadness and self-hatred of Dr. Medisa and Dr. Franklin’s allconsuming fear hard in his gut. He went back to concentrating on the war game, the conversation reminding him of another that he himself had once had, but forgotten. Ω One day at lunch break, the President visited. Cole’s first impression was that he was too short and had a voice too squeaky to be much of a leader of a country. He was accompanied by tall men in black suits, all of whom blended into what Perry snidely called “The President’s Black Wall.” As all the bio-children lined up for inspection by the Honorable President, Perry chattered to Cole about how much she hated the Prez, as she called him. “He forces people to randomly give up their own children to fight in his war for territory!” she whispered and fumed “He turns us into his pawns and our lives are lost for a man who doomed us to war and blood! Any opposition is crushed, and he still expects to be revered by all of us!” She stomped her foot, as petulant as a child. “That’s not the life we want or deserve!” The president walked up toward the two of them and heard the last few sentences Perry had spoken. He didn’t speak, but instead let his fists talk in bursts of jutting fury. Perry was thrown backward, having nothing on the President’s large weight advantage. “That’s enough!” Cole was surprised that his mouth seemed to have started moving in a rebellious contradiction of his brain, which had commanded silence. The president turned to look at him with a glare of annoyance, eyes scrunched up and mouth crooked in a grimace. “She’s insane.” Cole ad-libbed on the spot. “Totally mental. She’ll go rabid about random things. So don’t try to make her madder. She’ll bite you.” Perry growled at him in anger, which just made his false cover story more believable. Still, the President beckoned the two of them into a room, telling the doctors that he wanted a chat with the two biochildren.

The single chair in the room was prepared for the President’s honorable beefy tush, while Cole and Perry stood in front of him in military formation. The president spoke in his high, reedy voice “Well, well. Two little rebels. You’re all adolescents in there, bound to be a couple deviants in the mixing pot. I’m not surprised.” Perry was about to speak, but Cole squeezed her hand with all the force he could use without causing her injury, sending her a message to shut her trap. The president went on “So, I’ll tell you two what nobody else knows. During the operation, Dr. Medisa has orders from me to put explosives in proximity to each bio-child’s heart. He then controls the switch for each of you. I also have cameras implanted in each uniform that you wear, taping your actions and monitoring you. If you do anything too rebellious, then Dr. Medisa will have my orders to blow you skyhigh. This is your first and only warning. And don’t think I’ll be lenient. I’ve taken too many risks to let my American Empire be threatened and I won’t bat an eyelash about killing off two bio-children so that my Empire can flourish.” “So, as long as the Empire flourishes, Honorable President, then our lives are of no worth?” Perry’ s voice was hard and steel-cold. “Yes, correct.” The president didn’t hesitate. “Now go, you two, and take heed of my words.” Ω After that, Perry was full of ideas on how to bring down the Prez. And since no one else would listen, Cole was her sole audience. “We could sneak into the White House and shoot him!” “We’d have to get out of Fort James first, and how do you propose we do that?” Cole sighed wearily. “It’s not sensible, all this plotting to kill the Prez. He probably has someone loyal to him who’ll just take over. You’re wasting time Perry.” “At least I’m trying to bring back the old America!” Perry snarled. “You on the other hand, don’t seem to be doing much at all! Don’t you care anything for your fellow man?” “I do care actually. About how they’ll be affected by the wrath of him or his subordinate. He’ll burn America and drench it in blood if we attempt to kill him.” Cole smiled dryly. “I care, Perry. I’m just protecting other people with my refusal to help you.” “And I suppose I’m just a childish girl who’s delusional about what’s right for the human race?” Perry screeched at Cole. “I’m not going to be belittled by you, Cole! Not when I’m right and you’re wrong!” Cole calmly replied “Perry, you aren’t thinking this through. Sleep on it. Don’t do anything rash. I can’t always pull you out of your own ditch.” “There you go again, belittling me!” Perry fumed “Well, goodbye Cole. I’m going off to shoot the Prez. Have an awful life in case I don’t succeed.” She made it down the hall before a piercing shriek cut through the night air. Dr. Franklin raced out of his room, tracing the sound of the scream like a hound on the trail. 31

“What’s going on?” Dr. Franklin shouted, the effects of his drug long gone. He ran to the source of the sound, feet clomping down the marble hall. What met his eyes was gruesome. Body pieces of raw flesh and bits of exploded wire and metal lay strewn in a bloody pool on the floor. Cole stood next to the pool, eyes watery but rigid. He nodded to the doctor in greeting. “This was Perry.” he said, before rushing out of the hallway so that Dr. Franklin wouldn’t see his tears. Ω “This is the first time all of you are going into combat, so please be careful. We need as many soldiers as possible to fight in our Honorable President’s Imperial American Army.” Cole and the others all listened as Dr. Medisa rattled on about how important the Empire was, and how important conquest was. Only Cole knew that he was secretly berating himself for his own weak obedience to the President, driven solely by his need to survive. None of them were given weapons. All their enhancements made them formidable, and the war games had trained them properly. They were all prepped for combat, bodies muscled and taut. The only thing Dr. Medisa had to do was sharpen their teeth into fangs, so that they could puncture skin. Some made half-hearted vampire jokes, but no one laughed. The day had come. They were going into battle. Cole’s teeth were aching, but his jaw was straight and firm. He stood with everyone else on the front lines of the Imperial American Army. “Where are we?” he asked a hardened old soldier, a bio-child aged into an adult. “South America, Peru actually. The Honorable President wants the land.” “Figures,” Cole spat. The battle erupted when the other army fired the first bullet at another bio-child. But her skin, like all the others’ skin, was bullet-proof. She merely retaliated with her finger and down the man fell, eyes raised upward in a silent prayer. It was as though everyone had suddenly decided to go insane. The bio-children turned ruthless, killing without a glance, stepping over their own dead, and even placing bets on how many people they could kill. Cole himself was trying hard to not be part of the madness, but his brain was screeching on about how if he killed more enemy soldiers he’d have a better chance of staying alive. So he killed without consideration, and silently wondered when it would all be over. Perry’s voice exploded in his mind, harsh and loud, as if she were still alive “It will never be over, idiot! You’ll live this way for the rest of your life until you die!” Cole chose to ignore the voice in his head and focus on the present. He swung out his forearm and shot a soldier, watching the blood spill with perverse satisfaction. One less opponent. The shouts and screams were loud and seemed to pump Cole’s adrenaline. He became faster and swooped down on the enemy, like the vultures swooping in on a fresh carcass in the documentary that he’d already forgotten watching those many years ago. 32

Cole killed and shot in a perfect straight line, not needing defensive measures when his bullet-proof skin was so strong and tough. It was at least as strong as rhino hide, or so Dr. Medisa had said. It couldn’t be broken unless the opponent kept shooting, and Cole wasn’t about to let that happen. He would make it out alive. Even if it meant killing innocent people who were just defending their homes. Images flashed in Cole’s mind as a drugged memory sluggishly climbed into focus. A vulture diving down toward a dead hunk of animal. A young boy’s question. And a man’s response. “If another vulture was died, then would the other vultures eat him?” “Aye. They probably would. But that’s because they’re animals. They live just to help themselves, most animals do. And the difference between you and a vulture is that you care about others as well as yourself. People need to stay people, no matter how hard it is to keep caring for others aside from you. You do need to survive, yes, but don’t forget to give a think to others sometime.” Cole no longer recognized his or his father’s voice, but the meaning of the words rang true in his skull. People were only people because they cared about others. If they didn’t or pretended not to, they were no better than the vultures. While he was lost in thought, a soldier shot at him, the bullet barely making a mark on Cole’s skin as it bounced off, rebounding off into the distance. Cole turned to the soldier, who stood there, unshaken but grimly realizing that he’d run out of ammo. The soldier turned to Cole with a snarky grin and knelt down in front of him, hands raised upward. “Ok, then, kid. Shoot me. Let’s make this quick.” Cole was prepared to send the command down his nerves to his fingertips when he stopped, his brain suddenly engaged with his body in a bizarre mental tug of war. And then, Cole spoke, forgetting all the disaster and carnage around him. “I’m not an animal. I do have some humanity left, even if the President would prefer that I didn’t. If I was an animal, he could threaten me and I would just go along with it to stay alive. He wants an empire, and he’s prepared to sacrifice our humanity for it. He wants us as animals, trained fighting dogs for him. And I don’t even agree with him. We’re killing others when we have no reason to fight. We’re all animals, don’t you see? We’re fighting like we don’t care about the lives we wreck. And if we keep existing like this, compromising our humanity, then our species will go extinct faster than any scientist can predict.” The other soldier stood, silently thinking about what Cole was saying, before replying “You know, don’t waste time. Just give me a shot. Those speeches won’t save your skin. I’m not the only one in my army, you know. They’ll come after you.” “Actually, I’m probably dead now anyway. Don’t bother calling your friends to help you.” Cole smiled knowingly; raising his own hands into the air “I’ve said and done things I shouldn’t have to an enemy. And now it’s time for retaliation from higher up.” And the other soldier stood, hands clutching his mouth in a silent scream, as Cole’s body, but not the humanity he’d fought to keep, burst apart in ashes, flame, and blood.

Voices Finally Heard by Brian Chung “Come on, stop being a little girl, and let‟s get on the plane before it leaves!” Mahmud e Raq whispered impatiently with a very strong Middle Eastern accent. “But brother, do you think it is right to do this?” I asked. “Be quiet, what if people hear us!” My brother whispered with a frown of his face. He shook his head and rushed on the plane. “Ding” goes the intercom “This is your captain speaking, we are going to be taking off soon, so please fasten your seat belt, sit back, and enjoy your flight.” It was starting to get tense; I felt so hot, sweat poured out of my skin. I turned over to my brother, Mahmud e Raq and asked “When are we going to strike brother?” He replied “Soon my brother, soon our voices will be heard.” We didn‟t want to do this, but we did it to grab the attention so that the world would hear us, the whole world. We are going to hijack the plane and crash it at the World Trade Center in New York. I could tell he was nervous too because his whole body was shaking and it looked like he had just came out of the swimming pool. I looked around, there were kids, teachers, old people and parents, I started to question myself if hijacking a plane and crashing it in a building is the best way to be heard. But suddenly the plane started taking off, before we knew it, it was already time for lunch. It was time to strike time to do what we have to. My brother got up and told me to tell him when the captain came out of the cockpit. But it wasn‟t long until he came out, the door opened! So I yelled “Brother, he came out!” I ran over to hold the door to make sure the door didn‟t close. My brother ran in to the cockpit and chocked the co-pilot; I jumped in and locked the door and ran as fast as I can and jumped into the captain‟s seat. Both my brother and I looked at each other and just laughed, but our laughter stopped when the captain came out of the bath room and knocked on the door, he said “Hey Johnny, open the door!” My brother replied “No, I am busy.” The captain got suspicious, because my brother had a very strong accent. By now the people already know that something wasn‟t right. So my brother picked up the intercom and said “We have a little change in plans, we are now heading to New York, and we are not going to be landing.” The people were now we banging on the door, but it‟s too late for them already because we already see The World Trade Center, my brother had huge grin on his face, he leaded backwards with his hands in the air, he gave on last sigh, a sigh of relief, he was proud of me and I am proud of myself. We did what we had to, not what we wanted to. Three, two, one at the moment of impact our voices have been heard.

Why Me? by Chloe Rouillon Today, 1st of May, 2017, I am sitting, for the 1,000,000th time in a chair, in a far, far, dark small office, with a paper on a desk in front of me, not doing anything. I was walking in my room tired from the hard day I just had and turned on my laptop. The password page turned on. Before I could even touch the keys they sunk into my laptop and wrote the password by itself. I had no idea what just happened. My friend started a short conversation with me; Claudia: “So what’s up?’ Me: “If I were to tell you, you would not believe me.” Claudia: “What? Tell me I want to know!” Me: “My password typed himself up; I didn’t do anything, I just…. I don’t know “ Claudia: “Are you kidding, that’s crazy” Me: “I know, sorry but I got to go, I’ll talked to you tomorrow” Claudia: “Ok see you!’ Until that time and dinner, I kept on seeing what my problem was, and how my password typed itself. I would go back to the password page, and see if anything was happening……nothing. I would put my finger just on top of the key to see if it would type. Still nothing. I desperately put my arms and my head on the table, when a water bottle almost fell from my desk. But the second I looked at it, my bottle was floating in the air, spinning back and forth towards me. I was looking at it, until I looked up hearing my mom shouting “Dinner time!” and my bottle falling, spinning, spinning. I had no idea what was the relationship with my eyes and the bottle in the air. I ate my dinner as fast as I could, and went back up to my room. I concentrated and tried to make my bottle float in the air again, but I couldn’t. It’s like I was doing it automatically or unconsciously. The next morning I jumped off my bed, exitied to be at school with my best friend Claudia. Arrived at school: Claudia: “So… what happened last night? Did you tell about it to your parents? Your little brother? Did it happen again? What are you going to do? Can I do it, too?” Me: “The keys of my laptop types my password by themselves. It happened again with my water bottle. I didn’t tell my parents or my brother about it.” Claudia: “Wait. It happened again with your water bottle?” Me: “Yea, but this time it was different. When my water bottle fell down, I looked at it quickly and it was spinning in the air. When my mom called me to go to dinne, I looked away and the bottle fell.” Claudia: “WOW that’s so cool; would you show it to me?” Me: “I don’t know, I don’t know how I did it. Don’t tell this to anyone. Promise?” “Promise”, Claudia responded. The school bell rang and all the students went to the classroom door in a straight line. The teacher opened the door. He was tall with dark black pants, black shoes, black socks, black shirt, black hair, and even his glasses were black. They were so black that I couldn’t see his eyes. He wasn’t smiling at all. His mouth was straight as a ruler. We all entered the classroom in complete silence; we could decide where we wanted to sit, so I sat down next to Claudia. The teacher started the class and said in a big, hard stone voice: “Hello, my name is Mr. Murdstone I am the sub for your teacher who fell down the stairs.” We all responded in a boring voice; “Hello Mr.Murdstone.” 35

I whispered to Claudia: “There is no way we can have fun with this teacher.” She replied to me: “Yeah, you’re right, we better do something, otherwise we’ll be dead as mice in a ten cat house.” “SILENCE” he shouted and punches the desk hard enough to break it. He put his arm up, and pointed his finger at me: “You” “M…E…,” I responded “Yes you. Am I pointing at someone else? Stand-up” I stood up looking really uncomfortable but in reality, I was sweating outside, and shaking inside. Everyone including him was looking at me. He was looking at me like I did something wrong. It was freaky. “What’s your name?” He said in a soft voice, but loud enough for me to hear. “My name is Kyra” I responded like a normal person. When I sat down, my hands were shaking, and I had a really weird feeling in all my body. “What’s wrong?” Claudia whispered to me while the teacher was not looking. “I don’t know, I got a weird feeling when I looked at him in the eyes, a really strong feeling.” My head was moving back and forth, I was getting really tired, and my eyes started to close themselves. I was walking in the school; everyone was looking at me, every child, every second. I felt scared for the first time of my life, they all had there arms crossed, or next to their legs, and were staring at me like I was going to escape from prison. They all started to turn around me, shouting my name, until I woke up. Claudia, was calling, and shaking me to wake up. She helped me stand up, and sit on my chair. We continued the class for not long and went to recess before lunch. When we were outside, Claudia took me away from the others and said to me, “So what happened…?” “I don’t know, I felt…..I seriously don’t know…” “Is it because of that thing…..Your ‘power’ of some kind.” “Maybe…” I touched my pocket, and found out that I didn’t have my card to go eat. “Oops, I got to go back to the class; I forgot my card in my bag. Go ahead. I’ll see you there”. “Are you crazy, you are not allowed to get there?” I responded with a smile “yes” I ran to the classroom and silently put one foot in front of the other as I tip-toed into the room. When I looked at the desk I could see a folder, where papers were coming out with a card on top of it. The picture of Mr.Murdstone and his name was on it, but the strange thing was that there was written ‘FBI’ with a number on it. On the papers there was a picture of me, they didn’t know anything about me, except for my age, and my address. My whole body shook, but I still continued. The wooden floor creaked at each little footstep that I made. I finally reach my bag, and got my card, while teachers were talking to each other in the hallway. The footstep became harder and harder, the voices became louder and louder. The space that I needed to hide became harder and harder to find. My heart-beat became stronger and stronger, faster and faster. I could see the shadow approaching the entrance of the classroom. The teachers came, crossed the door, and didn’t even pay attention to me. “OUFF!” I said in a happy voice. But that Ouff wasn’t for long, when I saw a long shadow coming as slow as a turtle, but that shadow was already more than half of the body. I stood up when a voice came along and said “What are you doing here, you are supposed to be at lunch!” From this voice, I could tell it was Mr.Murdstone. I moved as fast as I could and went to the back of the class, not too far in case I had to go back. I was totally confident, even though my heartbeat was going as fast as it could possibly go. could not think of anything, except for questions that were running in my head going crazy. What is he going to do with me? Why was he in the FBI, why in the school? “So what do you think of your folder? Pretty cool huh.” 36

“What I think? I think you should clean up your desk.” I responded in a smart voice. “Ok… well let’s talk about something else.” “Yeah… why not… like… What are going to do with me? What do you want from me?” I responded in a mean voice. “Nothing, we just want you to follow us…” “What if I won’t?” “Then I will not have another choice but to force you” He started running towards me, but I avoided him at the last second, and ran to the front of the class. He took his phone and made a call to someone, I didn’t know who or what. He tried to take me by surprise, but I still avoided him. He tried again and again, but the last time, it was really short, he could have caught me, so I made a really important decision. Even if it was not safe for me, I still did it. I used my power. I took anything that was going through my eyes, pens, pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners, pencil cases, bags, jacket, markers, magnet, water bottles, baskets, books, notebook, textbook, glasses scissors were all flying around the classroom. I was getting tired, but I tried to resist. He was still attacking me, and I avoided him for the last time, but I was getting really tired and started to become unconscious. The rest of the FBI’s team, the police, and an ambulance came. When they got to the room, I was lying on the ground from my overused power. Mr. Murdstone took me in his arms and put me in the ambulance, and took me to the clinic. The next morning when I woke up, my parents and my little brother were in the room with Mr. Murdstone and Claudia. They all left the room, except for Mr.Murdstone. “So, what are you going to do with me now?” I asked in a sick voice, my eyes tearing “We are going to bring you to a specific center when you will be fully recovered, make you pass some tests, and perhaps make you go back to school. You are too weak to use your power right now, so you are going to need a lot of practice if you want to use it. We know a good doctor who will help you and teach you how to use your power correctly.” “Ok, thank you Mr. Murdstone”, I responded. One teardrop fell and slowly rolled down my cheeks, while I was looking at the sun shining through the window. 3 weeks later: Here I am, in a far far, small dark office, with a paper and a pen, writing the story of the first girl who had unusual powers in the real world. I passed all the tests and saw the doctor Mr.Murdstone told me about. He taught me how to use my power for good, and also how to use it so that I don’t get tired, like in the school, and trust me I’ve got a lot of work to do. I went back to school. The first day, they were all looking at me like they were afraid, they were all gossiping and whispering. After some long days, it went a bit better, and my classmates started to accept me the way I am. Ho! And one last thing, after all Mr. Murdstone is not that mean and we all persuaded him to stay our teacher for the rest of the year.

Love or Family by anonymous The bright sun burns up the hot sand on the west beach, as if we are chewing a soft, smashed potato that covers with ashes, whitish color with some yellow skins remaining. The warm comfortable air created by the morning sun rushes through the land one road by another until it reaches Huston Rd. south. This is where the Westinbergs lived and worked for generations. From the first to current, I am the third offspring and the fifth generation of my family. My family 37

lived here as peasants‟ century after century and farm boys after farm boys. We lived in the same white house on the street, the biggest house on the street, with four rooms and one sitting room. Starting from my great-great grandpa Roof, my entire family member had lived in this house, and my grandpa was the most recognized and the most respected one in the town, he actually went to a University to study. He loved adventures and traveling, he told me stories when he was young, and he said he met dragons and giants. I didn‟t believe him at first, but his stories and some little creatures had made me trust him slowly after more and more stories and creatures he kept from his adventures. So then on, every single night he will come over to my room and tell me old fables so I can sleep with a smile on my face. When times goes long and today, I am already fourteen years old, the important day of my life had come. And this day, was believed to be the best day of a teenager‟s life, a traditional festival for teenagers to pick their grown up present. I was the first to arrive, and so did the bad luck arrive first…and so did the story begin… As I woke by the birds singing happily on the trees, I suddenly realize there was no sound around me, or my house! Not like usual when my brother Ben crepes on my bed and screams in my ear, either did my father‟s harvesting truck make a sound?! As I brushed my teeth and stepped in front of my calendar hanging against the wall just to make sure there is no going to be any special events, but as I thought before I reach the calendar “um…is it my birthday，it might be… no, it must be if there is no sound at home. They probably wanted to give me a surprise when I go down to kitchen, yes, oh brilliant I am…” I thought in my head as I slowly step by hoping for a surprise. When I approach the calendar, on it it reads “1375. 2. 13 Pantaian time”, I froze still and rubbed my eyes gently using my bright brown eyes I looked again at the calendar, it still reads “1375. 2. 13 Pataian” “This was the a dozen day for young boys to pick their wives at the village center!?” I whispered to myself. That‟s why! My parents might go to cheer for my brothers and my brother ditched me. “Very good relationships” I smiled while thinking. When I was done brushing my teeth, I quickly hurried down stairs to get my breakfast, but it was empty!? “but, but, mom always left me breakfast on the kitchen table whenever she had some business outside!” I scan around the old Bowerstone table left by my grandpa‟s grandpa, it already been used for years… no, actually for centuries to be more like it… yes, centuries. I just don‟t get why my family won‟t change it!?” as my thoughts randomly rushes through my brain. Um… no parents‟ home and it‟s my world hen, I thought. So on, I didn‟t receive any pocket money ever since I was 2. Why is this happening, it‟s not fair, is it? Look, when I was 4, when other kids use their pocket money to buy those squareish harbor chocolate bars and eating on a branch in front of me while I have to play with my stupid cousin who only knows how to say candy!! Yes, candy!! He eats candy in front of me, then I have to ask my uncle try to convince me parent to give me some pocket money, because I am sick of watching other people eating these precious. Cause, using my dad‟s favorite-long-wise what mom called, speeches… “Candy is no good to your body and your teeth, and we are saving your money for your future” and my brothers laughed at me because they even get pocket moneys…” well, I‟m just the unlucky kid of the family. So now is the chance to find out why they aren‟t giving money, just in case I might miss the event, I stared at the clock tower before I sneak into my parents‟ room to check out. In my mother‟s dairy, it wrote “father is getting worse and worse with his lungs; the doctors say he will need 500 panish for his medicine and… “Then I suddenly heard a sound from the door, it was grandpa. He looks very healthy but why did the mother‟s dairy say he was ill. I didn‟t want mother to know I peeked her diary so I said nothing to grandpa nor asked any questions about. 38

Grandpa looked wise and kind, he came in to the kitchen and start searching for me, I pretended I was asleep and soon grandpa find me in mother‟s room. He spoke softly, if you are asleep, sleep good and have a sweet dream which brings you good luck… grandpa was always to kind and wise, I never seem him get mad before. So on the kids around also liked him and got him a nick name, “puppy wizard” describing his puppy white air, and for now, he goes good with them and told them stories about the old days. When grandpa left my room，he said gently, “if you are hungry, I prepared some yellow Swedish butter with some bread” . I smiled as he left the house to exercise, what he usually do, then I had quickly forgot about the competition and about the diary… when it was 6p.m Pantaian time, mom with my brothers and father came back, smiling and slowly approaches the kitchen where I am eating. I barely heard there conversation, “grandpa‟s died… money… we can live happily now.” when I hear this, I believed the diary was true.

Going On a Diet by Cindy Park Well, my friends always say the same thing to me. “You don’t need a diet! You are skinny enough” Well, how fat am I? I have lots of fat on my legs and my stomach. But still I can cover it with clothes. Then, why do I need a diet? This is just not enough for me. When I look into the mirror, I tell myself. ‘You are okay! You are not that fat anyways! And look! The clothes are covering all your fat! What’s the problem?’ But when Lynda stands beside me, I curse myself. Lynda is a pretty girl, of course. Not only her face, also her body is so pretty. Even a plain t-shirt can shine on her. But when I look at me beside her, I feel me fading. ‘Look at your legs! Are those elephant legs? Look how it’s different even if you wear the same school uniform!’ And that’s not only me thinking that way! I can hear boys whispering to themselves, “She looks extremely fat today.” I know.. So mean! But… that’s the truth! So I decided to go on a diet! This time I won’t give up that so fast! I gave my family a note. ‘I am on diet from now on!’ 39

Everybody laughs and makes fun about it! But I’m going to do this! I searched the internet and found a great one that fits me! A YOGURT DIET! I just need to eat nothing but yogurt and I love yogurt! I’m so going to make this happen! And the first morning came! This morning, I drank only a cup of yogurt! You know that’s a shining improvement for me! Because I eat a lot in the mornings! And lunch, and… dinner… Anyways! And for the first 2 periods, I was feeling okay. But! When it became to the 3rd period, I was feeling horrible. My eyes were flicking around. First, I looked at the teacher and the clock, teacher, clock. The time went bysooooooo slowly! I chilled out a lot and my head seemed to be held by somebody for a long time. I became dizzy and dizzy. “Number 9, read the line 2. Number 9! Who’s number 9!” “Hey! The teacher’s calling you!” My partner whispered to me. “Ye.. yes!!” I stood up as quickly as I could! “Did you sleep?” “No..mam..” “Yes you did! You sleepy cat!” The whole class laughed at me. It was surely embarrassing. I quickly apologized to the teacher and sat down. And started to count the seconds in my mind. ‘1..2..3..4..’ And when I looked at the clock when I felt 1 minute passed, it was 20 seconds that passed! Slowly I closed my eyes but quickly opened them again! I felt that I would never open my eyes if I close them again. So I stared at the teacher. But I couldn’t focus. And suddenly a funny feeling was going up from my stomach to my throat. It was like somebody was holding it and squishing it. And at that moment the bell rang dramatically. But sad news… It was only 3rd period that passed. And I need to get through another class till lunch! And I saw a black film passing by… When I opened my eyes, my friends were looking at me with a worrying sight. I think I fell down. My head hurt. “You wanna go see the nurse?”, one of my friends asks. “Yes.. I should..” When I saw the nurse, she asked me. 40

“What did you eat for breakfast?” “A… cup of yogurt..” “Really, only that? Well not a surprise that you fell.” “But I was going on a yogurt diet.” “Look girl. You are just a middle schooer. You should eat and grow up! Try this…” She gave me a list of food that might help my diet. And she also taught me some exercises that I can do too. And I got a chance to take more care of my body. If I keep on track like this… Couldn’t I catch up to Lynda one day?

Pay Back by Andy Woo

“Someone shoot that alarm clock!!!!” I cried out, nearly in tears. Dang, another day begins. I moan as I dig into the corner of my bed trying to ignore the monstrous alarm ringing. “Sara! Wa…” My words are interrupted by a massive blow of my sister’s foot. Blackened out, I lay halfdead as the 27 years old beast drags my across the living room floor. “Get up,” my sister, a former-killer like me, ordered.

“SLOOOOOOOOOOW DOWN!!!” I screamed with a black eye barely hanging onto Sara’s waist as she started accelerating faster and faster on her motorcycle. Just before I was about to scream at her again, the sharp brake sounds pierced my ears, than I was on the floor. I could swear to God (well, I don’t believe in God but) that there were at least a hundred people that laughed at me. ‘Stupid, Sara!!!’ I thought. With my face burning in shame, I dived into the movie theater.

I think Sara said that she was sorry about like a hundred times now after the movie. “Christy~~~~!! I’m sorry!!” She wined like a five years old kid. “Chris…” A sharp gun sound penetrated through Sara’s voice. She raised her head slowly, looked around. The gun sound rattled again as people screamed with terror. Sara gave me the ‘be quiet’ signal and took a peak again at the origin of the sound. It seemed like the sound was coming from a shopping mall across the street. She made me sit and told me to keep quiet. Another burst of gun sound echoed through my ears. “He’s close,” Sara whispered in my ears. Right after her word, a masked man showed up in front of her, with his gun aimed at my sister. With a swift kick, there was a 41

cracking sound in the man’s shins. Sara gave another blow in stomach, and with a painful moaning sound, the man was on the ground, dead. Sara picked up his gun, turned to me. “Stay here until I come back,” Even before I could answer her, she was gone.

‘Sara!!!’ I called out in my heart. I froze. ‘It’s too dangerous,’ I told myself. ‘But my sister! She’s in there!’ I tried to convince myself. As I fought with myself, time passed by. Sirens! I heard sirens. ‘Is it the police?’ I was happy to see them for the first time in my life. I called them the with my burning throat. “My sister! She went in! She’s still in there! Please! Get her out!” I stormed them with my words. They shook their head. “Sorry ma’am, it’s too late. We can’t go in now. We’ll have to wait.” One officer answered. ‘What? You can’t?’ I burned with furiousness. I grabbed his throat. “SAVE HER!!!” I ordered. The officers grabbed my and pinned me on the ground. “LET G…” my words evaporated in a roaring explosion that blew me and the officers to the ground. “No,” I muttered as I rose up. The shopping mall was devoured by the devastating blazes. My sister was devoured by the flames.

It has been 4 weeks since my sister, Sara died in a shopping mall terror trying to save the hostages. ‘Stupid, Sara’ I muttered in my breath as I woke up from an excruciating nightmare. ‘Why did I just stay there…? It’s all my fault. . . . . Is it? Is it my fault?’ I asked myself millions of question everyday. I felt like throwing up every time I thought how painful it would have been for Sara in the flames. I dreamed dying in the flames every night. My feet melted down as my hair caught on fire. I slowly died as I screamed for help and only the roaring fire answered. I couldn’t take it anymore. ‘I’ll pay back,’ I promised my sister.

My heart fought to break my ribs as I stood in front of my sister’s room. This was the first time I was going in her room after her death. I took a huge breath as I opened the door. The door moaned with a screeching sound as I went in her room. There was a locked wooden cabinet in the middle of the room. I picked it open with ease with a pin sitting on her table. Guns, knives, chains. ‘Everything I need to kill,’ I thought with a sneer. It was easy to track the terrorist’s hideout since I had the phone that belonged to the man my sister killed. I headed off to the hideout.

‘Loose security,’ The gate was flung open with the guards playing poker next to the gate. I walked toward them with confidence. “Hey, lady!” the guards called me with a bad pronunciation. I walked towards them acting as if I was scared. One of the guards put his hands 42

on my shoulders. With a fast movement, I twisted his arm, knocked him on the ground by stabbing him on the stomach and smashed my high heels on his spines as his bones snapped into pieces. With a moan, he fell and never got back up. The other guard, terrified with the violent scene, grabbed his gun. Too slow. He picked the gun up after my .50 caliber round went straight through his head and out the other side.

I went straight into the hideout after demolishing the guards at the gate. Every time someone looked at me with a suspicious look, my killing tools answered. I sliced through them, stabbed them, shot them and twisted their limbs. An alarmed voice talked in speakers installed on the ceiling in some kind of a foreign language. ‘Have they realized?’ I became alarmed. All my senses woke up. I heard footsteps incoming. I prayed to God (although I don’t believe in God), pulled my knife and my pistol out and raced towards the terrorists. On full alarm, the guns opened fire at me. Without getting any hits, I hid in a room that was the closest to me. Electricity switch! I destroyed the switch by giving it a gentle blow with my foot. In the pitch dark hallway, I could taste the fear in the terrorists. I silently walked, like a leopard getting ready to jump on its prey. I drew my knife out as I became a meter close to them. I ran my knife through one of their necks in the pitch dark hallway. I could feel the blood pour out the open veins. The man fell quietly, without a scream. The walls became dripping wet with the blood as the other’s screamed in terror. I crouched down, stabbed the terrorists on their feet viciously. They screamed as their leg gave out and they fell onto the ground. I tied their hands together, pulled out a pistol. ‘Wait,’ I thought as I looked at the elevator. “I’ll need some help,” I said as I put my pistol away.

“Someone is coming up!” a masked man cried as the numbers on the elevator started to change. The terrorists all aimed their rifles at the elevator. Ting! The elevator rang. As the door opened, the bursting roars of the rifles covered up the view. As the gun bursts calmed, the elevator reviled their own man tied up to the ceiling of the elevator. “What… What happened?” the terrorist’s question was answered by a grenade blow. As the disembodied limbs and organs dripped from the wall, I walked in through the stairs. I entered straight through a room that seemed like the leader’s room. Inside the room full of valuable pictures and jewelry waited a man with a long grey beard shivering on the ground. “What you want I give you!!!” the man cried out as he crawled away from me, into the corner of the room. “I want…Your life,” I said as I grasped his leg and threw him onto the floor. He pulled out a pistol from his pocket. “I shoot! I shoot!” he cried. He burst into tears as I stepped on his thigh with my heels. I twisted his arm so that his pistol was aiming at his own head. “Sara, you watching?” I muttered as a gunshot filled the bloody room. I threw his body onto the floor, and left the room with a grin.

“I’m sorry ma’am, there is nothing I can do,” the doctor said to Sara as he left the room. It’s been 2 weeks since the terror that nearly killed Sara, who escaped with the hostage right before the bomb ignited. Christy has been coma for 2 weeks now. Christy lay in the bed as she kept on muttering... “Stupid Sara…”

The Last Four by Renata Serio Day 1 7:01 Carters Room Carter woke up to the sound of construction. Yeah that’s right, her friends back in Maine got to wake up to birds and she woke up to construction. Great way to start my first day at school It was not only the first day of school for Carter it was the first day of a NEW school in a NEW country. Yup Carter’s evil-stepmother (no joke) made them move to frigging HK!! Not only did they move away from her hometown, and friends, but she had to leave Rex behind. Rex was her faithful Old English sheep dog, who has been there for her since the day of her mother's funeral. Carter could still see it… It was a cold rainy day. Carter reasoned that not a soul could smile on such a day, a day where her greatest role model, the one she could always count on to keep her safe, was gone. Not gone exactly but taken, taken from her and her home and family. Carter was too sad to cry, too depressed to talk, too mad to care. So she went outside to the porch, that’s when she saw him. He was crouched behind a bush cowering from the lighting and pouring rain, his already wet fur getting soaked. Carter who was sitting on the front porch steps of her big, Victorian house heard his cries and automatically followed them, being the kind hearted animal lover she was. She found him under the rose bush, mom’s rose bush the one she had planted the year Carter was born. Carter picked him up, for even though she was only five,

Rex was just about 5 lbs. of fur and brought him in. Of course she and her Dad tried to find the owner, but there was none. After two months of looking, Rex was officially hers. The wicked witch of the west insisted that he was “too big” and “too much trouble to bring with them”, her lovesick, brainwashed guardian (she refused to call him her father since the day he married the devil) explained. “It’s better this way,” he told her. “No.” That was all Carter said and has said to him since that day. Carter meandered over to the mirror, looking herself up and down. There was no lack of money in her home on account that her father was a successful oil company owner (another reason not to talk to him) and his lovely wife was a designer for Prada, but all the money seemed to go to the “little angels” her twin 2-year-old- sisters. Carter didn’t care. She didn’t want anything from him anyway. Today she was wearing black shorts and a blue “Save the trees” shirt which she got as a gift from her aunt, her only “good” family member. Her shoulder length straight light brown hair which looked almost blond in the sun was perfectly straight (as always) and her bright green eyes made her stand out from the rest of her “family.” Her father had black hair peppered with white and brown eyes, her stepmom and the devil twins had bright red hair to complement their red, yes red, eyes. “CARTER!!” Evil mini devil #1 screamed. “WE'RE GONNA BE LATE SO HURRY!!” Evil mini devil #2 hollered. “I'M COMING!” Carter shot back as she grabbed her backpack and threw on her converse. Day 1 9:00 Humanities class room Carter was looking out the window. At home, she was always looking out the window at all the trees and animals. Ever since she was little she had this strange magnetism to nature. All animals automatically loved her; even the trees seemed to lean toward her as she walked by. When she was sad it would rain, or snow. When she was mad it would thunder and when she was happy the sun would shine. She was one with the world. It understood her. It was the only thing that seemed to. She understood animals; she could hear them whimper like it was a voice. “Miss Smith!” Carter winced as she was awakened from her daydream by her red faced, ancient teacher, “Could you tell me what is the only country that is also a continent?” “Uhhh...”Carter was never good at geography.

Australia. All of the sudden a strange unfamiliar voice spoke inside her head. Since it was all she had she said it. She blurted out. “That's correct,” He said looking disappointed, “pay attention people.” After class was over, Carter looked to her schedule to see what she had next. Room 201 That's funny. It doesn’t say the class name or teacher...must be a typo.... She turned to the girl next to her who was blond with blue eyes and looked like the classic Malibu Barbie. Her eyes had given her an unsettled feeling, like she knew everything about her in a glance, like she could read her mind.

Day 1 10.30 Room 201 “Uh, hey I'm Carter, what is your next class?” Carter asked “Room 201 and I’m Jaymie...um are you ok? You look like you have just seen a ghost!” That voice, it was the voice from her mind. “Can you read minds?” Carter wasn’t sure where it came from but all of the sudden it seemed like it was a natural question. The answer didn't come through her mouth, it was in her head. In the same voice as before, “yes”. Carter was surprised how naturally she took in stride Jaymie's “talent”, as she called it. Now they were sitting in the classroom 201, waiting for the teacher and their other classmates. Then Carter stopped in mid-sentence, when she heard the chirping that she knew belonged to a squirrel as she turned to a window. Sure enough there was a squirrel there and he was chirping away. She went over to the window and opened it just enough for him to get through. All she heard was his non-sense onomatopoeia, but she somehow in her mind found that he was talking about a crazy man who was talking about how he was about to go teach two girls and boys about their powers, and he mentioned a girl who spoke with animals. He was concerned for her.

Squirrels are noble creatures if you help them once they will forever be in debt to you. This one, Nut-job (don’t laugh he is sensitive), she rescued from being run over by a truck by warning him from the side of the road. Carter laughed and talked to him in reply; she had always done this because they seemed to listen even if they couldn't understand. “I'm sure it's ok, I'll be fine! But you better go before someone catches you!” Nut-job squeaked something very rude about not listening and then scurried out the window. Carter turned to face an awestruck Jaymie, “You-you-you TALKED to him!” “Uh yeah, does that mean I'm crazy?” “NOO! You like talked to him! In like squirrel language!!” “WHAT???” Carter screamed at just the moment their teacher walked in. He was tall and normal looking. Yet there was something about him that set him apart from the rest of the people. It was hard to guess how old he was, his face was...timeless. He looked wise yet, young and energetic. His eyes told the story of a life once lived, one of action and adventure. Following him were two boys. One was blond-green eyed who looked like the typical jock. Broad shoulders, muscular all over, his face though looked kind and open. His eyes had a hint of gentleness underneath the put on toughness. The other looked well, Goth, everything was black, his hair his cloths, everything except his tan skin and shocking blue, icy eyes. His face read, “don’t mess with me” all over.

The teacher walked to the white board and wrote MR.D in all capitals, while the other two boys took their seats just behind Jaymie and Carter. Huh I could have sworn there were two desks before... Carter directed at Jaymie. Me too... was her reply. “Now I'm Mr. D, Welcome! In this class you will find out stuff you may or may not know. You all are different, special. You have a task or destiny in this life, this is not a joke. Leave if you wish, as one of you will eventually, but know that I am telling the truth. Let's start normally with our names and powers.” Mr. D stated from the front of the room. No one seemed surprised at this as they all should have been. Carter realized at that moment what he meant. “You go,” he barked in the direction of the Goth kid. “I'm Jace, and I have power over past and future, I can time travel.” He said while looking away from the window. “I'm Drew,” stated the blond kid who seemed to take the hint that he was next, “and my power is kind of like superman's, all of my natural abilities --speed, eyesight, strength-- are multiplied by like a million. “ 47

“I'm Jaymie, and I can read minds and talk in people’s minds,” stated Jaymie as if she were saying, “I like chocolate.” It was Carter's turn, “uh, I'm Carter and I can control nature and talk to animals,” she said with a certainty she did not realize was her own. I can talk to animals? What am I saying?! “Very good,” Mr. D took over once again, “Through the times that we are here you will all become like the families I know you all don't have. You will learn to use these powers for good. You must never speak of this to anyone, especially people with red eyes,” There were gasps from everyone in the room, and murmur of, my stepsister, my grandpa...etc. “Yes, we will get into that later but remember, this never happened, CLASS DISMISSED!” Jaymie and Carter stepped in to the hall together. Carter looked at her watch, it was on the same time as when she went into the classroom, then as soon as she stepped into hallway it began ticking again. Weird. Carter got halfway down the hall before she realized her bag was gone, “I'll meet you there!” she told Jaymie. When Carter got to where the class was, she thought she made a mistake. All that was there was blank white wall, but then she saw her bag leaning against it with a note, “Don’t forget your bag, Carter!” Day 40 10.30 Hallway at school Over the next month, the four kids began to lean on each other more and more, they became a family. They could understand each other, relate. Mr. D became their mentor. He taught them to master their powers and to understand the world around them. They were a super human race, that all came from one founder. Over the years, they slowly became extinct; they were hunted down by the red eyed people. None of them had mothers because they were the ones who passed it on to them. They were the only four left. Jaymie, Drew, Jace, and Carter were all walking down the hallway, when Carter realized she, yet again forgot her backpack. This was a common occurrence so no one was surprised or worried when she said, “I’ll meet you there! I left my backpack…again.” “Are you sure you want to go alone?” Drew questioned “Yes, I’ll be fine!” Carter laughed When she got to the place where the classroom was, there was her backpack and a note. The only unusual thing was the note read: “Help! I got abducted by the red-eyed people! Don't tell anyone!

Use your powers! Tell the others! They are taking me to SoHo! But be careful of....” then the writing trailed off into scribbles. Carter knew just by looking at it and who it was from. She knew what she had to do.

The Invisible Power by Danny Park On a warm sunny spring morning, there was a village called Comoma Hill, which is located in New Mexico, where it‟s so hot that even the flies are sunburned. “Wake up! Why do I have to wake you up every day?” Sam‟s mom said. Sam opened his eyes and saw a dusty fan blowing in his face, but his pillow and face were still soaking in sweat. He thought about the math teacher, Mr. Hipp, who had made a lot of mistakes yesterday while trying to solve some geometry problems that even middle school students could solve. He closed his eyes and went back to dreaming about Nikita who is a prettiest girl in his class. A few minutes later, Mom shouted with anger “You have to go to school!” Mom shouted. “ Oookay oookay..” Sam declared with exhaustion. When he woke up, he got up from his bed and saw his baby twin brothers sleeping sweetly in the old baby bed next to him. As he made his way to the bathroom, he saw a family of cockroaches crawling across the bathroom floor. Sam said “Hey guys, did you have a good night sleep?” After he washed his face and brushed his teeth, he packed up and walked towards the front door, passing by his drunken father passed out on the sofa. Sam picked up his favorite book, Shakespeare‟s Greatest Plays, beside his father‟s empty beer bottles on the coffee table. He looked back at his mother who was standing beside the breakfast table. She had one arm folded across her chest, supporting her 49

other arm to cover her cheek. Sam knew that slapping sound he heard last night was not a dream. “Not again mom.” Sam exclaimed. “You are going to be late for school… just go.” Mom answered. As he walked 15 blocks to the school he saw a lot of junkies, prostitutes, and drunks. As he walked pass these disgusting images, he escaped in to his mind and thought only about Nikita. She always helps others when her friends need help in studying. A lot of boys like her, including Sam. When Sam got 1 or 2 blocks away from the school, he met a group of students who bully nerds every day. “Hey Math pansy what‟s up?” Sam didn‟t answer and just walked away. Suddenly, a ball flew towards Sam‟s face, and in a second, Sam fell down. The bullies said “HA HA HA HA Little pansy is dying~~” and they walked away. Sam felt something coming out of his nose; he didn‟t know whether it was sweat or water. His nose was bleeding. A boy came over and gave Sam a hand up and said “Are you okay?” When Sam opened his eyes, he realized that it was his best friend, Joe. “Oh… Thanks” Sam said. “Pick up your Shakespeare book. C‟mon, I will help you to get to class. Come on.” Joe said. “I hate those kids who always beat innocent students… I think they do it because they are stupid and they are jealous of me” Sam shook his head.

When they got to the classroom, Sam felt a bruise forming on his nose. Sam called out “Joe! Can you PLEASE bring me the ice from Ms. Shanty? I am too dizzy to do it myself” 50

“Okay okay, I will get it for you, DUDE but only if you lend me the book that you were reading in the ..the ..the library.. What was the book called??” Joe said with excitement. “Oh that book.. um.. I think it was „Pygmalion‟ by Sophocles.” Sam said “Whatever… Just give it to me.” Joe declared. While Joe went out to get the ice, Sam looked around to find Nikita, a beautiful girl. She was sitting with her friends giggling about the teacher, Mr. Hipp who made stupid mistakes during every single math lesson. Sam tried not to look at her but he couldn‟t resist. A few minutes later, Joe came back with the ice in one hand. After he passed the ice to Sam, he went to Nikita and whispered. Sam suddenly got suspicious. „Does he like Nikita?‟ „Nooo nooo impossible ,,,, yes ,, it is possible.. I have to be aware or he will steal Nikita from me.‟ Sam thought. After school, Sam wanted to go to Joe‟s house to do math homework. When Joe walked pass by him in the hall way, Sam asked, “Hey dude, let‟s do homework together in your house.” Joe replied, “Sorry man, I don‟t feel good today.. Let‟s do it some other time..” Joe„s mood which had no affinity with the air of heaven, just slipped pass by. Day after day, week after week, Joe‟s complexion became like a cadaver; his eyes became large, liquid, and luminous. Every time Sam tries to talk to Joe about studying or a new book that came out, Joe refused to talk. Sam didn‟t know what had happened to Joe, so he tried to make Joe somehow happy. As Sam tried to find what happened to Joe, he saw that his love, Nikita didn‟t come to school, and also Joe. “Do you guys know what happened to Joe?” Sam asked his classmates. “How should we know? Aren‟t you his best friend?” A boy named Alex answered. Alex was the one who studies science everyday and he thinks that Sam is his rival in science. 51

“But…But he didn‟t tell me…” Sam replied sadly. “I know what happened! Joe got..” Shelly said with confidence. “ Heyyyyyy guys !!!AAAAAAHH! Emergency!! Alice saw Nikita kidnapped by a stranger!” Carla ran into the classroom and screamed, cutting off Shelly‟s words. “ WHAT?? WAT?? No making fun of other people!” Sam exclaimed. “ NONONONONONONO I am not kidding, really, Alice saw her and the stranger, and as soon as Nikita went into the car, Alice called the police!” Carla panted. After a few seconds, a math teacher, Mr. Hipp came in and told the class about what happened to Nikita. “Everyone calm down.. for a second. It‟s okay... Nikita will come back… Right now, police officers are searching for Nikita. “Mr. Hipp said patiently. For the rest of the school day the entire classroom became gloomy. Every classmate felt guilty. Sam also was no exception. He had a lot of thing that he didn‟t show to her. He told himself, „I will bring Nikita back!‟ That night, Sam came out of his house and found the place where Nikita was kidnapped. He looked around the place so that he could find even a little piece of evidence that he could help him find her. He looked around and around. When Sam looked in to the plughole, he found something shining. It looked like a silver necklace. He asked the cleaner to borrow the tool to take out the cover of the plug hole. He used all of his strength to take off the cover. And then, he picked up the necklace out of the plughole. It was a bit dirty. As soon as he went back home, he cleaned it and read the initials carved into the silver. “J

N… J

N... What‟s J and What‟s N?” Sam talked to himself towards the

necklace. The next day when he went to the school, he saw a lot of kids crowded in his class. Now, everyone in the school knew that Nikita was kidnapped. When the teacher came in, everyone from other classes went out. Today, Joe was in his seat. Sam went there and asked Joe why he didn‟t come yesterday.

“ What did you do yesterday?” Sam asked “I was so sick last night. I was so sweaty and had a nose bleed. I don‟t know why…” Joe replied “Maybe you were tired…” Sam declared. After school, Sam asked Joe to do homework together in his house. This time, Joe was feeling better, so he accepted. When they got to Joe‟s house, Sam felt something change. The mood of Joe‟s room was different. Before it was bright, now it was dark. While they talked about Nikita being kidnapped, Sam felt that Joe was hiding something. “ What do you think about Nikita… I really like her.” Sam said “ Um.. me too… I feel also sad.” Joe replied. While Joe went to the bathroom, Sam looked around the house and looked in the closet. There was some black baggage in there. He pulled it out and looked inside. Suddenly, Joe came in and exclaimed “Hey what are you doing?” “No nothing this baggage was just in the closet.” Sam answered. Joe quickly snatched the baggage out of Sam‟s hand and put it back to the closet. Again, Sam felt something strange towards Joe. “Hey Joe are you hiding something?” Joe asked “What? No!”Joe answered. “ I saw the baggage was full of something red and was stinky. What is it?” Sam asked “Ohh.. It‟s just my um… it‟s a sweat T- Shirt with my nose blood.” Joe replied “o.. ookay” Sam said. Sam packed up his homework and came out of Joe‟s house because he felt something wrong. When Sam got to his house, he saw a necklace with the initial „J N‟ “J

N… J

N… Joe loves Nikita!!!!!” Sam screamed in the hot air. 53

Impossible, Sam thought, but he could imagine it in his head now, and Joe had been acting weiredly… The next day after school, Sam came home with some steel and metal junk that he picked up from a junk yard. He also brought a welding machine from his father‟s auto mechanic shop. He made a weapon like a bat with some spikes on it. That night, he went to Joe‟s house with the weapon and actually he didn‟t go in but he waited for Joe to come out. After 2 minutes, Joe came out and looked around, and walked away. Sam followed him secretly. Sam saw Joe going into the Park storage room. It was new for Sam, he had never seen that place before. Sam waited outside of the storage room and listened to what Joe was saying. He was talking with a girl, it was Nikita. As soon as Sam heard Nikita crying, Sam tried to find a way to rescue Nikita… „What should I do? How can I rescue Nikita?‟ While Sam was thinking about these questions, the door of the storage room opened and a person came out. Sam ran into the guy and hit him with the weapon that he made. The guy blocked it with his left hand and hit Sam back with the right hand. Sam fell to the ground and the guy ran away. The guy‟s left arm was bleeding. If Sam got up, and chased the guy, he could have taken the stranger to the police office, but he couldn‟t… The first thing he thought about was Nikita. As soon as Sam entered the room, he saw Nikita tied up and lied on the ground, mumbling with tape on her mouth, her face covered with dried blood. Sam helped her untie the rope and took off the tape, Nikita suddenly hugged Sam who was embarrassed, but happy. Sam took Nikita to her house and explained what had just happened. And he also explained how he found her by using deduction. Everything was true. The next day, Joe didn‟t come to school. Sam was frustrated. His best friend, Joe kidnapped Nikita, the girl he loves so much that he wants to marry her… Also on the other side he was really scared to be Joe‟s friend. When Sam got back to his house there was a letter for him. The sender was Joe. Sam was afraid to open it. Sam took a deep breath and opened it and read. As Sam read through the letter,

he cried. Now he understood what Joe was feeling…beauty is so powerful that it will turn a good person into a criminal. Sam sent a letter to Joe who had recently been put in prison. Inside the envelope was a silver necklace, carved with those same initials. „J

N‟

Scream by Abby Loh Back when my grandfather was still alive, our families and neighbors would all start a campfire at the nearby beach, surrounded with tall trees that leave shadows in shape of odd creatures. The cold wind would slowly howl and that chill, would sink right into the bones. We would tell ghost stories and little children would hug their mothers. Then, out of somewhere, I heard a scream. I think it came from the trees. “Did you hear that grandpa?” “Hear what Kim?” Grandfather asked. For some reason, no one heard the scream. Was there something wrong with me? Am I hearing voices? I start to panic. “There was a scream! A loud, sharp, scream!” I was standing now. I really think that all those ghost stories are causing me to hallucinate. I looked at my grandfather, standing there stunned. No one said a word. Even little children were looking at me like I was insane. Finally, grandpa said something. “I remember the time Mary was around. Your grandmother, Kim, she died 4 years after our marriage. But before she died, she told me a story. An actually incident that happened when she was young.” Everyone was listening now. I sat and watched the fire‟s glow shine on everyone‟s faces. “When she was young, she stayed with her mother in an old house near the lake. She heard a scream, like Kim did just then, that came from the trees. She looked around but she nothing caught her sight. She tugged on her mother‟s sleeves. She asked her mom if she heard anything. But she said no. At night, a storm hit the town. She ran to close the windows in her room. Suddenly, something white flashed among the trees. It didn‟t look like an animal. But it surely wasn‟t human either. The next day, as curious as she was, she went to her neighbors on the other side of the lake if they saw or heard anything that came from the trees. Her neighbors then said that 34 years ago, a 15 year-old girl named Jane died in a fire her boyfriend set. It burnt the whole forest, and she was lost among the flames. The fire lasted till 10pm at night, the trees 55

were burnt and shaped like creatures in those books parents would read to their children on an ordinary halloween night. But before that, they were living in the house that she is currently living in. she begged her mother to leave, and because she loves her only daughter, she agreed.” I was scared. “So… it was a ghost?!” I raised my voice a little. “Is she going to hurt Kim?” a little girl exclaimed. “I am not sure.” Grandpa said with a frown on his face. “After Mary moved out of that house, no one had the guts to ever stay there again. The house was vacant. But the passer-bys and mail mans at night still feel the shiver as they walked pass that house. Some heard noises coming from the house. Some saw white flashes racing towards the trees. Every time she does, and someone takes the route that cuts between those trees, there would always be a scream. But only one person would hear it, and no knows why. ” I didn‟t want to move. I sat on the log and felt the wind that swept the fire‟s heat on my face. Why am I the only one that heard it? I looked around. The children had scared expressions on their faces. The little girl that asked if I was going to be hurt was pouting and leaning on her mother. The adults started to chatter among themselves. I moved to sit nearer to grandpa. “So... How did grandma die?” I was very curious. Grandpa didn‟t say anything at first. Then he looked at me. Smiled, and said: “It‟s a long story. You must be tired. Go home, Kim.” I nodded, but I still have lots of whys and hows. I did as I was told. I went home, pulled the covers of my bed, and just as I was going to sleep, there was a knock on my door. I jumped right up and ran to the door. I opened the heavy door and all I saw was a post-it note. I tried to make out the handwriting: “After Mary moved, rumors said she drowned in the lake.” I don‟t know what to say. My whole body froze…

Untitled by Selina Hu My Diary March 11th, 2010 Sunday 9:30 p.m. Hi Diary, okay, this is stupid to introduce myself to something made out with paper. Anyways, I‟m Serena Windski, 14 in years, obviously female. I attend Benton Way School, a private school full of spoiled “daddy‟s girl” which you do nothing everyday expect showing off your new clothes. My family is just as simple as everyone else is; I have a mom, a dad, and an annoying little sister who never stop talking about her stupid Barbie Dolls. My dad is a lawyer; he would rather spend most of his time traveling then staying home with my mom. Well, that makes total sense, my mom is a fashion shopaholic, and I mean it for real. Whenever a brand has a new collection, everything will immediately be shipped to our house at 7a.m. on Saturday morning. Okay, enough about my family let me tell you more about my life. As I mentioned earlier, I go to Benton Way School and I‟m now in eighth grade. This school is nothing except richness, what I mean is no one really cares about the grades since their family probably has the money to spend for more than 3 life times. Oh, sorry, my mom is calling me for dinner. I will get back soon. Bye~~ 10:30 p.m. Back from dinner, flipping through my 1st grade yearbook, looking at the adorable faces reminds me that I was actually once that innocent. Wait, did I forget something important? AHHH!!!! I just realize spring break is over, school starts tomorrow, darn it. Okay I‟m going to stop right here, good night diary. March 12th, 2010 Monday----4 p.m. What a miserable day! Okay, so the first class was math & science. Mr. Billton could just drive people insane, I mean, seriously, this is what he does. “Hello class, so today we are learning the quadratic formula, and you HAVE to memorize the formula. Wait, nononono, wait, which means you don‟t have to memorize it, but you have to memorize it because I don‟t need to memorize it.” Okay. Does this help ANYONE learn? I just do not understand why anyone like this could even become a teacher. Later in Science......... Mr. Billton: “Now, every group go take a meter stick, and please put your finger in the middle where it says 50cm.” Since the classroom was so noisy, no one was actually listening so no one moved. 57

Mr. Billton: “Ok people! Did you get it yet? Geez you guys, go take a ruler and please put your ruler on the middle of your finger!” And the class was a full of wonder. “Huh?” “What?” “Ruler on the finger?” Mr. Billton: “Quickly! Put the ruler in the middle of your finger! You heard me!” Yup, this is our lovable Mr. Billton, he is just always like this, oh, and he could never figure the difference between 4.2 and negative 2.4. Surprisingly, in his own little “Billton world”, 4.2 and negative 2.4 just happens to be equivalent to each other. Well, maybe he is just from another planet or something, since the way he thinks and talks just happens to be the opposite of normal. Later in lunch, I had a potato salad and few strawberries with Kate and Tiffany, they are my two BFFs. We three were friends since kindergarten. Kate is from California, her dad owns some electronic company. Kate is gorgeous, her natural highlights and the way she acts around just grabs everyone‟s attention, people thought she had sort of some kind of plastic surgery, also is extremely rich, she has an obsession with girly pink stuffs and sparkly nail polish, she even had Justin Bieber drew a heart on her right hand pinky. Tiffany is from Japan, she‟s the smartest genies in our school, her family owns few hospitals across the world, she finished all the high school lessons already and currently she goes to college level classes. In the afternoon, I had violin practice with Emma. Emma Hills is one of the meanest girls in the school; she‟s the mayor‟s daughter. No one have ever seen her wearing something more than one time, Emma goes back to her house by taking a helicopter. I just wish someday the helicopter will fall to the ground in the middle of the air and she will just die and by that time I will make sure I have some white roses for her (: When school was almost over, Kate came by and told me that I was on Mr. Billton‟s expel student list. This is a

disaster!! I know he hates me and obviously I react the same to him, but

he cannot just control someone‟s life like that! I mean, it is just so unfair! Stop for now, mom just called me for dinner. 11:10 p.m. Thinking of Mr. Billton just drives me insane. Anyone who gets expelled from Benton Way School will be living miserable for the rest of their life, since all of the other high schools will be too afraid to accept anyone from this school. I need to figure a way to save my future, I mean, I‟m not going to live my life like a total idiot (Mr. Billton) and troches people for living when I grow up. I think probably I just have to explore a new way of living now. So much struggling for someone that isn’t even worth it, I figured that since he wants me to be out, then the only way to keep me in is to do the opposite around. Here’s the plan, I will make that annoying person disappear life permanently and live happily ever after (: May 13th, 2010 Tuesday Raining day today. 58

Went to the library in the morning, checked out some geography books for the exam on Friday. Later today in Mr. Billton’s class Mr. Billton is acting like a crazy dumb head again, today’s lesson was just as boring like it always is. I just cannot understand an alien standing next to the whiteboard and randomly whooping sounds out of his mouth. I bent down to open my textbook pages to check the definition, and Mr. Billton just starts yelling to me. “Hey girl, could just please close that full of non-sense? The textbook doesn’t even make sense, it is made to confuse you, it’s WRONG! Get it? Now close that and look at me.” Well, IF THE TEXTBOOK IS WRONG THEN WHY IS IT PUBLISHED! Later, all of a sudden Mr. Billton got a call from the principle for the speech thing on Friday where he has to make a speech introducing our school another country or something. This had been our school’s tradition since before I was born, and how could the principle select someone foolish as him to do such a honorable thing. Last year was the librarian who represented our school, she made five grammar mistakes and she was immediately kicked out of the school, I wonder how well can an ungifted man do. Wait...Wait...Wait...What

did I just say? Kicked out of the

school? So if he messed up? Have to go call Kate now, bye diary. 9:25p.m. Dad is finally back, but the diver told me he’s leaving tomorrow morning to London. Wait, my annoying sister is calling me to play with her mermaid dolls in the pool. Geez, it’s like 9:30p.m. already, whatever I’m just going to sleep now good night diary. May 15th, 2010 Thursday Today was weird; I hadn’t seen Mr. Billton anywhere. I mean it’s a good thing for sure; maybe I’m just not use to it when his gagging sound is not around. Since he did not show up, the perfect plan failed bizarrely. During lunch, Tiffany brought her home-made Japanese sandwiches, they are just so tasty, I hope someday I could make some. Later afternoon the teachers all went to have a meeting, and all the students were dismissed after lunch. In the afternoon I wasn’t feeling good, maybe because I ate too much of those sandwiches. 8:30p.m. I didn’t have any dinner; just don’t feel like eating any. There’s no homework today so I guess sleeping would be clever to do. Good nigh, Diary May 16th, 2010 Friday

Oh My God.... 59

HUGE news. “Mr. Billton had a car accident yesterday morning and unfortunately will not survive.” The school announced

This is scary, someone I have to face every day just dead, like all of a sudden,

DEAD!

My dad called me this afternoon, he asked if I was okay and I’m moving to another safer school tomorrow. This is still unbelievable, but for real, it’s more like shocking to me than actually feeling bad about it. Mr. Billton was a mean person after all, maybe he just deserves to be dead, maybe even the god hates him so much and had to get rid of him. At least now I don’t have to worry about him affecting my future, I guess the new school will be better. Good night, Diary. (:

Obsession by Yiyi Wang Sometime in the past, present, or future, everyone had one single obsession. It drove some people crazy, but for most, it was just a regular part of life. Nobody forced anybody to do it, and they didn’t have to. But for some odd reason, they stuck to it like industrial strength glue. It was taught to young children from a small age to strive for it, for more of it. And they still do. They probably will until the very horrible day that they die. Them, and everyone else in their miserable world. Nobody remembered how this deadly cycle began, and I don’t think anyone even cared. It even led some people to their deathbeds. But there wasn’t anybody to say that it did. Even if there was, there wouldn’t be anyone to believe them. The people that did were labeled as freaks and removed from what society perceived as “normal.” A few people were so obsessed with it so that it was all that has become of them. Every single day was the same, wake up, look in the mirror, and try to be better than they actually are. Of course, no one would tell them that it was impossible. It also drew everyone into hypocrisy. Telling people to be things that they are not, that they will never be, that they themselves even aren’t. This obsession plagued every single person in the world. There was not one single person that did not have even the slightest urge to obtain it. It seemed impossible to stop until one day, a group of people decided to change. These people wake up in the morning, look in the mirror, and try their hardest to resist the urge of this deadly drug. This is an extremely difficult task that many people have attempted but instead surrendered to the flames of hell through their hypocrisy. No matter how much they tried, how much anyone ran from the dark, evil embrace, they failed. So, most people were just fine sticking to their regular routine. Wake up in the morning, look in the mirror, and try to be better than they really are. They then continue on their boring, rather pointless lives of work, school, or just sitting at home. Thinking about what they could be, what they could have been. Working harder to get to the top. The top that no one has ever been to, that no one has ever seen. They thirst for a nonexistent image in their minds of perfection. Of course, this is no fictitious story. Think about it, every single day we have our own deadly cross with the tempting pulls of perfection.

A SUMMER TO NEVER FORGET BY ALEXIS RE

It was a summer of 1923, the 22nd of July 1923 to be more precise. We were all getting ready for battle: our guns were loaded all facing one direction, north. Beyond the dunes of the deadly desert was the reason of our presence, the Touhbak. They were the protectors of Tutankhamen’s tomb. We could already distinguish far away in the horizon a wave of horsemen, leaving behind them a trail of dust and sand. For years we have been fighting against these people to send a second expedition to the tomb and bring back the sarcophagus. At the beginning of the century, an expedition was sent by the ruler of France to find this tomb and bring the sarcophagus back. But the Frenchmen did not approach the door of the tomb yet that the Touhbak arrived and killed them all. Only one man was spared from the massacre, and when the protectors retrieved he started searching for the door. After hours of digging and hardworking, he finally found the door and entered. But what he was not aware of is that deep below the tomb lied the mystic creature, the Griffin protector of Tutankhamen. The legend says that any man that tries to plunder the tomb will awake the creature that will hunt you down and offer your heart as a gift to honor the Pharaoh. And when the French soldier finally reached the sacred chamber, behind him stood the Griffin with his mouth wide open. The Frenchman turned around, let a loud scream out and laughed. The griffin was dead. Over years, his body desiderated and sand mummified him alive.

The Touhbak were only seconds away now, the last dune stood between the protectors and us and as their horses leaped over it my men started firing. We were ambushed behind a small wall, protecting us from the enemy’s fire. But their superiority was enough to make us lose a lot of ground and backed us off in front of the tomb’s door that we wanted to penetrate. The crushing weight of this battalion took down my men one by one, they were dying like flies. My best companion Hamen, who has been fighting with me for years, started yelling in Egyptian: “Allah, haina!” meaning God, help us! Another full battalion had arrived and could be distinguished beyond the dunes of the burning desert. I took him and the remaining six fighters around me and with a chisel I broke the door so we entered the temple where we thought it would be safe.

Darkness was surrounding us. As we walked along a narrow pathway, we could hear from outside our last men agonizing and begging for mercy. While the last scream was lost in the vastness of sand, a groan emerged from an adjoining room not far away from the hallway we were in. Hamen who was looking around to find something to light us with, accidently bumped into a very heavy round object. He suddenly screamed: “I found it!” everyone replied almost at the same time: “What? What is it you found?” with confidence Hamen did not say a word and with the help of the chisel I was carrying started to hit the selling violently until he percied right through it. The light provided by this little hole was just enough for him to make sure what he bumped into was what he was looking for: a mirror. We yelled at him for loosing so much time just for a mirror but he soon stunned us when he flipped the mirror upside down, and oriented it to the sun: a ray of sunshine reflected into the mirror which itself reflected into many others that lite the room. An ancient Egypt technic to light undergrounds we thought. We kept on walking through the pathway that soon led into a huge room. We looked around and listened for the groans but we did not find anything. When I called my men back for a quick reunion, one of them was gone missing. It was H’hmalet, our best sniper. The groans started once again but this time they seemed louder and closer. A random scream emerged from behind a wall: Hamlet had found our friend. He was dead and his body was already half decomposed. A whole in his chest feared the others that thought the Griffin was around to chase us down and offer us to his king, Tutankhamen. I tried to comfort them by saying that the Griffin was just a legend but when another screamed was let out by another of my men, my body started shivering. Hamlet had found the body of the French soldier that long ago went and searched for this tomb. But it isn’t the fact that he was dead that scared us, but more that his heart was missing too.

We kept on looking around until we finally arrived in the sacred room of Tutankhamen, where his body lied. We approached the sarcophagus: it was huge and covered of gold. Rick, my only American companion left got the closest and attempted to open it. Hamlet as soon prevented him from doing that. Surprised, Rick asked him why he could not open it and Hamlet explained: “If you read the engraved inscriptions on the tomb, it says that any man that tries to open this sarcophagus will awake the Griffin who will hunt you down and donate your heart as an offering to Tutankhamen the Great.” Rick laughed, pushed Hamlet out of the way and said: “You see my friend; this is just old writing on an old tomb and also an old malediction that is used to scare everyone. But me, I am young and not “everyone”! And I especially do not believe in this crap! Now I am going to open this sarcophagus so why don’t you, GET OUT OF THE WAY AND GIMME’ SOME ROOM!” Hamlet backed away and as Rick started hammering the top part of this humongous piece of gold as he called it, a roar shook the entire tomb: we turned around and there stood the legendary Griffin. “Not to legendary anymore now!” shouted Hamlet. As we all backed away, Rick just stood there, at the same time stunned and frightened. The 63

Creature slowly walked to him as he knelled down and dropped the chisel. Hamlet shouted: “Get out of the way, that's not gonna’ help!! MOVE OUT!” And as the Griffin took its claws out and lifted its forearm up to strike Rick, a courageous fighter Humtan leaped sideways and got parceled instead of my American fellow. The hybrid finished its job as we ran away from the room.

We ran as fast as we could through the hallway, hid in different rooms and eventually got lost. Hamlet, Rick and I were left together; we had lost the others in one of the hallway. We could hear the creature coming closer to us and as its awful breath smell reached to the room we were in we thought it was the end. As soon as the Griffin stepped in the room, Hamlet took the chisel and charged it. I tried to prevent him but it was too late, he was already fighting the giant monster. Our friend told us to run but I could not let him die, he counted too much for me, I had to help him. Rick who was trembling of fear ran away. I pulled out dynamite, told Hamlet to get away and through it at the Griffin. The explosion was enough of a distraction for us to get away. We ran again, tried to look for the others until I found Vimha’ a faithful soldier that fought many years on our side. He was not dead yet but soon was going to pass away. I asked him what happened and he told me when he and another soldier walked over a tile a humongous rock fell from the ceiling, crushed his legs and the other unlucky fighter. He told me with a really weak voice to get out as quickly as possible or our bodies we lay here for eternity. He was dead. I let his body rest and we left in hope to find our American friend. We took the same pathway and found the corridor where we came from again. We ran to the door when suddenly the reflection in the mirror providing the light stopped. We both fell to the ground. We walked blindly through the darkness until Hamlet bumped into something again. This time it was not what he expected. Through the whole pierced in the ceiling earlier I could distinguish the mirror. I ran and flipped it to the sun. Hamlet screamed and fell back down to the ground. It was the body of Rick or more likely what was left of it: the body was severed in half. The flesh coming out was dry and the heart missing. Only the intestines hanging down from the body and letting a string smell out remained. I helped him up and we made our way to the exit, running like we never did before. I reached to open the door got out, stretched out my hand for my companion and… Nothing, I called his name and silence answered me. I started to panic and went back inside to look for him. All I found is remains of body parts and bones. I went back outside, thinking it could not be possible. I slapped my face thinking I was going to wake up but no, it was real life; it was a summer I never forgot…

Life Changer by Nikita Frantz Megan just couldn’t do it. She had the note ready, she even had a piece of tape on it, but she just couldn’t tape it to the fridge. She didn’t know if she was scared, or if she just didn’t want to. It was a goodbye letter. The kinds you see in every other movie, when the main character leaves home and is too afraid to talk to their parents, face to face. Megan was afraid. She didn’t know how her parents were going to take this. Are they going to try to find me? No, never mind. They don’t care about me. They probably will be happy I left. I am just a hassle to them. They probably have always wanted me gone. Megan was confused. As much as she wanted to leave her life here, she couldn’t face just leaving everything behind to go live in the dumps. At least here, she has food and a shelter. Megan was always the type of person who didn’t care what other people thought of her. But she is fifteen now, and she finally realized that she can’t just keep going on like this. It’s hard not having any friends. When everybody at school is scared of you, even the teachers, you may end up thinking life is not worth living. Nobody can help her. Her parents are never home, her older brother is a jerk, and she has no one at school to go to. Megan decided she is not going to run away from home, because only wimps do that. She rips the letter she spent a whole week writing, into tiny little pieces. She throws it into the trashcan and runs upstairs to her bedroom. She jumps on to her bed, stuffs her face into her pillow and screams louder than she has ever had. Life is hard, for any average teenage girl. Megan has an exceptionally terrible life though. Every day, she has to go through the same routine. First she wakes up in the morning to her lame, oldfashioned alarm clock, and then gets ready for school and has to stare in the mirror at her own tired, depressing face. She then eats breakfast all alone, and walks to school. As soon as she gets in the building she gets thrown around, bumped into, and doesn’t even get a “Hey.” from anyone. Why does everyone hate me? Am I mean to them? No, I don’t even talk to them. Is it because of what I wear? I dress the same way as everyone else. It can’t be that either. I guess that’s why I’m the only one in my class who actually DOES their homework. Because I’m the only one who actually has the time to do it. Every day, while I’m sitting all alone at home, doing my homework, they’re all hanging out, having fun, watching movies, or going on dates with their boyfriends. At school after the holidays, I overhear their conversations with their friends about how exciting their breaks were, how amazing Hawaii is! All I did was sit at home reading books that I’ve already read at least ten times. They don’t know how it feels. To be left out, to be hated. Megan just had enough. She wanted to run away from home, but as she thought about it, she realized that it would only make her life worse, after all. She had to think of a solution. She was tired of all this loneliness. She just wanted to leave it all behind. Get a fresh start. She just didn’t know how to do it. Megan woke up to her alarm the next day. She went through her usual routine before school. Something was different today though. She stopped at her locker right next to a group of girls. They turned around to see who it was for a few seconds, but then they realized that it was just Megan, so

they turned back to their hilarious conversation. She then overheard the gossip girls talking about the new girl, Maria. Megan couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the popular clique. “I heard she’s really nice! But Amanda told me she seemed kinda reserved… She seems pretty cool though. Let’s sit with her at lunch, you guys!” Megan rolled her eyes. Oh, just another one of those cool girls who won’t care about me. Well, Megan was wrong. In English class that day, Mrs. Shannon assigned Maria to sit next to Megan. Maria was really nice and they ended up walking to lunch together after class. Megan never really had any friends before. She had always avoided people. But talking to Maria, Megan had so much fun! She couldn’t stop laughing at Maria’s jokes. They sat next to each other at lunch as well. She could just feel the glares from the group of popular girls who wanted to sit with Maria at lunch. Everything from that day on had changed Megan’s life. She finally had fun in her life, and had a friend to share secrets and talk to. She had Maria. Maria helped her out with everything. They started hanging out after school, and Maria gave her great advice to help get closer with her father. Who knew that just a single person could change Megan’s life forever.

Die For What You Love by Sarah Keck Walt was playing on the street when his mother came agitated from the house. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the forest. “Mommy, where are we going?” he asked her. She didn‟t give an answer. Her eyes were glassy and he could see an expression of sadness and fear in them. “Mommy…?” He whispered. When they reached the forest she stopped and looked him in the eyes. “Walt,” she said “I want you to be strong now! You might see me and your father never again.” “Why, Mommy? Why? What‟s happening?” he cried. His mother gave him a hug and whispered “Be quiet, sweetie. Something‟s happening. There are bad people in the world and some of them don‟t like the way we live. Alone here in the wilderness and in peace with the spirits. They‟re scared of us. We‟re outsider, Walt. You have to be careful with everybody you meet, do you hear me?” “But Mommy, why are you leaving me? I don‟t want to be alone! I can‟t live without you!” he sobbed in her chest. “They don‟t know about you, dear. If we all would escape, they would search for us everywhere. I and your daddy can‟t hide, but you can. Please sweetie, please try not to come back! I‟m begging you! The spirits will protect you. Remember, we will always be with you.” Suddenly loud noises and screaming started behind them. Walt glanced back to his home and saw men, sitting on horses, in front of their house. One of them, a huge man with a giant beard was with them. The boy wanted to scream, but his throat was as dry as straw. “It has started already.” His Mother whispered frightened “I have to go. Wait here for the spirits to get you. I love you, dear.” She kissed his cheek and then ran back to the house, screaming in fear and crying, because she left her only son alone in the wilderness… A wet tongue woke Walt from his dream. He laughed and stroked the black puppy it belonged to. Walt glanced around the forest and heard the birds sing. He‟s 15 years old. Now he lived for 12 years in the forest with the animals and the spirits, who raised him since his mother brought him to them. A black wolf, almost as tall as Walt‟s shoulders, came towards him. “What did you dream? I saw you wriggle and 66

jiggle the whole night.” She asked “Nothing, Jira. I saw my mother again.” “Aw, your mother… She was a special human. So are you.” Walt grinned. Jira was like his surrogate mother. She loved him and he loved her. “These damned huntsmen are in the woods again. I‟d love to bite their heads off, but No won‟t allow me that.” Jira said with a dark voice. Walt nodded approvingly. He hated the Huntsmen, they killed the animals partially just for fun and they felt great if they killed a spirit which doesn‟t happen often fortunately. No was the forests spirit. She made the decisions as the great old leader of all living things in the woods. Her figure was that of a beautiful brown deer, with big golden, green eyes. Walt had seen her just one time and that was when his mother left him at the edge of the forest. He always trusted the spirits like his parents taught him to and he lived like the spirits too. Even if he didn‟t have their power, he was a part of their forest and they loved him. He hugged Jira and said he would go to the river to clean his hair and he would come back soon. Then he stroked the fluffy ears of the small puppy and went on. This summer the weather was not that hot. It was pleasant and the storms which afflict the land from time to time weren‟t destructive like the storms two or three years before. Walt passed a raspberry plant and picked a few from the ripe fruits. He could smell the water of the river, but there was also the smell of fire. The Huntsmen surely had made a fire, because they thought it would scare the animal and spirits away. Of course, the normal animals feared the fire, but the spirits weren‟t scared about it. Why should they? They had supernatural powers. Walt had to grin by the thought of these naive Hunters. He heard those telling stories about heroes who killed dozens of spirits. He wanted to jump into the circle of men and kill every single one who dared to talk bad about spirits, but he didn‟t, because No told him not to kill any humans and Jira too, even if she always talked about it. He felt desperate because he wanted to defend the honor of the spirits. They took care of him since he was three, so he couldn‟t stand it if people, like hunters, pull them down, but he had to hear to No. She was a spirit, who was about several hundred years old. He was just 15 years old. No had to know what she was doing. Walt followed the smell of the fire. He wanted to see if the huntsmen were successfully with their hunt.. The whole forest became silent when he sneaked closer to the camp of the huntsmen. Most of them were still sleeping. Just one of the men was awake and kept watch. Walt ducked behind a blackberry bush. The wind blew from the camp to him, so the hunters‟ dogs couldn‟t smell him. He walked carefully around the camp and looked for the bodies of killed animals. When Walt moved, a twig on the forest floor cracked under his weight. Frightened he paused. Slowly he glanced at the dogs which were tied on a tree near the fire. They still dozed beneath an oak tree. The man poked another man, who still slept, with a weird formed piece of wood and metal. “Hey,” said the man with the piece of wood “I heard something” “Oh, I guess it was just a little bunny. Are you afraid of bunnies? Little, cute, fluffy bunnies? Hah!?” The other man laughed and imitated a bunny with twigs as ears. Walt ignored them and walked crouched to a bush were it smelled after blood. And there it was, a huge dark brown boar, wrapped in dirty towels. Walt closed the boar‟s eyes and kneeled next to it. He felt rage spreading in his mind. What will they do with him? Do they need him to live? Or will they just show-off? He asked himself. He wanted to stroke the boar a last time over the fur, but then he decided that he wanted to see its wounds. He tried to pull it out of the bush… it felt awfully slightly. Then he saw the most terrifying thing he ever saw. The boar lost its entire lower body. Walt felt the tears in his eyes. What have they done to you? His hands started shaking. The rage became harder and stronger. Walt felt like he could carry rocks, big as a tree. These senseless Hunters went out to the woods, killed animals and left then without taking any use of this murdering, which they did in such a cruel way that Walt cried from it. He hated them and one day he‟ll take revenge for those animals. That I never saw them hunting might be good. I think I couldn‟t hold myself of killing them if I see them killing my brothers and sisters. Walt thought dark. His mood had sunk in a record speed until he reached the riverbank. He took of his clothes and tried to calm down when he took a step into the cold and clear water. What could he do to stop this useless killing? The hunters didn‟t deserve it to live in the forest. Something had to be done. One day, Walt thought, One day, when I‟m strong enough, I will chase them out of the forest and they‟ll never dare to come back again. But there was something he 67

was terrified about. What were these sticks of wood and metal and how does it come they could make such a destruction. Walt thought of the boar which lost its half body and shivered. After Walt took his bath, he wanted to walk back hom, to the wolves. He sneaked to the camp again, to see if the hunters were still there, but they already went on. They left the glow. Walt got closer and threw dirt over it, so that it won‟t inflame twigs or dried leaves that flew on it. Jerks... He thought. Just jerks, who don‟t care about the forest would leave glow like that. He walked on in direction home. Suddenly he heard something crack in a bush. Reflexively, he grabbed the heavy dagger on his belt. He bent his knees and glanced around. “Who is there?” he asked slowly, but loud. Then he felt the presence of No. What is she doing here? Usually No was somewhere in the mountains, but sometimes she came down to visit the animals and the other sprits in the forest. Walt was exited. Is it possible to transfer spirit power? Might she have come to give him a special power? Walt couldn‟t avoid these thoughts. He always wished to be like Jira and the other spirits in the forest, so that he imagined possibilities like that. Oh please, he thought I could help you so much if I‟d be stronger! He started running a long time towards the place where he felt Nos‟ presence and suddenly stopped when he heard something rustle in the bushes. He stopped breathing. A feeling told him that something was terribly wrong here. He sweated heavily after he ran that far and fast. What‟s happening in here? He asked himself. Don‟t panic! Maybe there‟s doesn‟t even happening something. He took the dagger from his belt and sneaked carefully over the forest floor aware about that every wrong step could be a deadly mistake. This knowing about the situation came without Walt thinking about it. It was like he looked in the future. The forest dies; the birds stop singing, the animal escape from an unknown force. There is the smell of blood in the air. It‟s no random blood. It is the blood of a spirit… NOW Walt started to panic. What‟s happening? This is totally wrong!!! Oh, spirits stay behind me. He prayed. He could feel No clearly now. Walt knew that she was just a several tree lines away from him. He could smell human. The Hunters are here! He almost cried out when he made this discovery. Walt could hear them whisper in the safety of the bushes, hiding from No. “No…” he breathed the spirits name with fear. She knows that you‟re there! He thought surely. She will make you suffer horribly if you even just come to near to her. He sneaked nearer to where he felt the spirits‟ presence. And there she stood. No, a spirit with such an elegance and beauty that Walt had to stop breathing. He never forgot the first time he saw her. Her pupils were surrounded by a perfect union of gold and green. Her nose was black and shiny. She had a slender body and her tail was set with reddish feathers. Walt swallowed hardly and wanted to step towards her. „Stay away, something will happen. I don‟t want you to get hurt.‟ He stopped shocked when he heard the voice from No in his thoughts. You knew, only from hearing it, that she was an unbelievably wise spirit, even if the voice was young. The wisdom flowed in it, like wind in the desert. Then everything happened too fast. Explosion followed after explosion. Men screamed, birds flew away, stopped singing but started to send pained cries through the sky. Walt couldn‟t move when all this happened. Something bounded him to where he stood. He had fought with all his force, but he could do nothing to help No, who was standing in between dozens of explosions. He could just watch and what he saw made him feel empty, desperate and dead. Between the fires, the burning trees and the glowing grass stood the most beautiful dear, which ever lived. It didn‟t look frightened. Instead it glanced around with golden, green eyes that showed confidence and wisdom. The scared screams of animals filled the forest. Men stormed through the trees towards the dear which still stood motionless in the grass. It closed its eyes. Then a giant man with a beard like cotton, but brown, came with one of these weird pieces of wood and metal, which was as huge as his arm. The man held the wood high and aimed at the slim body of the dear. It looked so desperate. The hunter wanted to have this dear. Its head would look very pretty over his fireplace. He wanted to shot, but then the dear opened its eyes. Their color had changed to a penetrable black. „You will regret this seriously huntsman. Somebody you don‟t know about will take bitter revenge for me. And you already took this persons family away…‟ The dear whispered with a woman‟s‟ voice. Frightened the Hunter paused. He stared at the dear with infidel eyes, but then he put himself together and set a handle on the side of the 68

wood stick. An explosion followed and a ball of iron flew towards the dear. It still didn‟t move a muscle and didn‟t even twitch with its eyes. The bullet hit the dear at the throat and exploded a second time. The explosion split the head and a part of its throat from the rest of the dears‟ body. NO! Walt wanted to scream. His throat felt as dry like winds had blown in it for ages, he couldn‟t make a sound. What happened? Why didn‟t No defend herself? Walt was still stiff and had to watch them carry Nos‟ head and body away. No must have used her powers on him. He felt like a tree, but without leaves, naked and desperate. Why did she do that to me? I could have helped her!... could I have?... Suddenly Walt collapsed powerless and dejectedly. He wouldn‟t have been able to stop the man of killing her. He was just a powerless human against a group of other powerless human, but they had these weird sticks. They don‟t deserve such a power. The entire forest was silent. No single animal made a sound; no single bird sang a song of sorrow; no single wind blew through the trees; no single thought came in Walts‟ mind. He was hollow and so was the forest. There was a voice missing. The leaves on the trees weren‟t whispering the way they whispered when No was still alive, the grass didn‟t sway like it did when no was still alive. It was like everything died with her. Everything, except Walt. He kneeled there, turned into frustration and crying to himself in silence. After he kneeled there until evening, then he put himself up together to stand up. He slipped many times and staggered more, time to time. When he reached the wolves‟ home he gasped and fell on the floor. Jira came frightened and asked: „What happened?” Walt, still couldn‟t speak. He just moaned and felt another tear rolling down his cheek. “Oh, Walt” Jira whispered. She licked his face gently “Tell me what happened.” Walt moaned again, then he exhaled hardly and screamed. Jira twitched back. He started slowly to speak, carefully and quiet: “Huntsmen” He whispered dark “Hunters came and they-they… they killed…” He breathed fast “They killed…” His voice broke. “Walt, who did they kill?! Did they kill a spirit?” Jira asked with anxiety in her voice. Walt began again. “They killed No” he whispered. Jira opened her eyes wide and then cried out to the sky. Walts‟ ears hurt but he didn‟t even try to hold them. He heard her cry like that a long time ago, when her husband, Ur, died because he got killed by the hunters, too. On the next day she killed most of the hunters to take revenge for her husband. But what will she do now? They killed the forests spirit! Even if he didn‟t feel like talking he had to tell her about the new weapons of the hunters. They could destroy the whole forest; kill every single animal and even every single spirit. “How could that happen? How could that happen? I have to call all spirits in the forests! We have to do something! Oh No, how could that happen?” Walt exhaled exhausted. It was all too much for him. I am just a human! He thought tired and fell asleep then. He stood in the river when he heard a womans voice. He instantly recognized as his mothers‟ voice. “Walt! Find the hunters! Defend the Spirits! Save the woods!” “Mother! Where are you?” he called. He ran out of the river and followed his mothers‟ voice, which kept begging him to save the forest. He ran where the fate led him and finally ended up on a huge black rock. How far did he go? He didn‟t know this place. He got closer to the rock and saw something flow in it. He twitched back. He could see through the rock! He got closer again and squeezed his nose on the stone. Then he saw everything better. The liquid which flowed through the rock was red. It looked like blood. Suddenly, a knowing shot through his head, but he couldn‟t reach its meaning. He just felt something. A picture was forming in front of his eyes. He felt a force which was so powerful that it overwhelmed him. The picture became clearer and clearer. Now he could saw the shape of big round eyes. They were greenish and made him sleepy. The air around him became heavy and full of power. He inhaled through his mouth and tasted bitterness on his tongue. Walt had to throw up. He never tasted something that bitter. Even the unripe apples he tried when he was a small child weren‟t that bitter. Take revenge for her… He heard his mothers‟ voice whispering in his head.

Walt gasped. He wanted to sit up, but his body felt like a pile of leaves, eaten by insects and rotting through wetness and warmth. He sweated all over. Slowly he sat up. Walt glanced around, searching for Jira or anybody else. There was nobody. She called the spirits together. They‟re talking about what they‟re going to do. Of course I‟m not with them. I can‟t help, I am human. He thought depressed. When his strength came back, he stood up and walked somewhere. He didn‟t care where he would land. The only thing he wanted was to get away from all the sorrows. He stepped over huge roots and tiny flowers. They seemed like they lost their color. Walt sighed. Since No died, the forest died slowly too. It all lost its life energy from time to time, everything suffered. Why wondering? She kept all this alive. She defended us. Walts throat felt like tied when he started to think about what he saw. The way her head fell off. Just like that, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Just kill a spirit, tear of its head and take it home. Walt founded the energy to start running. His eyes watered and he barely could see. Surprised he stopped to run when he came out of the forest and stood in front of a huge black thing. He just saw its shape because of all the tears in his eyes. He rubed them out and stepped nearer. He gasped. It was the black rock, he dreamed of. Walt was scared because of what happened in his dream, but something told him to squeeze his face against the stone again. He saw the same red liquid flowing through it like in his dream. A tired sigh founded its way out of Walts mouth. Nothing happens… He thought, but then he felt pain spreading in his body, bitter and sad. These kinds of pain which make you feel desperate and small. He couldn‟t scream, but he did in a way. There was coming out no tone from his throat. It was like the air around killed every single sound he made. It was heavy and filled with this same sticky power which also filled the air in Walts dream. „Will you be able to defend the forest for a last time with my powers?‟ He heard No saying. What do you mean with “a last time?” And-and how can I defend the forest with your powers anyway? He said in his thoughts (He couldn‟t speak). „I gave them to you when I “died”. It was time for me. Somebody needs to stop them. They will overtake the entire forest with their firesticks and kill every spirit who tries to stop them.‟ But-but I don‟t feel stronger, I-I can‟t they have those sticks and how-and-why-and-where!! „I trusted your mother and she trusted me, now I have to trust you and you have to trust me‟ BUT-HOW-CAN-I-DO-THAT??! Walt freaked out. „Plants‟ No said and everything around him became normal again. After this weird incident, Walt went to the river. Plants… PLANTS?! What can I do with PLANTS! And how do I use “spirit power” anyway? He thought agitated. How can I help, if they talk in riddles?! He stamped around and then threw himself in the grass. There was this pretty little flower right in front of him. It was so pretty that Walt started to stare at it. If its leaves would be bigger and stronger it would not look so desperate. Walt thought. Suddenly the Flowers leaves grew bigger, stronger and greener, just as he imagined. Walt gasped. Was that possible? Plants… now it makes sense. How could I‟ve been so stupid?! Oooh, plants! He jumped up and danced around. Then he stood still and stared at a tree. He let two huge branches grew out on its side, so that it looked like the tree had two arms. Walt laughed happily, like he was small child. He danced around like he was a bird and flew around. Now I can do something. He thought. Walt waited where the hunters had their camp last time. On the next day they sneaked into the forest and built up their tents. Walt observed them on a tree and waited until it was night. When they slept he searched for a root in the area of one of the hunter who kept watch. Walt founded one right behind him and let it grew. He felt how the tree put all its reservoirs into the one root to let it grow. The hunter who kept watch wasn‟t really aware about what was happening around him. He just sat there and dreamed. Walt divided the root in to half and let it strangle the man so that he couldn‟t make a sound. They‟re fools. Why didn‟t they bring their dogs? Walt sighed and continued strangle the other hunters who still slept. It didn‟t feel good to kill, even if he knew they would destroy everything he loved. He never killed a person. When he was done he wondered where the other man was. The huge man with the cottonbeard, who killed No. Then he looked down and saw him grinning up to him. Walt gasped infidel. “So, what are you doing up there?” the man asked cynically. “Stop you from killing the forest.” Walt whispered. “Oh! I 70

thought you couldn‟t speak. I thought the animals raised you, so I thought you were a senseless animal too.” He laughed ugly at him. “Oh, shut up.” Walt said. He looked down at the man‟s feet and let the grass grow thicker and as strong as a string. Then he tied the man on his feed to the ground. “Damned Spirit child!” the man screamed at him “You will gods punishment. A human who learned spirits power! That can‟t be right!” “And it can‟t be right that humans kill animals and spirits just for fun.” Walt whispered angrily “And innocent people who live in peace with the spirits…” Walt added. The mans‟ eyes became wide, but then he laughed angrily. He held one of the wood sticks at him and aimed carefully. Than he put a hand on the handle and said: “That‟s your end wild boy.” “I‟m not wild. You are.” Walt answered still. When the man wanted to set the handle, Jira cried in the backround. Both turned their heads and the bullet hit Walts left arm, exploded and split it from the rest of his body. Walt screamed and fell. He heard Jira attacking the man. The man screamed. “Walt!” “`Did I help?” “You did!” Jira cried and licked his cheek a last time. “You did…”

Last Time I Saw You By: Gabriela Bednarova

I woke up at midnight to the sound of what seemed to be pebbles thrown on my window. I crept out of bed, slipped on my slippers and tiptoed to the window. When I looked out I didn’t see anything until a voice echoed in the silence of the soft and cloudy night. That sweet voice of his, it was Ben whispering to me: “Ann, come down I have something to show you.” Afraid to wake my father up, I hung from the branch reaching its tip to my window and came down. We walked to the river and sat down next to a tree. The moon was shining so bright, it seemed as if there were a million starts in the sky. We had so much fun; it felt like I knew Ben for a lifetime. After that one night almost every other time we met, we went to the same river and walked and talked under the same bright moon. It felt like I was living in a fairytale. The next night when the pebbles were thrown on my window again I did not climb down the tree and go to the river: I stayed home. The next morning Ben’s mother was banging on our front door screaming “Have you seen Ben? Have you seen Ben?” My father opened the door and asked “No, I am sorry why are you looking for him?” Ben’s mother said “He is missing I looked everywhere for him he is nowhere to be found!” Father, Ben’s mother and I went searching for him. I had a clue where he might be. We looked hours around the river: we even jumped in and searched for his body, thinking he could have drowned. He wasn’t there…. A few weeks later someone found him, he was lying on a beach, dead. When I first heard I burst into tears, nothing, no one could stop me from crying. I never really knew how it would feel to lose a friend. 71

I felt so alone; I had no one to talk to. After Ben died nothing was ever the same. Everything was horrible everyone around me seemed to be laughing non stop and me the one who was always crying every time I thought of Ben. All these years I have lived with guilt, it was my fault Ben drowned, it was my fault I didn’t go with him, it was my fault. I could have saved him but instead I stayed home. His parents moved since they said there were too many reminders of him here; I wish I could do the same. Every time I look out my window and see the bright moon and the stars which remind me of him. One day when our school took a field trip to the river, I couldn’t go close to it, I was as far as I could be. I didn’t want any more reminders. So the next night I went to the lake. I sat there for about two hours just looking at the stars and the moon. I didn’t want to live like this no more. As I was falling in the darkness of the water’s depth, running out of air, my air bubbles were floating around me, fish swimming next to me. The last thought that ran through my mind… I thought we would be together forever… I hit the bottom of the river and I knew I would never come back up.

Operation Guilt by Thiago Soares

People always need something to base their lives upon. A talent, something you can do better than anyone else on the block. Some can sing some can dance; I can solve crimes and chase down thugs to their very last breath. My name is Tim Murphy and I work for LAPD. I am a field’s agent responsible for tracking down some of the biggest criminal minds out there. On September 15th, I was assigned a mission to track down the biggest drug dealer on the streets of Los Angeles. His name is Estor Meldivas. We have got all the information needed. Here it goes. It’s now or never. I walk up slowly into an old broken yellow building on 5 th street. I glaze down at my P.D.A. and look at the 3-D model I have received from the database. It looks similar. Estor owns many hideouts on the coast of LA. This might be one of them. I hold my hand up advising my teammates to halt. I then wave my open hands in the direction of the door into the back of the building. Three of the Swat members climb up the fire escape. We slowly walk up the stairs. On the second floor, we go into apartment 5-B. I stare at a small picture resting on top of the dining table. It is of a Jamaican-looking guy with who seems to be his daughter. Thoughts immediately rush through my mind. I try to remember every single fact I know about Estor. I suddenly find sorrow mixed with all the bad feeling I felt for him. I freeze. My teammates stand up from their shooting stances and suddenly a shot comes through the door and into Jay’s gut. 72

David rushes to aid him as I run to the door and pop 3 bullets into a tall African-American standing by the door. “Brother!” I hear Estor cry out. Estor turns in our direction and uses a whole clip of AK-47 bullets. He shoots everything until another man next to him tells him to stop. He gets into a hummer with three other men. They instantly start driving down the road. It was my moment to lead. I had to tell my squad what to do, but I couldn’t. All I could think of was the look on Estor’s expression as tears ran down his face. “Let’s go Tim!” Chuck yelled out to me! I couldn’t care less about the fact that Chuck had just called me by my first name. I got in the driver’s seat and turned the keys in the jeep. Their hummer was speeding through the highway, as they almost crash onto a truck. I quickly use all the brakes to dodge it and get back on track. I crash the front of the jeep into their back wheel to throw them off balance. Their car jerks into another car. I slow down the jeep thinking their car was done with, but Estor is one step ahead. He kept on driving and pushed the small family car with them. They directed their hummer slightly to the right side, and got of their obstacle. We speeded up as fast as the V-8 motor would let us. I followed his car into a big warehouse downtown. It was brand new and had inside lay a J-457 private jet. I stiffed up my calves and stepped on the brakes. Tired marks were generated on the hot concrete floor as the car drifted into complete rest. I carefully watched step out of their vehicle. I immediately get out and point my nine millimeter pistol at him and what seems to be his family. I see his wife and kids walk out of the plane and cry as I aim at him. I immediately start to feel for them as tears stream down his wife’s face. His little girl screams as he fires shots at us and hits David. I immediately get ready to shoot but the screams get louder. I then think of everything I could possibly do. I think of his family, but also everything he has done. I dodge into cover as I try to make up my mind of what to do. My mind is working at a full one hundred percent right now. The vein on my forehead is growing as sweat pours down it. As I am trying to decide what to do, I hear a shot come from behind me. I am amazed to hear shots finally be fired from our side, but I immediately freeze. I slowly duck out of cover to take a look. Blood eagerly pours out of Estor’s body. I can see greasy red liquid wet the floor where car was parked. Everything goes into slow-motion. I see him slowly collapse as his brain stops sending signals to his muscles. His whole body falls on the ground and twitches for another four seconds, then it all stops. Everyone is quiet; there is no sound in the whole wide world. I quickly swivel my head back to glaze at my teammate Chad holding up his recently fired pistol. Smoke is still floating out of the front of the barrel. One of Estor’s teammates comes out from behind a wooden crate labeled “export” and fires shots at Chad. He

starts running and I immediately explode up and fire many shots in mid-air. The last bullet I fire hits his teammate as I land behind cover again. “Clear!” I scream after looking around me for a couple of seconds. Me and Chad rush up to check everybody. The tallest man, who we thought to be dead, stood up and tried to choke Chad. Chad throws his arms up, deflecting the tall man’s hands and strangles hi back. The man tries to push Chad’s hands away to breathe. He chokes to death right beneath my knees. We go up to Estor’s family. His wife is holding his daughter in the jet and she tries to run inside. I rush in o follow her, but she comes out with a gun. I grab it from her as she cries loudly, and handcuff her. Estor’s crew died that die, together with him. His wife was arrested for attempted murder, and his daughter was sent to the Child Care Center of Los Angeles. It is amazing how such a simple mistake can change people’s lives forever. You make one wrong decision, you regret it forever. You choose the wrong path, you affect those around you. Balance in life is essential, but very hard to get. Estor died in the lab of the LAPD. To this day I cannot figure out what the best option would have been. All these years I thought I had perfected my technique and was the best I could be, I was obviously wrong. I had let emotions get in my way in the middle of my work, and I felt truly sorry for his family. I had tried to apologize to Estor’s wife and daughter but they never forgave me. If I put myself in their shoes, I would have felt the same way. I guess sometimes in life you make decisions you just can’t bear. I quit the force and tried to live a happy stable life. To this day, part of me regrets the whole operation.

Adventure of Star Code by Tommy Lee 1…2…and 3…*Access completed* “Ah….where is this place?” Roy stood up in the middle of the road across his house. “Why am I not in my bed?” He realized that the road was empty; there were no sounds, not even a bird singing. Suddenly, an enormous screen lit up on the sky. In the screen, there was a young woman. Roy questioned her, “Why am I here? And who are you? Do you know me?” There was an awkward silence. Then soon the screen shut down leaving a message, “you are the chosen one”. “Roy, it’s time for school, wake up!” shouted mom. Roy woke up with a stretch. He still had the memory from the dream in his head. ‘What was it? I am the chosen one? What does that mean?’ Roy got dressed and headed to school. As Roy got on the bus, he took a nap since he had a 2 hours long bus ride to school. *Access completed* Roy was in the middle of the road across his house again. “Welcome back to the star code.” Roy was puzzled, he saw the young woman on the screen again. “Who are you, and what’s Star Code?” This time the woman did not ignore, instead, replied with a very polite tone. “To introduce the Star Code, it’s a program where we can access into people’s brain while they are sleeping.” Roy asked, “Why would you want to access into people's brain?” The woman turned on a different screen where it showed crimes that were on the news recently. As Roy watched, he figured out the similarities of the crimes. There were no criminals arrested in each crime. “Do you now understand what star code is?” asked the young woman. All of a sudden, the screen went off and Roy had arrived at school. All day long at school, Roy couldn’t stop thinking about the Star Code. It bothered him all day. “Roy, are you all right?” asked the teacher. He didn’t reply, instead glazed at the clock. It was almost time to go home. Soon, the school bell indicated the end of school. Roy hurried up on the bus home and took a nap. *Access completed* This time, Roy didn’t end up lying in the middle of the road across his house. He was in a café next to the World Bank. He realized that it was the bank where the crimes took place. Soon, the screen lit up again. “Welcome back to Star Code.” The woman greeted Roy. She showed Roy a letter from the Head of the Star Code. The letter read- Greetings, my dear friend, you’ve been chosen. I hope you enjoy the adventure you will take. Wish you luck- star code association75

“What’s the adventure about? What am I supposed to do?” Roy was confused, he also didn’t know if he should join or not. Although, it was just a dream it seemed like a real life adventure. “Here is the first mission you will take.” As the woman pressed her remote, a wider screen came up. There were pictures of the World Bank’s building structure. It guided pathways where there weren’t surveillance cameras. Also, there were pictures of special devices to decode a safe. Roy was amazed, he have never seen these before, not even on movies. “So…what’s this for? Are you telling me to rob the bank?” Again, suddenly the screen shut down. Roy had arrived home.

Roy went directly on his computer. He typed the word “star code”. As he clicked “go”, tons of information about the star code came up. It stated that “star code” was invented by the terrorist association in Pakistan. It was left as a mystery since the 20th century. Roy was surprised; he didn’t want to be a part of the group. He knew himself more than anyone, and that he can’t do such crimes. He decided to forget about the star code. Roy hoped that it would not turn up again in his dreams. The hour hand stroked 12; it was time for Roy to sleep. He put his headphones on and played the music as loud as possible to forget about the star code. Roy slowly fell asleep… *Access completed* Roy was back in the café next to the Word Bank. “DARN IT.” Roy screamed and tried to escape. He ran to the door, the door was locked. He tried to break the window by throwing a chair, the window stayed the same. He panicked; he wanted to get out of his dreams. All plans went through his brain. Then, the movie “inception” came through his mind. In the movie, the characters always woke up when having water splashed on them. Roy searched for water; he was desperate to be woken from his dreams. While searching, he found a letter, it said only way to secede this association is to finish a mission given… behind the letter there was the device he saw yesterday which it decodes a safe, and a map of the structure of the World Bank. The screen lit up with the woman on. “You have exactly 5hours left. You fail; you do it again each time you fall into sleep. You succeed, we will leave you alone.” The woman unlocked the door and activated the star code. Suddenly, Roy was brought into the real world, where there were people walking by the streets, where cops patrol around the banks. Roy took a deep breath and headed to the World Bank. He opened the map. The map led Roy to the basement. There were security cameras everywhere. Roy had to be precautious and alert. When Roy reached downstairs, he faced the most hazardous part. There were sensors between the walls. It was the only path to get to the safe. “What should I do?” Roy hesitated. He skimmed through the map but there were no solutions to pass the sensors.

“It’s just a dream, I won’t die, there’s no way I would die in my own dream.” Roy determined to run through the sensors and quickly open the safe. Although he anticipated the bad results he would get, he ignored it because it was just a dream. 1…2…3… Roy set off and started to go pass the sensors. The sirens rang; Roy felt the security guards’ presence. They were running downstairs to see what has happened. Roy opened the safe. “Who’s there?” Guards were getting closer. Roy had no choice but to hide in the safe. The guards arrived, they saw the sirens ringing but there were no one near the safe. Roy waited until the security guards left. As he heard no more sounds coming outside the safe, he gathered all the money and started to get out of the bank. He passed the sensors once more; then he started running up the stairs as fast as he could. As he reached the door, he faced the security guards. “Are you the one who passed the sensors? Give me the bag; I must check it before you get out of this building.” The guards tried to snatch the bag from Roy. Roy dodged into a room and locked the door. He knew it was just a matter of time before the guards got it. They were banging on the door which didn’t seem to be very strong. In the room, Roy spotted 1 travel bags that looked similar to his bag. He stuffed his bag with the cash from the bank, and the other with whatever he could find to give it volume and weight. One of the guards managed to break the door and come in. Roy immediately ran out with both bags and got a head start. He came into a hallway and stumbled upon a diverged room. He left the bag stuffed with whatever he could find and came out of the building with the bag full of cash. As soon as, Roy came out of the building with the cash, he got out of his dreams.

Roy woke up; he wondered if the crime was on the news. Roy turned on his computer and there, he saw the headline, “Three is a charm.”

Steve and the Nail by Joe Belnap Ding! Steve went over and put butter and honey on his golden brown toast. He sat down on his 5,000 dollar sofa and flipped the flat screen on. The same commercial he‟d seen almost 100 times blasted from the surround sound speakers. “Is your cat bored? Do you hate it when you‟re cat bothers you all the time for attention when you are trying to work? Well we can help. With our new Scurrying Mouse robot your cat will never…” Steve groaned. He switched to the local news channel. “…we are here at Ernie Ernesto‟s house where he is be suspected to be the one who was allegedly behind the murder of John Lawson…”

Ding! This time it was the doorbell. Steve got up and walked downstairs to the door. Behind the door standing there was a short balding pathetic excuse for a man. He looked like the kid in middle school Steve gave a toilet swirly every Tuesday for 3 years. Wait, no. He was dressed in suit and tie but looked less professional then the hobo on Cardinal Street. “Steve Carr?” he said gesturing to Steve. Steve nodded. “Ernie, Ernie Ernesto. I need your help.” 78

__________________________________________ On the couch twiddling his thumbs and looking around like a kid in a candy store, sat Ernie Ernesto. His name kind of sounds likes he is some mobster from Jersey, but from the looks of him, he wasn‟t one. Steve walked holding a bottle of expensive wine and two glasses. “So,” Steve said, “How can I help you, actually, let me guess you want me to clear your name.” “Yeah” Ernie said. “Ernie, can I call you Josh?” Steve asked. “Uh…I…just…uh…” “I‟m just jokin‟. No need to hurt yourself gosh!” Steve laughed, “Anyways, so what happened?” “So I went out to the store to do some grocery shopping when my gas started to run out. I have a horrible car used station wagon from the 80‟s.” “I see” Steve said. Outside, Ernie‟s ugly wood paneled station wagon was parked next to Steve‟s red convertible. “So I filled up my tank and I went inside the gas station and went to the bathroom and saw John Lawson the famous millionaire that lives in Greenhill, that fancy neighborhood. He was really bloody and I am not very good with blood. The bloodiest movie I‟ve seen ever was… uh probably… no… hhmm. Well it doesn‟t matter. So I passed out and I woke up all bloody in an interrogation room.”

“I was thinking at the time what the heck happened and whether I was dreaming or not. They questioned and didn‟t seem to believe my story. They said that I was trying to pick pocket him or something and that I got knocked out in the fight. Isn‟t that just stupid? You believe me right?” “Uh, were there any witnesses?” Steve asked suspiciously. “Yeah, there was this guy named Chad in the stall and hid when he heard fighting and scuffling. Mr. Lawson supposedly grunted and fell silent after a fight. He said he heard something fall after 1 minute.” “That was you.” “Yeah, I think, but the thing is he only heard the door open once. Which would mean the killer would have left.” “Is that it?” questioned Steve. “Yep.” Said Ernie. “So, who is this witness?” “I don‟t remember. I have never seen him before until today.” “Hmm… strange.” Steve said under his breath. “What was that?” Ernie wondered. “Nothing.” Steve said. He was trying to avoid wasting any more time. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I will get back to you after I see whether your story checks out.” Steve said hurriedly. He walked Ernie to the door. Ernie stopped and turned around in the door way.

“Uh, there is something I need to ask. How much will it cost? I don‟t have that much.” Ernie said “It depends.” Steve told Ernie, “I might see you soon, bye.” Steve shut the door abruptly in Ernie‟s face. Steve checked his watch. He started running upstairs. He ran into his living room and turned on the television. “Next up on Star World, Glee Season 2…” Steve sighed in relief. Close one. ___________________________________________

It was rush hour in the police station. Papers and files were being dropped. People ran into co-workers spilling their coffee and dropping their donuts. It was so loud that Steve had to cover his ears. “Excuse me, where is the captain” Steve asked one of the sergeants. “What?!” he asked loudly “Where is the captain?” Steve yelled slowly “I think he is in interrogation room B.” The sergeant said and pointed to the stairs. “Okay, thanks!” thanked Steve. “What?” the Sergeant yelled back. “Nevermind.” Said Steve annoyed. “What?” he yelled back. 81

“Neverm…” Steve started, but just went to talk to the captain. He went down the familiar stairs to Interrogation room B. There were a couple of leaky pipes and the paint was chipping of the peach colored walls. He opened the door to the room. In the middle of the room the bland gray table, a couple of unopened case files lied on the table. Sitting at the end of the table was the captain. He was simply relaxing. The cases were untouched and the captain was snoring like a log being sawed. Besides that the commotion upstairs was not to be heard. Steve cleared his throat. The Captain kept sleeping. Steve did it louder this time and the captain‟s snoring came to an abrupt stop. “Captain?” Steve said quietly. “Steve!” Captain said welcomingly. He was so loud; Steve jumped a little “I haven‟t seen you since the McCallum Kidnapping. What was that 2 months ago?” “That was a week ago.” Steve said. “Oh that‟s right! Well, it seemed like a long time hasn‟t it. Today is torturous. Have you come to cheer me up?” Andrew slurred. “Uh, kind of I guess. So, Andrew, can I have the Ernie Ernesto Case file and Ernesto‟s profile.” Steve asked. “I can‟t say I have. I have been, uh, busy.” Said the captain. “Right,” Steve said suspiciously “Well, I‟ll just take the file and be on my way. Steve snatched the file from the table and shut the door behind him. ___________________________________________________

Steve was driving back and did an hour stakeout at the witness‟s‟ house. Nothing was too conclusive. Ernie didn‟t have a criminal record or anything. Steve finished the case file and decided to take a look at the crime scene. John Donovan was on patrol at the gas station. “Hey John!” Steve said. “Hey,” John said “You want to take a look at the crime scene, I‟m guessing.” Steve nodded. John held up the crime scene tape for Steve to go under into the men‟s bathroom. “How do people go to the bathroom here?” Steve wondered aloud. “Don‟t know. Not a lot of people come here anymore, anyways. I guess this was bad for business.” John joked “Yeah, no kidding!” Steve laughed

The bathroom was pretty ordinary. It smelled horrible, half the sinks didn‟t work, their soap had run out and so had their paper towels, and there was blood all over the floor. Well, the last part is not too ordinary, at least not in Boise. You could tell there was a struggle by the blood on the counter and the wall. They must have fought for at least a minute. The killer must have not been very strong and weaponless. That‟s strange. Steve wrote that down in his notebook.

Did they have a weapon but they were disarmed by Mr. Lawson? Why wouldn‟t the killer check the stalls before there ambush? Was it a random pick pocketing 83

or was it a planned attack? It seems more like a pick pocketing for now. They could have randomly recognized him and have tried to take his wallet or something. What‟s this? Steve picked up a broken red fingernail. It seemed to have broken off in a fight.

What would a girl be doing in the men‟s bathroom? Was it just a metal fan? This is not solid enough evidence to take to the captain. Even if it was a girl, that doesn‟t help the investigation at all. It is still curious though. Steve moved toward the ear-witness‟s stall. Nothing interesting caught his eye.

Ok, it was Ernie, the witness, or someone else. Well, that narrows it down. “Well, thank you for letting me take a look around John.” Steve sighed. “No problem.” John said with his mouth full of Fritos. As Steve was walking out he saw the killer. She did it and he knew it. She was wearing designer clothes with sunglasses that covered her face. She was talking on the phone, probably to a boy by the way she was moving her hands and smiling. Her fingers were painted a blood red and her index finger was chipped. Steve held up the broken nail from the crime scene. Steve walks over to the lady.

“Yeah, see you then Chad... bye” the killer flirted. She flipped her phone closed. “Excuse me ma‟am.” Steve politely said. He tapped her shoulder. “What do you want... oh hello.” she said as she turned around and saw Steve. “Hi.” Steve said.

“I don‟t believe we have met before.” she said putting out her hand for Steve to kiss it. He was dumbfounded. “No we haven‟t. Steve Carr, I am investigating the murder of John Lawson here, and you?” Steve said. He ignored the hand. “Oh well, I am Karen Lawson, I am...was John‟s wife...” She started crying. It was a pretty good cry but Steve didn‟t fall for it for one second. “I am sorry for your loss.” She then proceeded to give him a hug rest her head on Steve‟s shoulder and cry. He felt violated and kind of patted her on the back half-heartedly. Then Steve had an idea. “Don‟t worry I‟ll bring that Ernie Ernesto to justice.” Finally, Karen pulled back. “Really?” Karen said with a hopeful voice. Steve wanted to say “no” so badly, but he kept the lie going. “Yeah, he is practically already in jail.” Steve lied “Oh, thank you so much for your help I am so glad someone is watching out for me.” she looked into his eyes deeply and awkwardly “So,” Steve said uncomfortably “Did you ever know who Ernie was.” “No, I have never seen him before and neither had John... until... he was…” She started to cry and come towards Steve again. “uh,uh,I got to go. Thank you for your time.” Steve said walking away “I‟ll see you some time,” Ms. Lawson waved. “…or not.” Steve said in between his clenched teeth.

___________________

Steve was back at his house. He was flipping through Karen Lawson‟s profile when he saw an old station wagon pull up. Ding! Steve pulled himself off the couch and opened the door to a nervous looking Ernie. “Did you solve it? Did you solve the case?” Ernie said excitedly. “Not quite.” Steve said. “Oh, well.” Ernie said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. “I have a „who‟, but I don‟t know „how‟.” Steve thought aloud. “Why? She did it, most likely, for the insurance money. It‟s always the insurance. She gets all of the money if he dies earlier than 80 years old.” Steve threw Ernie the case file. Ernie made a clumsy catch. “It seems very unlikely that you did this, no offense. Have you ever met the Lawson‟s before, Ernie?” steve asked Ernie thought for a second. “Yes! One time I sold them furniture. It was about 6 months ago. They came into my store and asked about the furniture and said they were new to the area and wanted to know the good places to go. I told them I liked the gas station on Vintage Street because they have almost all the best candy in the world. Then they bought this huge fancy sofa.” Ernie explained.

“That is the gas station where he was killed. How does it connect?” Steve wondered “I got it!” “What is it? Can‟t you tell me?” Ernie asked. “At the police station” Mr. Carr said as he got his coat. ___________________

Everything was a lot calmer than before. Everyone was sitting down pretending like they were doing work, but actually on Facebook. Not a lot of people were talking at all. The captain walked out of his office and Steve caught his eye. “Hey, Mr. Carr” Captain Andrew greeted. “I know who killed Mr. Lawson.” Steve said. “Wasn‟t it that guy?” the Captain pointed at Ernie. “No, it was the witness and Mrs. Lawson. They were lovers.” “Typical.” the Captain said. “Karen Lawson was having arguments and disagreements with her husband John for months. She decided to plan his death. She wanted his money more than him. She called up her lover and said they should kill her husband. He probably disagreed at first, but she probably seduced him into it. When Ernie 6 months ago told them about the gas station she realized that was the perfect place to do it. She could empty the tank till only a little bit was left so we would have to go to that gas station. When I looked at the car I realized it had been messed with recently. He went to the gas station and went to the restroom. She

knew he would. She was hiding behind the door and just knocked him dead cold. Then, to make it look like a struggle she bashed his head a couple times against the walls and stuff.” “I don‟t understand why the gas station?” the Captain asked. “Because of Ernie. He told them he went to that gas station every day in the morning. She could use him to blame for the death of Mr. Lawson.” “Where‟s your evidence? This is all circumstantial.” the Captain said. “Well I found this red fingernail at the scene of the crime, but I also found connections between Chad the witness and Karen. When I went to question her, she got off the phone with a Chad, which if we check her phone records is probably THE Chad. “Good Work Detective. Looks like I‟ll be having a date with Karen Lawson.” The captain said.

The Coma by Lisa Lu Blood. I see it, I smell it, and my face is smeared all over with it. I hear sirens as I lay numbly on the frozen, wet snow which is now stained with blood. My blood. As I think about it, my stomach begins to heave. “Don’t think about it, Melanie” I thought to myself, “Help will come.” Then the pain hits me, “well that was quick” was my last thought as I drift off. I couldn‟t stand the pain anymore. I woke up later and the pain was gone. I see myself lying in a hospital bed with a hideous hospital gown on. Wait, what? I see myself? Sure enough, I was watching myself sleep like I was in a movie theatre or something. I see my parents walking in the room and I see their red, blotchy faces. My parents cry? I‟ve never seen them cry in my life before, it‟s not like I died or something, right? "Mom! Dad!" I cried, but they didn't turn at the sound of my voice. I looked around at where I was standing and flipped out, I was hovering .I‟m not kidding, I was like two inches off the ground! Am I dead? Or is this just a messed up dream I'm in?

“Melanie?” mom said to my awkward sleeping form, (at least I hoped it was sleeping), I wanted to wake up from this stupid dream and tell my parents that I was alright. "Hey mom", I said, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. My mom burst into tears, my dad was busy talking to the doctor to notice my mom. The doctor was talking about my condition and the only non-medical words I heard were „Melanie‟ and „coma‟. That‟s all I needed to know. I thought back to the night of the accident, how I was the only person that flew out of the window of a bus crash and was the only one that got fatal injuries. Just my luck. As I was thinking about it, I found myself sitting on the exact bus but this time, I had superhuman powers and I could see the whole accident at different point of views. It was a cold, snowy night and I was riding the bus home, I remember I was sitting near the back and when the bus made contact with the other car. It was all in slow motion and I could see myself from a million other point of views and different angles of how I crashed through the window of the bus. As I crash down on the snow, something didn‟t feel quite right and to my surprise there was another person lying beside me looking bloody and torn up. That was strange, I don't quite remember another person lying next to me. He groaned and turned around and saw me lying there unconscious, blood and gore and all, and he turned five shades of green. "Hey, are you alright?", I asked, not even sure if he could hear me or not. To my biggest surprise, he turned at the sound of my voice and all the green from his face drained leaving a very pale face for a tan person. Man, was I that hideous? He cracked a smile. I guess I spoken out loud then, he still looked pretty shocked though. "You... you're part of this too?" He stuttered out. "Part of what?" "This... coma thing." The guy said. He had brown (bloody) hair, brown eyes and tan skin. Compared to my black hair, green eyes and extremely pale skin, he was easier to spot in the snow than me. "You're not a ghost right?" The guy looked creeped out by me. I laughed at his expression. "Of course not...” I said, “Who are you and where the heck am I?" That was rude but I wanted to wake up from this stupid coma. I hoped this wasn't one of those supernatural movies where I had to go on an epic adventure to save my friends or something. He laughed. “My name is Sam. I was the guy that tried to save you when you flew out by jumping out the window and hurting myself along the way.” he said as a matter of fact. Wow, that was heroic, well the saving me part anyway. ”As for where you are, I don't really know. You're in a coma and I'm in a coma. So we're in like a coma world." I just stared at him. How did he know so much? "I just know" he answered, smirking. I really have got to stop this thinking aloud thing. He just smirked at me. "I've been here an hour earlier than you." He explained. "Only an hour?" I snorted. 89

He just smiled "Don't underestimate time." The scene disappeared and I was at the park near my neighborhood. I saw my 14 year old self with my parents. We were arguing, I was being a brat and complaining how they won't give me so much money when I go hang out with my friends. I see my parent‟s worried expression and I felt guilty, for what I've done two years ago. I looked around and that‟s when I saw him. Sam. He didn't notice me though, he was staring at the 14 year old me with two ice cream cones, one he was licking already and one was melting onto his hand. Well this is awkward. The coma shows me more memories of my family and friends, they were all unforgettable ones, both happy and sad. They made me happy because I could sort of control and watch what was going on in my own world. The creepiest part was that Sam will somehow appear in my memories and he will never notice the coma version of me, but will only notice me in my memories. He apparently knew me since elementary school, but I never noticed him. Sam was either some creepy stalker or he is really interested in getting to know me but too shy to approach. I hoped this was just a scary coma dream and Sam didn't exist. Sam does not exist. "Hey you're back." Sam's voice creeped out of nowhere. I jumped, I looked around and I was back in the scene of the car accident. I cleared my throat, "Um... hi" I said, feeling weird because I was talking to a guy of my imaginations. He had an innocent expression on his face, it reminded me of a memory I was in. "So.. We knew each other in 3rd grade did we?” I gave him a 'I know all about you' face even though I didn't. His innocent expression disappeared. "You know?” he asked, flabbergasted. It was finally my turn to smirk. "Yes I do." The smirk faded. "You‟re not a stalker are you?" I asked stupidly. He looked surprised and amused. "Why would you think that? I followed you around because..." Oh god, I never had to handle with boy problems before, I mean I've never even had a boyfriend before! He seems pretty cute and he probably likes me. Where was I thinking? I could control this world right? So I could control what Sam was saying and make him like me? I could stay in this world forever and make my life perfect. What if... "Uh, Melanie? Are you listening?" Sam seemed concerned. "Yeah! I'm alright. Healthy as a horse." I gave him a lame smile and a goofy thumbs up. I mentally slapped myself for doing that. “I only followed you around because... Well you know that day when I first met you, well I...." I couldn't hear him anymore. I was too lost in my own mind, in my own thoughts. Was Sam real? Is this a dream or was I dead? Am I really in a coma? I could really stay here forever and have all the money I have in the world, have a cute boyfriend, loving parents who will agree to anything I say to them.. 90

Something went off in my head and I realized what my coma was trying to make me do, it was trying to make me stay in a coma forever! All those memories of my family, friends, even Sam(even though he might be made up) were to remind me of all the things in life I would miss and would miss me if I stayed in this world, this perfect bubble of imagination. My world is full of flaws and thatâ&#x20AC;&#x;s what life is about. My parents won't survive without me and my friends will miss me. I needed to get back. I needed to get back!! I pushed Sam away, stood up and ran. I ran where my heart told me to run and I ran into a light wall. Hey this was really like one of those epic, cheesy movies, except that this was serious. I ran and ran till I tripped and fell into a huge hole. Down I went, like Alice in Wonderland, I really hoped I was getting out of here soon. There was too much perfection here for me and I needed to get back to my own world. I was drifting slowly now, I was on my way home, back to mom and dad, back to my friends, away from the coma and Sam. I woke up, and saw two faces peering down on me. "SHE'S AWAKE!" Cheers erupted throughout the room, laughter and tears of my family and friends were everywhere and I saw the two faces of my parents. I hugged them and reassured them I was okay a billion times before they let me go. It turns out I was in a coma for 2 weeks and the doctors said I was in an unstable condition but I managed to overcome it. I guess I was just lucky this time. As I walked down the hospital hallway for the last time, I see this guy sitting on one of the seats, he was tall, tan, and had brown hair. My heart beat faster than it normally would. Calm down I told myself, it's probably not him. I avoided looking at the guy and kept my head straight forward as I walked past him. Thanks to my clumsiness, I tripped on his leg that was stuck out (not purposely I hope) and fell. He rushed to help me. "I'm so sorry!" I said, not wanting to look at this guy "It's alright. Hey you're Melanie, right? That coma girl that they were celebrating about last night." He said. I turned around to look at him. Standing there, wearing his signature smirk, was Sam.

The Life of My Death by Lucy Liu Panting hard as I was sprinting down the dirt trail into the darkened forest. The forest welcomed me with open arms as I aimlessly dashed around trying to get away from him. A growl stuck the air, a hollow, saddened growl. Shivers run down my body. The scream was unlike any other Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve ever heard. It was broken. I fought back the tears that 91

welled up at my eyes. I must get away from here, I thought, I’ll die. By now I was out of breath, my body was telling me to stop and I was slowing down. I kept my pace but soon I heard an unwanted sound of footsteps. This is it, I’m going to die; is what one part of me was thinking but my other half told me to push on. I saw street lights after 10 minutes of sprinting. I felt like collapsing but I knew I would be home, I would be safe. Suddenly out of nowhere he stepped in front of me. I crashed into him hard but he stood still as I went flying backwards. Reacting quickly, I crawled backwards. He stood his ground as I felt my back press up against a tree. “No, please, no!” I exclaimed while sobbing. This couldn’t be the end. I didn’t deserve any of this. His shadowed figure slowly inched his way toward me. I curled up into a ball bawling my eyes out. He grabbed me by my hair and lifted me up as a scream escaped from my mouth. With furious eyes, he slapped me. Leaving a stinging pain and possibly a hand mark on my cheek I wondered if it was because of my escape. His grasp on my hair tightened as I squirmed. He dragged me back towards the house. My attempts to get him to release me were useless and I fell limp allowing him to take me back. The door of the house flew open with the kick of his feet. Surely I’ve gotten a burn on my back from being dragged through the forest. I felt the prickling of twigs and small stones as I as hoisted up and thrown down the stairs into the damp basement. He grunted as he slowly stepped down the stairs. I quickly scampered into a corner hugging my knees hoping that he wouldn’t see me but those were pathetic hopes. He walked over towards a rusted table that had sharp objects of all sorts. I saw his hand slowly hovering across all the choices of weapons and slowing down as he landed on a small pointed dagger that had a curved grip. He picked it up and inspected the sharpness of the blade. While plucking the blade with his fingernail he took dramatic strides towards me. Grabbing my wrist with a strong grip he handcuffed me onto a metal pole running horizontally across the room. My killer dragged the dagger across my cheek along the tears that were pooling down my face. With a bit more pressure applied a long but shallow cut was made from the corner of my mouth fading out. Moving onto my wrists he made short but insanely deep cuts all over, making sure I felt the pain. Screaming in pain he looked up with evil twisted smirk. Without warning he unexpectedly stabbed my stomach. Groaning with the throbbing agony I felt all over, he pulled out the dagger allowing my crimson blood to drip from the tinted blade. A thick gooey substance that tasted like a mixture of rust and salt flooded my mouth. I spit it out, spilling down my chin and onto my shirt. I looked down at my stomach; there was a black and red hole in the center with a thick liquid dripping down endlessly. I looked up to him with pleading eyes once more, being hopeful that he could spare me. With a single glance the infamous smirk played back on his face. Once more he drove the danger into me, twisting it around making sure it was placed deep and in would stay in tack. I sucked in a breath of air as the pain shot all through my body once more. He backed off and all sense of feeling was drained from my body. My eyes drooped as they slowly closed shut and I fell into a deep sleep with no escape. My name was Elizabeth Kate. I was only 15 when I died. On October 23rd 2009, I planned on running away from home. I clearly remember it was 3:30 and the bell dismissed us from school. That day I decided to explore for a nice place for me to go to before I left 92

home. I hated my family, every single one of them. My bother did drugs just like our parents. My mom was an alcoholic and my dad was never home half the time. The times that my father did come home were the times he would beat me. My father called me the outcast of the family, the one that wasn’t like any other. I was abnormal for them. I was the only sane one. They wouldn’t miss me if I left, they don’t even notice me. My parents had told me when I was 6 that the birth of me was only an accident. And this is the story of my death. I trudged through the woods, dumping my school bag beside a decaying tree nearby the road. It was a chilly day, colder than the usual and I only had a baseball shirt on. I kept on moving forward, deeper into the dark forest, listening to the sound my feet made on the leaf covered forest floor. “This is useless,” I muttered, watching my breath dangle in the air. Just as I was about to turn back I spotted a flat one-story house at the horizon. The colors painted on the walls seemed incredibly inviting. Curious, I marched on towards the bright house. I stood at the front steps of the porch considering if I should turn back or knock and ask for directions back to the main road. But before I had a chance to blink the door creaked open revealing a man in his mid 30’s looking curiously down upon me. “Uh…” I hesitated, wide eyed. He looked back lifting an eyebrow. “Sorry, I was just kind of lost and it was getting late.” I said looking down due to the embarrassment. “Oh, well would you like to come in and sit? It’s getting late and it’s a bit dangerous for you to walk back now. It gets dark quicker in these parts.” He replied in a husky, gentle voice. I simply nodded my head and asked if I could borrow his phone to call my parents to pick me up. I doubted they would though but it didn’t hurt to try. The mysterious man by the name of Howard Allen invited me in and told me to take a seat as he went to fetch the phone. He came back handing over a white cordless with a light smile on his face. I gladly accepted and began dialing my mother’s phone number. As if on cue, the whole house had a power outage. I blinked a few times allowing my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. “Allen?” I asked. “Where are you, do you have any flashlights?” I stood up from the couch and made my way towards the front door. Then suddenly out of the shadows a fist flew out and collided with my face. I fell to the floor clutching onto my jaw. That’s definitely going to leave a bruise, I thought to myself. I hesitantly attempted to stand up and once I got to my feet I hobbled a bit as a hand grabbed onto my upper arm with nails digging into my skin, piercing it. I turned quiet; it was only my sudden reaction. This is what happened to me every other day at home. It was my automatic response due to the beatings my dad gave me. My face fell emotionless as I was expecting a kick in the stomach or punch in the face. But nothing came towards me. I was being lead into the basement as I was thrown down there like a ragdoll. I sat at the last step taking no reaction whatsoever. A simple click of the lock disrupted my silence and I stepped back into reality. I stood up dusting myself off calmly. “Whatever,” I quietly whispered. I sat down leaning on the cool wall closing my eyes waiting for a chance to escape. I slowly drifted off into a light slumber. I woke up to the sound of footsteps getting closer. I quickly shot up and prepared to make a dash for it. Allen walked into the basement with a plate of stale looking bread. “Hungry I suppose?” he said simply as if nothing was wrong. I stared at him wondering how he could talk to calmly when he has some kid living in his basement. “Sure” I answered 93

back pretending I was going to take the bread. I walked closer looking for the perfect chance to escape. With just my luck he glanced away at perfect timing and I lifted up my leg kicking him in the chest forcing him to fly backwards. I raced up the stairs and flew out the door.

The World Wasn’t What It Seemed by Jakes Laas It‟s the year 3000, and the Earth is seeing its last few minutes of existence. “Why do we have to do this dad? Why do we have to leave the planet what we have been living on for all of our lives?” David asks with a sad, questioning look on his face. “It‟s only for our own good, we have no other choice, and unless you want to die on the planet you were raised on, get on the ship”, said David‟s father with a stressed tone. “Now hurry, we don‟t have much time left.” Despondent, David climbs on the ship, taking one last look at the place he grew up and lived on for all his live. His whole life flashed in front of his eyes, his first day of school, the first time he scraped the skin off of his knees, his first girlfriend and his first heart break, his last day of middle school and first day of high school till today. It is not easy for him to leave, but he has to, it is his only choice. David‟s father gets on the ship and they both fasten their seatbelts. “This is your captain speaking, please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated during takeoff, thank you and have a nice flight.” “These seatbelts are so annoying”, David said to his dad, “why do they have to wrap around your whole body?” David‟s father looked at him, but didn‟t answer. The whole ship started shaking violently as it left the ground. David looked at the destroyed, ruined Earth as they leave and says his silent goodbyes. Fifty years ago, everything was going fine. The Earth was healthy and the humans managed to get rid of all the pollution in the air and bring all the extinct species back to life. The population went down and it is staying at a reasonable number. The Earth was perfect, but there was one problem, they found out that they aren‟t alone. There has always been life beyond the Earth‟s galaxy and these life forms are widely known as aliens. All those horror movies about aliens coming to Earth and abducting people were true, all of them. The people didn‟t know what to do when the aliens confronted them, they brought out all their weapons and defenses, ready to fight. The aliens didn‟t want to make enemies, they only wanted to test on human beings, to see how they work, that‟s what they always have wanted to do, but this time they made themselves public. They did this because they wanted to make a deal with the humans. They‟re deal was that if they can experiment on humans, they would give all their technologies to the humans. (Aliens have far better technologies than humans). A couple of years later, things began going wrong. The humans started refusing to be tested on, because they hurt the people and sometimes kill them, the humans didn‟t like this. They had all of the alien‟s technologies and had no reason to be tested on, so they started shooting alien ships down that come to pick up the humans, that‟s 94

when the aliens started getting mad. The aliens started fighting back and they brought other alien races to help them. They started to attack Earth with everything they had. At first, the humans could hold out, but later it got too much, they started to run out of soldier and ammunition. David never knew his mother. His dad told him that she died giving birth to him, but David doesn‟t think so. He remembers his father‟s face when he looks at David‟s mother‟s pictures on the living room wall. Tears sometimes roll down his face like a gentle stream, but then his heart hardens and he turns away with an angry look on his face. That is where David started to get suspicious. Some people like David and his father saw that they weren‟t going to win against these creatures, so they started building a ship that can take about 30 people. They used all the technologies that the aliens gave and combined their own knowledge they made a rocket ship that does not have to refuel, because it runs on Carbon Dioxide and releases oxygen, so as long as there is humans in the cabin, it would fly. This ship can break the light barrier and can fly 1 light-year in about 5 minutes. “But dad…” “No buts David, we are not going back, there is no use.” David‟s father is getting annoyed, because David is not a kid that wants to take no for an answer, he always argues. “As soon as we get to a new planet, we will name it Earth again and try to make it the same as the old one. We can build the same houses, and make everything the same, and the best of all is that we will have the whole planet to ourselves.” “It would never be the same”, he thought to himself. He just wants to jump around hitting stuff, that‟s how angry he is, but he saw that his father is angry and stressed out, so he chose not to. David is not very happy, because he loved his town, the people and everything concerning it, but he has to listen to his father, especially because he was right about the aliens attacking and he saw what was going to happen. He should know what they are supposed to do. “David, I have to tell you something. Your mother did not die when she gave birth to you.” Astonished, David looked at his father, wanting to hear more about his mother. “Just after your birth, your mother and I sat on the porch on a cool windy afternoon as we watched the sun set with grace.” David could see the disappointment on his father‟s face. “… I heard high pitch noise and then complete silence. I wondered what it was, so I ran to your bed to see if you are okay. When I came back…” He paused for a moment. Tears dared to stream down his cheeks, but he held it back to the best of his ability. “When I came back” he said again. “Your mother was gone, nowhere to be seen. Just her scarf left on the seat.” David felt uncomfortable. He swallowed, but it seemed impossible, because it felt like his heart was stuck in his throat. “The aliens took her?” David asked with a stuttering voice. “I am afraid so, and it is my entire fault.” David‟s dad replied, with tears running down his face.” David did not know what to say. The ship is almost out of the Earth‟s atmosphere when they hear a strange noise. The captain went and checked it out, it didn‟t look good. It looked like they got shot, by one of their own. The humans didn‟t want them leaving, and they tried to do anything to stop them. They lost both of their engines and they started plummeting down to Earth. They crashed and everyone died on the ship. A couple of days later, the Earth was destroyed, and the human race was extinct, all because of a moment of greed.

The Missing One by Dean Hurtado There was once a little boy named Johnny, Johnny comes from a small town in Aklorida called St. Borgworm. He has a somewhat normal life for a young 7 year old, he goes to school every day at 9 and doesn’t come home until 2 in the afternoon. When he is at home he likes to play video games and like to play with his older brothers, Johnny has 4 older brothers James, Anthony, Wade and Mike, and they are Quadruplets. Their dad works as a teacher in a public school, while their mom is only 28 but she is currently unemployed. Johnny gets the least attention out of all of them because he is the most normal in his family, because his brothers are quadruplets they have a form of autism or some type of brain disorder which enables them to go to regular schools, they stay at home all day and do nothing. Johnny’s parents are very impressed with him because even though he is the youngest one in the family he understands the problems that his brothers have and he doesn’t crave for all or even most of the attention like other 7 year olds. Johnny is like his dad, he is quiet, doesn’t like the spotlight and he is a very shy person. Even though he is shy, he gets along well with every one quite easily. He has lots of friends at school but his best friend is Marley, he is a Jamaican guy who was born and raised in St. Borgworm. Marley and Johnny have known each other since they were 3, they always hangout after school and talk about all of their problems at home and at school. Marley always tells Johnny that they will always be best friends even if one of them leaves the town to go somewhere, Johnny would always reply by saying “You don’t need to say that, I would never leave St. Borgworm. It’s my home and I will 96

stay here till the day I die.” Johnny always tells people that he will never ever, , ever leave St. Borgworm, the town means so much to him that he will do anything to make sure that everything is fine and that everyone in St. Borgworm is safe. St. Borgworm is a very safe place to live in fact St. Borgworm has the smallest crime rate in all of Aklorida, Aklorida is the country right at the coast of Madagascar, it isn’t a very big country but it is rich because of its huge gold deposits. One day Johnny met a guy names Dash, Dash was around about 15 years old. Johnny thought that he was really cool and slick, Dash was the cool rock star type of guy, and he listened to heavy metal and has a cool European accent. Johnny and Dash would hangout once in awhile and talk about what they have done in the past few weeks but then one day Dash didn’t appear to their usual hangout place, Johnny looked for him for 3 straight weeks because he cared for him so much. After over a year of searching he was unable to find Dash, it bothered him a lot because he could have been kidnapped and if he was it would have been his fault. Johnny has really sad about not being able to see his friend anymore; he was depressed most of the time thinking about Dash that one day he decided to run away and to look for him.

The Beginning of the End by Alice Zhang (Note: The protagonist is anonymous.)

I lie on the yellow couch; legs sprawled out, feet bare and hanging. My jaw creaks as I yawn widely, not bothering to cover my mouth. I am the only one here, anyways. The atmosphere of the day is one of quiet lethargy; the sound of traffic is muted. Groaning slightly, my joints popping, I get up off the sagging couch and step unsteadily towards the small balcony of my apartment. I lean on the metal railing, elbows scraping against the rough surface of the metal and face turned to catch the nonexistent breeze. The sky is overcast, the air lukewarm and humid on my skin, tingling with a hint of static. The view is nothing grand; I can see a glimpse of the New York skyline, the mustard yellow taxis and the sleeker, better-cared for cars owned by people meandering by at an amicable pace. It seems as though the world 97

is in a state of half-consciousness. The people walk by, some dressed for work, and others dressed casually, all looking as though they had a purpose. All except for me. I sigh. Maybe, skipping school hadn’t been such a great idea. It wasn’t what it was cut out to be. I’d imagined it to be exiting and fun, from what the group of loudly chattering sophomores had said. However, after the initial rush of exhilaration had passed by, I had been left feeling bored, and harboring the thought that all had been rather pointless. Turning, I prepare to sidle back to the lazy comfort of the couch, doomed to another two hours of waiting for my older sibling to come back from work and cook dinner. Oh, bother. Then, I’d have to explain why I was home a half-hour early and I hadn’t gotten the groceries after school ended, like my sister had asked me to. My head jerks upwards, as a blaring of car horns and the screeching of wounded tires on asphalt sounds in a sudden, unharmonious racket. Furthermore screams assault my ears, as well as a loud crash and the tinkling of shattering glass. I bolt back to the balcony, eager to see some excitement in my so far nondescript day. My eyes do not widen, as I stare at the scene. It is nothing special, really. A car had swerved in order to avoid hitting a woman walking in the middle of the rode. Even from the top floor of the 12 tiered apartment, I can hear the mixed garble of swearwords coming from the man who had gotten out of the car. I look closer. The man is shouting at the businesswoman, pointing and gesturing wildly at his ruined Honda. I think that the car was neither particularly expensive not particularly new, though clearly the man does not. Now that I take a closer look at the businesswoman, she looks a bit… off. I’m not that sure how to describe it. It could be the look of her rumpled, out of place clothing. Unusual for a businesswoman to look anything but ironed edges and pencil skirts. It could have been the way she walked, staggering like she had just woken up from a heavy sleep. It could have been the way she looked. Her skin was pale, almost bloodless looking and her makeup was smudged. Her eyes, which I had not noticed before were rolled up in the back of her head, only the red veins on white showing. I’m not sure why, but at that moment, I felt a sense of unease. It was a small thing, easily unnoticeable, but no less unforgettable. Almost like the feeling of winter’s fingers running up the back of my spine. I felt myself tense up, and I thought that it was completely illogical. No big deal! Just a weird businesswoman, who nearly got hit by a car. She could be in shock, no, she probably had some sort of illness. I was completely unprepared for what came next. The woman had been unsteadily making her way towards the swearing man (who at this point was practically hyperventilating). Her mouth opens, and I think that she is about to tell the man off for yelling obscenities at her. I can feel my breathing quicken. “AAAAARRGH!!!!!” the man’s scream was at an unnatural pitch, accompanied by the sound of cracking, grinding bone. The woman had lunged forwards, her blood-red mouth a stark contrast to her ashen skin and clamped her jaws onto the man’s shoulder. Crimson spurts into the air, the passerby’s low murmurings becoming startled gasps of disbelief. The man’s eyes are wide as saucers, his mouth open and gaping like a goldfish struggling for breath. At another time, I would’ve probably though that it was funny. Now, there isn’t anything remotely amusing about the scene. Even more apartment residents are running down the stairs and out, trying to get a closer look. My brain is in overdrive, trying to comprehend the situation. Oh. My. God. My thoughts aren’t getting through, my mind can’t process them. I feel a sense of almost detachment, as I watch the carnage unfold. For a moment, it feels like the world’s stopped turning. “AAAAAAAhhh!!!! NO!! No! GET AWAY!!!! NOOO!!!!” “God, SAVE ME!! PLEASE!!!!” “Help!! No!! IT HURTS!! IT HUURTS!!!!!!!” “WHAT THE ….?! THIS IS MESSED UP, THIS CAN’T BE FRIGGING HAPPENING!!” It feels like reality had just been sucked into a paper shredder. The remains float down, drifting like snow, collecting into a heap around my feet. The sound of the screams snap me back into reality. Suddenly, I am oh so aware of what is occurring right underneath my balcony. The street is hardly recognizable now. It looks almost like a writhing mosh pit of human bodies. Some still struggling, some in the throes of death. 98

Through a haze of confusion, I stare. It was happening exactly like a horror novel. Innocent citizens are attacked by horrible, evil, brain-eating, cannibalistic monsters while the main character sits there like a sitting duck, face etched in disbelief and shock just waiting for the hoard of monsters-in-the-closet to get ‘em. A thick rain is painting the sidewalk in red. A world away from graffiti in the subway tunnels. Slowly, almost too slowly, the screams are being cut off one by one. I can tell what is happening, even if I don’t want to believe. If what zombie movies say is the truth, then I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s going on right now. Zombies… unholy monsters, the living dead… and all that other shit that books go on and on about. Once bitten, you can never go back. Those thoughts swim through my head, as I dash away from the balcony and snatch up my schoolbag from where it lies discarded on the ground. Shaking out the schoolbooks and dumping them unceremoniously onto the floor (I probably won’t be needing them anymore.), I rush into the kitchen and start shoving packets of raisins, bags of chips, bottles of water and other bits and pieces of food into the bag in a fevered frenzy. I don’t bother to grab a jacket. Summer’s just started, and taking anything else would weigh me down. Now, I kick on my worn sneakers, ignoring the laces. My feet thud against the lacquered wooden floor as I race down the hallway. Suddenly, I stop and spin around. How dumb could I get? I can’t believe that I forgot! Well, actually, right now it feels like I’d be able to believe practically anything. I run back towards the kitchen, dragging out the utensil cupboard. I grab the first thing I can see, a shiny foot-long steak knife. It’s one-sided, metal edges tapering to a sharp point. It gleams dully; I can vaguely recall that my sister usually uses it to chop vegetables into chunks. I think that now, its purpose will be far more gristly. Scooting back out of the kitchen with knife in hand, my ears latch onto a new sound. Faintly, faintly, I can hear the soft, slow thuds of human (or maybe not) footsteps coming up the stairs to the apartment. A spark of hope ignites in me. Too bad that it’s instantly doused by a crushing sense of reality. A low moan sounds from behind the front door, which suddenly seems terribly flimsy to my eyes. Then, there is a noise that almost sounds like a knock upon the wooden door. Knock, knock, knock. The sound repeats, its tempo and velocity increasing. A cold current of fear engulfs me. For a moment, it’s hard to breathe. Inwardly, I am cursing myself for my lack of caution. Shoving the knife into the back of my bag, I grab a chair from the dining table in the room beside the hall, slamming the spindly metal thing against the now-shaking door. I swear that I can see the bolts shivering. My feet thud against the floor, instinctively carrying me towards the small balcony instead of one of the rooms. I’m not sure why myself. There is a loud crash. The door’s given in, and now low moans grow in volume. I can hear scrabbling in the hallway. My eyes light on the fire escape. I don’t hesitate, as I grab the rusted iron rail, my feet scrambling in their haste to climb up the narrow, rickety staircase. My apartment was one of the older ones, built in red brick and browning white plaster, equipped with a fire escape connecting from balcony to balcony. If there really had been a fire, the residents were expected to climb down the fire escape and to safety. Now, I’m doing the opposite because climbing down was pretty much the same as suicide. No time to think about it now. I can hear them coming down the hallway, blindly bumping against the walls. My fingers, groping for the next length of railing accidentally close around a smooth wooden pole. It’s a broomstick, leaning against the side of the fire escape. On impulse, I don’t throw it away. Half-formed thoughts idly paddle through my brain, wondering when the fire escape had last been checked for safety. And right then at that moment, my foot goes through a step. The jagged iron edges are cutting into my skin, drops of blood already welling up. Speak of the devil… I swear out loud. The flakes of rust rub off on my hands, staining them red. I pull my leg out of the gap, wincing when the metal teeth scrape my alreadywounded limb. I keep on scrambling up the fire escape. I can feel myself tiring, my breath is coming in short, sharp bursts, and my heart is working overtime. My muscles and tendons ache from the strain. I keep on climbing. Up, up, up, three flights, four, five. The thought of what lies behind me fuels my motivation. I don’t stop and keep on running. Until, finally, finally! I’ve reached the top of the building and it feels like everything’s going to be OK, like the world isn’t looking like it’s being overrun by the 99

undead, like I’d finally reached an oasis after long months in the desert, like— “Uuuughn…” the sound of moaning was floating from the stairs of the fire escape. I turn around and look down, only to catch sight of a zombie trip on the hole I’d unwittingly left behind on the staircase and tip over the railing. Its brief moment of free fall was ended in a loud splat on the hard, hard concrete sidewalk. Grey matter, and surprisingly little blood are splattered on the sidewalk. Eww… I think I just puked a bit inside. I sigh, as I take hold of the iron railings and try to pull them apart. If only zombies were keener on skydiving… No matter how hard I yank the rusted metal, it won’t come apart. I guess it figures, I don’t have superhuman strength so I shouldn’t expect to be able to bend iron with my arms alone. I give up, and run towards the other side of the roof. From the sound of the moans, I predict that it won’t take long for them to get here. My eyes are scanning the roof in desperation, even though I know there is no exit. Damn it! I’d practically jogged to my own death. This was just more than pathetic… there weren’t any options. I look over at the building next to mine. It’s a lower building, and the distance between the two seems phenomenal, at that moment. I estimate that it’s about 2 meters. Impossible… I could stay here and wait for the zombies to come, heck, I had a weapon and I might make it out alive. Or, I could jump off the building to my (almost) certain death. Then again… I begin to pace to roof, I can’t seem to stand still while I can hear the sounds of them climbing up the staircase. Left, right, left, right. I watch my feet move, my hands clenched into fists. I want to scream in frustration. To jump, or not to jump. Either way, I was as good as dead. I think I must have gone a bit mad just then, because I began to back up from the edge of the roof. The sound of slow footsteps hit the concrete. My nerves are jangling, nearly snapping from the strain. My mind hadn’t made itself up yet. Then my feet are already pounding against the grey stone, my head feels like it’s on fire. I can hear my heart thumping traitorously, proof of my life. It sounded frantic, fragile, like it could betray me any moment. I didn’t want to think about that. The rush of blood in my ears is suddenly deafening. The moans are louder now. I can feel them right behind me, the air is displaced by their flailing limbs. For a moment, I teeter on the edge. Stare into space with wide eyes. I’m so scared that I’m amazed myself. The anvil is in front of me, the hammer behind. And in that split second, I can feel my muscles tense, and then I’m jumping, into thin air. For a moment, it feels like I’m suspended, but then the moment passes and I can feel the weight of gravity dragging me down. A scream rips its way out of my throat. I’m scared, but not. Everything around me is so vibrant, like the highlights on colour photography. The sun is so bright it hurts to look at. And I’m wondering. Will I make it? The edge of the building, which seems so impossibly firm, and so impossibly far, it’s growing closer. Closer, and closer, until my foot hits the concrete with jarring impact. I wobble, my arms are flailing like windmills in a hurricane-force gale. I sway, and collapse onto the gratifyingly solid surface. I made it across… With my first victory in hand, my confidence grows and I feel slightly more reassured. Standing up, I look around me. Practically the same as the view from my old building. Just piles and piles of animated corpses. I resist the urge to let out a demented cackle (seriously, my mind feels unhinged. Even to me.), and prepare for my next leap into space. It probably isn’t safe to stay in one place for too long. The sound of my scream must’ve attracted more zombies already. Before I know it, I’m jumping again. Only this time, it’s much better than the first. I almost feel a sense of freedom, bouncing around the tops of buildings like a demented Bugs Bunny. I’ve been jumping and running for nearly an hour now. I can tell from the numerals on my wristwatch, and by the strain that my body feels. I stop on top of the latest building to take a breather. Ripping the top of the bag open, I practically inhale the bag of chips. It feels almost normal now, running from the undead. I still haven’t used the knife stashed in my bag, and I don’t want to ever have to. “Aaugh…” Oops. Looks like I lingered too long. And then, I’m crossing the roof in large steps, backing up, running forwards. It feels like I’ve been doing this for my entire life. Then right before I jump, I catch sight of a 100

tearstained face, white with fear. A face that does not belong to a corpse. A living human. My brain takes it all in in a flash. It’s the first living person I’ve seen so far other than myself. It’s a girl, who looks about 10. She’s clinging onto the drainpipe at the side of the building. Beneath her is a sea of the living dead. Vaguely, I’m wondering how there could be so many of them so fast. Still, it is all routine in zombie movies. Cliché, normal. Instead of jumping like I should, the protagonist drops onto their stomach and reaches out a hand for the terrified girl. And line for line, that’s what I do. I stretch my arm towards her, fingers straining. She sees, and reaches up. My hand grabs onto hers, and a feeling of relief breaks out in my chest. It’s going to be alright. I heave, pulling the girl up. Then, her eyes widen in a sudden fear. I look down. Down down down, and there is a bloodless hand clamped about her ankle. Teeth are ripping into her leg; the amount of blood is astounding. She doesn’t scream. I think she can see it reflected in my eyes, this is the end for her. Instead, she lets go of my hand, and she falls. Falls soundlessly. She still doesn’t scream. I can’t, I don’t stay to watch her being torn to pieces. Turning, I freeze as I feel a cold, cold grip on my shoulder. I’d been too slow. I think I’ve learned how it is to be like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf. Though this was more like the high school freshman caught in the grip of a flesh-eating zombie. I was a fool to think I could have made it out. The thing lunges at me, mouth open and snapping like a canine infected with rabies. Though honestly, this thing doesn’t even deserve to be associated with dogs. In my vision, its face seems to be blurred and melted like wax held near a candle flame. I think that this was probably a good thing. Reflexively, my own hand shoots forward and clamps around the throat of the corpse, anything to keep its gaping, salivated teeth away from my face. My mouth opens, and I’m screaming and yelling and cursing more than I thought I ever could. I’m drowning in terror. I look. Stare into unseeing eyes, the feel of the zombie’s skin is cold and moist, like raw meat. It’s disgusting, horrifying. I didn’t want to die. My other hand reaches behind me, into the bag where it gropes frantically. The zombie is pushing against my arm with inhuman strength, if it was living, then it would’ve choked itself against my hold ages ago. My hand finally, finally! Grasps the plastic handle of the steak knife that I’d taken from my kitchen, hoping to never use, what seems to be so long ago. Now I know. Hope is way overrated, as I bring my hand forwards in a vicious motion. It sinks in with a sharp, smooth feel, the sound like the “thunk!” of a butcher’s cleaver into meat. The knife is covered with gore up to the handle, the dark, already-congealing blood and bits of grey matter splatter onto my hand. It feels sticky, and cold. The stench is unbelievable. Still, the corpse’s death-grasp on my shoulder doesn’t slacken, so I am forced to pry the unfeeling fingers away. I feel almost a sense of cold detachment, as I pick up my broomstick from the roof where I’d previously dropped it in the struggle for my life. I’d done it to save myself. I almost think that I should care more, but I don’t. It’s a strange, foreign feeling. One that I felt like I’d get used to quickly. I take the jump that I seem to have only postponed. My feet are gripping the solid concrete, and I don’t look back. Because if I do, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep on going anymore. Who was I kidding? “Everything’s going to be OK”? I’m such a retard for thinking such naïve thoughts. I feel like hitting myself for my stupidity. Who did I think I was? God? Could I save the entire world? There’s more chance of honest politicians existing than me turning out to be the next superhero in disguise. Afterwards, I still feel shaken, an inexplicable sense of loss. It was illogical to feel this guilt, because I’d barely known the girl. I didn’t even know her name. I think that it is probably because I’d wanted some human company, something to show that I wasn’t the only person who’d remained sane during this entire, living nightmare. As the cogs of my mind turn, my body goes on autopilot, still moving, fleeing, running. As I cross over to the edge of the latest building, I have to fight to keep a wave of nausea from overwhelming me. The sight of the streets is practically the image of hell on earth. If I close my eyes (only I don’t. I can’t.), I can almost imagine that the bloodstains on the reflective shop windows, the overturned hotdog stand, the smell of rotting meat and ejected bowels doesn’t exist. That I can’t see the undead corpse of a man tear off a strip of raw flesh from a freshly dismembered body, the organs glistening in the sun. 101

The streets are marked with splatters of drying blood. There are animals running this way and that, barking, meowing, crying to owners who aren’t there anymore. Torn-off limbs and strings of entrails are strewn over the sidewalk, the scene looking bizarrely like a giant child’s play set. Dolls lie haphazardly in abstract shapes, bodies twisted, crumpled in fall. There is only one difference. Toys can be broken and fixed, dolls can be taken apart and put back together. This play set is irreparably shattered, in almost all aspects. I step away, preparing for another jump. I back up, then run forwards and fling myself towards the other building. Closer, closer, I can see the nearing edge. “Clang!” I feel the impact jar my foot, as it hits a previously unnoticed gargoyle statue off the side of the building. My forward momentum stops. And then, I’m tumbling down. My hands flail desperately for purchase on the far edge of the other building, but it’s useless. I’m falling, falling, just like the girl. The girl I’d failed to save, the girl whose name I hadn’t known. This might just be my punishment for letting her fall. Now I’m falling myself. In movies that I’ve seen, books I’ve read, they almost always describe the moment before death as an enlightening experience. I can even imagine it. “As the protagonist falls, drops into space, their life flashes before their eyes in sequences starting with childhood.” Well, I can tell you right now that the whole “reliving your life” thing is absolute crap. How do I know? That’s ‘cause right now the only thoughts running through my head other than “holy shit, I’m going to die in such a lame way,” is the sound of my own scream. I think I must be drawing all the zombies for miles and miles around like iron filling to a magnet. “Whump!” I swear I can hear a crack as a sharp pain spikes in my side. I think that was probably a rib. Ironic, how the elaborate stone flanges on the sides of the damned building tripped me, and then save me. I’d hit one of the wider ledges farther down the building. I try to gain a hold on the hard, speckled granite, my fingers scraping against the stone, drawing blood. I’m trying not to think of how gross it is that I’m probably rolling around over layers of old, dried bird-shit. Not a nice thought to have for the last moments of your life. Strange, my grip on the broom handle still hasn’t slackened. I stretch out my limbs, seeking for support. My arms and legs are banging against the sides of the building, leaving painful bloody scrapes across my skin, but I don’t care. Something, anything, to slow down this freefall to my horrific (not to mention messy) death. Too bad “something” didn’t apply to a heap of trash bags. “THUMP!” the impact jars my bones. Now, my side feels like it’s on fire. I resist the urge to yell as I feel something skitter across my face, no doubt disturbed from whatever nasty thing it had been doing before by my not-so-spectacular landing in a trash heap. Funny, I can feel each and every single one of my scrapes though a few seconds before, I’d hardly noticed. Almost jumping up in my haste to get the hell out of the pile of black, evil-smelling garbage bags, I scan my surroundings. Oh, crap. Apparently, my guess had been correct. What looked like a whole herd (is that the correct term?) of zombies were slowly shuffling towards me, hands outstretched in that stupid posture that didn’t deserve a place in any decent horror movie. Crap. There I go again. If I lived through all this, I’d probably have to listen to my sister natter my ear off about use of improper language, not to mention my teachers. I’d probably never sworn as much in a month compared to this one day. I straighten up, wincing at just how much my rib hurt. From my surroundings, it’s pretty obvious that I’m in a back alleyway. Duh, what kind of decent city would have bags of trash lying randomly on the street? The zombies move even closer, I realize the full extent of the situation. I’m in an alleyway. It’s a dead end. There is no escape. I’d practically fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire. Though the more correct term was off of an apartment building, and into a back alleyway filled with zombies. This sucked. Karma really, really hates me today. I reach behind me into my bag (which had miraculously remained whole through my sad attempt at falling more slowly off of a building) for my knife, only to be hit with the urge to do a face palm as I recall my stupidity. I’d left the knife stuck in the head of a dead body! And that’s going to help a lot now! No use getting angry at myself. I grip the 102

broomstick in both hands. I’m thinking that if I had to die, I’d at least go down with a fight. At the same time, I’m inwardly cringing at how lame that sounds. So, I rush forwards toward the rows of the undead, a yell of desperation and fear clawing out of my throat. I’m a cornered animal, preparing for its last stand. The first zombie comes into view, decayed and greying, no prettier than any I’d seen before. I swing the broomstick forwards, and it causes a noticeable dent in the zombie’s skull. Sticky globs are sliding down the handle, but there isn’t time to worry about personal hygiene now. The next head comes into view. The handle of the broom slams into it with sickening force, and this time I can hear and audible crack. It doesn’t look like the broomstick will last much longer now. And I’m right. With the next skull I bash in, the broomstick snaps from the strain. It doesn’t deter me. The same cold confidence I’d had when I’d killed the first one was back now. Maybe this was how a person felt when they could see their own death. I was immune to the splatter of blood on my already filth-stained clothes, immune to feelings and thoughts. The only thing that I could comprehend were the enemies in front of me and the earth, firm beneath my feet. I stab the broken, splintered end of the broomstick into the eye socket of a zombie. Thick, opaque fluid gushes out. I’m marvelling at how easy it all was. And that was when quick as the changing of scores in a soccer game, with a single goal, the positions are reversed. A zombie grabs onto the end of my battered weapon, and yanks it from my grasp. I’m even faintly impressed. I didn’t know that they could do that, and now I’d pay the price for my mistake. Pay the price for abandoning the girl. Pay for my sins. I want to close my eyes, really, terribly badly. But I don’t. Maybe it’s because I’ve heard that a person should stare death in the face. Well, right now, I’m staring a zombie in the face, and I doubt it can see me staring. Now I’m keeping my eyes open with sheer will. My hands are clenched, nails digging into my palms. My posture is relaxed. This is it. After all that running, this is the end. The zombie lunges forwards. My eyes remain wide open. And that’s when I hear the gunshot. The zombie whom had been lunging at me seconds ago crumples onto me. Bemused, I push its heavy body off of me. “Don’t just stand here staring!” a voice blares into my senses. “Get a move on it! I saved ya so the least you can do is be useful.” I look up and into the eyes of a boy. He’s older than me, I’m guessing sixteen or seventeen. In his hand is a pistol, and I’m wondering where the heck he got that. But then again, I should know. After all, New York is famous for its wide range of citizens, and wider range of illegal practices. He grabs my arm and starts to run. I follow blindly, swerving around sharp corners and bulky trashcans until we finally emerge out of the alleyway and into the sun. In my chest, I feel a deep sense of relief. Finally, finally, someone else, someone more capable then I was in charge. The boy’s grip on my arm slackens, as his eyes light on a BMW, with relatively few bloodstains and doors wide open. I run after him, trying to ignore the now throbbing pain in my side. He slides in front of the steering wheel, I climb more awkwardly into the shotgun seat. At another time, I might have been exited to sit in front. My eternally nagging sibling was convinced that it would lead to my death someday. And today, maybe it will. But at the moment, I really didn’t care. Looks like luck’s finally turned around, the keys are still in the car. The boy beside me turns them, then shifts the gear into forward with a controlled sense of urgency. Neither of us speak. The zombies are crowding around the car now, no doubt attracted to the sound of the engine. There is what looks like a slightly unhinged grin on the young man’s face as he smashes his foot onto the gas pedal. “Smack!” a dismembered arm splats against the windshield. I can hear the crunching of bones as we go, 100, 200, 300 mph over a gaggle of corpses, a trail of inanimate bodies. The boy is laughing now, though really, I think it’d be more appropriate to scream. The wind is howling against my face, my hair is blown back by the air. There is a rising sense of exhilaration in me, almost a sense of happiness. A beeping suddenly sounds. Both of our heads turn, towards the blinking light of the fuel gauge. There is less than a gallon left, not unexpected at the speed we’d been going. He spins the wheel around, and I am helpless only to watch. We’re getting closer and closer to a building coated in shiny glass. Closer now, I can see the large billboards advertising brands of clothing and the different logos of restaurants, it’s a mall. Closer even by the second, until I can see our reflections on the 103

sleek surface. Oh, God, he’s not going to— “CRASH!” and in a rain of silver shards, my fears are proven correct. The fuel gauge beeps one last time, and the red light goes out. The rumblings of the car cease, and we’re climbing out of the smooth leather seats. As soon as our feet hit the ground, we start to run. The boy throws an aluminum baseball bat at me, that I hadn’t seen him carrying before. I barely manage to catch it, fumbling a bit in my grasp. The sound of undead feet and the moans are growing. More and more zombies inside of the mall are turning from their pointless wandering-and-bumping-into-walls to pursue us instead. I force myself to keep on running. Past a fountain, coins still glinting at the tiled bottom, water stained with red. Past racks and racks of clothing, the blood splattered but otherwise clean tables and chairs of the food court. We keep right on running without a word between us, taking the paths with the fewest zombies. All the while, the sound of pursuit is growing. We run straight through a supermarket, to the other side, dodging unmanned shopping carts and occasionally whacking the odd zombie that just happened to be in the way. The bat works more efficiently than the broomstick, it gives a rather satisfying ‘thunk’ as it thuds into the skulls of brain-dead zombies. Better yet, it still hasn’t broken. We’ve cleared the supermarket now, and we’re back to marble floors and designer brands. No matter where I look, the amount of zombies doesn’t seem to be getting smaller. In fact, there are more than I have ever seen in one place. I can see the boy looking around, scanning the mall for a solution to our problem. I’m doing the same. He changes course, and pants “This way!” and I follow, because there’s nothing else I can do. We’re heading towards an elevator. If we could get up high enough, then we’d be able to barricade a floor and try to live off the supplies in the shopping mall. Zombies, with their rotting flesh and decomposing muscles probably couldn’t climb very well. It had better be right, because we were betting our lives on it. We sprint towards the elevator, a hoard of the undead behind. Finally, we reach it and the young man slams on the buttons as if his life depended on it. Actually, it did. So did mine. He curses, and I do too when the elevator remains cold and unmoving. The power’s shut down. The magnitude of the situation suddenly grips me. I turn around, and I cannot stifle the gasp that bursts out. He turns too, and then he can see what I see. What is that? It’s what looks like hundreds of decomposing marionettes, advancing, advancing, advancing towards us. Even better. It was a dead end. The elevator was located at the end of the wide hall, there was no way out. We really had betted everything on the elevator working. Now was really not a good time to discover my terrible luck in gambling. The boy beside me pulls out a cartridge of bullets, slotting it into his gun. I reverse my grip on the bat. He doesn’t wait for a signal, just starts shooting. “BANG! BANG! BANG!” He is surprisingly accurate. 3 down. A mountain more to go. At the sound of the gunshots, the zombies come faster. There really is no way out of this situation. The young man swears. He can see the hopelessness of this as much as I can. When he runs out of bullets, he throws the gun away, pulling out what looks like a long wrench from his belt. The zombies are within 2 meters now. I swing with the bat, blatantly ignoring the ache in my arms and the sting of pain that my ribcage gives. “Wham!” my first zombie down now. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the boy doing the same. Long minutes pass, the bodies begin to pile up, hindering movement. Still, they are coming. I’m seriously beginning to wonder if there’s an end to all this. Then, the young man begins to speak after so long. “I’m not going to apologise for dragging you into this mess. I saved your ass, after all. I’m telling you right now, that I’m about to do something drastic. I recommend you hit the ground. Now.” I’m not doing it because he’s ordering me to. I’m not doing it because I trust him. I drop to the ground because I believed what he said about doing something drastic. My eyes widen as I see him pull an oval shape from his jacket pocket. He rips out the cord with his teeth and almost casually tosses it in the midst of the hoard. The resulting explosion nearly blows my eardrums out. I can feel the breeze ruffle my hair, and I’m guessing that the few remaining clean spots on my shirt are gone, thanks to the light shower of blown-up zombie bits. I look up, and I see that there is an almost perfectly symmetrical circle marking the spot of the detonation. I can see zombies struggling to rise with their charred bodies, failing, and 104

falling to the ground. I glance towards the direction of the boy. I guessed that he’d have enough sense to duck when he himself threw a grenade, but then again, I couldn’t be sure. He was sitting on the ground against the broken elevator, head bent. There was something wrong. I saw from the slump of his shoulders, the unnatural paleness of his skin. Then, he lifts his head and turns to grin at me. “That was fun.” I can tell from the hollowness in his eyes. They are glazed over, and it scares me when I see. Wordlessly, he rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. There are a set of bite marks on his arm, still oozing blood. The wound looks like its already festering; there is an unhealthy yellow tinge to the skin near the wound. Wryly, he smirks. He knows the implication of that wound as well as I do, probably even better. “Hey, kid.” I don’t even bristle and being called a child like I normally would. “Do me one last favour for saving your ass twice now, would you?” I nod wordlessly. “Kill me. Smash my head in with that bat. Before I become one of them. You’d have to kill me either way.” I pick up the bat. Unflinchingly, I lift it, angling it behind my shoulder like I’ve always done playing baseball. He is staring back at me with those empty eyes. I swing forwards… and stop, just before impact. “What, you don’t have the guts to kill me now?” the boy chuckles, before he is interrupted by a hacking cough. Blood stains his shirt. “No.” I reply. My tone is calm. “I’ll do it. But first, tell me your name.” “Fine.” He says. “My name’s _________.” “It’s nice to meet you. I’ll remember your name.” this time when the bat swings forward, it doesn’t stop. The blood is still warm. Flowing, dripping down my face. It leaks into my eyes, and now I can see the world through a haze of red. I gasp, and I’m panting like I’ve just run a thousand mile marathon. I sit up, and look hurriedly around, my eyes wild. I’m on the ratty yellow couch of my apartment. Everything is as it should be. The clock is ticking quietly away in the corner. I can hear the sounds of the city from outside. I jump up and flat out run towards the balcony. I lean so hard over it, that I nearly tip out. Everything is normal. So normal, that it almost frightens me. That’s right… it had been a dream. I want to slap myself at my own silliness. Of course it hadn’t been real. Zombies don’t exist. All of that never happened, even if the dream was vivid enough. Gasping, my hands go to my side. The pain is gone, and so are my other scrapes. If that is not proof enough, what is? Smiling lightly, yet still not completely able to get the images of carnage out of my mind, I turn and head back into the apartment at a more casual pace. I take a deep breath of the afternoon air. My ears catch a hint of a sound, almost like a warning. Whispering teasingly, mockingly on the wind. It is the far off wail of sirens.

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The End

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