2019 Youth Short Stories

1st PLACE

Across the Page

by Helena Cirian

I stepped through the thick piles of dust, covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve as I went. “Grandmother?” I called cautiously, then started to cough. “Oh, I really don’t want to do this.” I muttered to myself, looking sideways at the stairs beside me. They were the stairs which led to the attic, a place I had yet to venture, even after staying with my grandparents for three weeks now. Their old house was full of dust and dirt, as if it hadn’t been cleaned in years.

“Alright.” I rolled up my sleeves, unsure of why but feeling as if it was the right thing to do, and started upstairs. The attic’s stairway was unusually clear of dust, but rather ominous all the same. I ran up the last three stairs at top speed, then crouching at the top, ready for whatever faced me.

The old wooden walls seemed to lean in, the sole window casting the room in golden light, visible through the air from the swirling dust.

Something caught my eye from the corner, and I whipped around to see a colossal, floor length mirror pinned to the wall. It was gorgeous, however old, its heavy brass frame still glinting in the afternoon sunlight, its surface clear of fractures.

“Wow.” I breathed, not quite daring to go any closer. After a moment of staring at it, I turned away.

“Cassy?” I jumped completely off the floor, knocking old clothes left and right before I recognized the voice.

“Grandmother!” I yelped, clutching at my racing heart. “You startled me!” “Not nearly as much as you startled me!” She said, chuckling at my bewildered face. “I thought you were too afraid to come up here.” “I wasn’t afraid.” I said, drawing myself up importantly. “Where did you come from, anyways? I would’ve noticed you.”

“I still have a few secrets up my sleeve, Cassy.” Grandmother smiled. “What have you been looking at up here?”

“Well, that huge mirror over there is amazing! Where did you get it?” Grandmother looked at the mirror fondly. “That mirror has been in this house ever since anyone here can remember. No one has ever been able to get it off of this wall, so it’s been left here. I heard it was from the first occupants of this house. “Legend has it,” She continued. “That if you stand in front of this mirror with writing book and a pencil, you will be transported to another reality.” I started, blinking in disbelief.

“I didn’t realize other realities actually existed!” I said. “Of course they do, Cassy! Every time you make a choice, another reality branches off, showing the choice and the path you might have taken!”

“Wow! And through this mirror, you can see those?” Grandmother laughed. “Now don’t get ahead of yourself. I tried that, standing in front of this mirror. Nothing happened, of course.” I didn’t respond, too caught up in my own thoughts. “Cassy.” I looked up. “You’re just like me, unable to stay away from these sorts of things. Just don’t try too hard and be careful.”

This was one of the many reasons I loved Grandmother. She knew I would never be comfortable just letting something like this go. I had to try to make the mirror work for me.

“Cassy, help me down the stairs, please.” I looked away from the mirror and hurried over to Grandmother, taking her arm.

When we were downstairs, Grandmother collapsed in an armchair. “Are you alright?” I asked, worry taking over my thoughts about the mirror. “I’m fine. Just the age catching up with me. Go on, now. I can see you’re dying to have a crack at that mirror.” I smiled and turned away.

I wandered to the supply closet, grabbing a small pad of writing paper, then picked out my favorite writing pencil.

Then I went to the attic stairs. This time, I didn’t hesitate, climbing the steep stairway quickly. By the time I stood in front of the mirror again, I was full of impatience. I clutched the pencil and paper is my hands.

“Er- do something!” I said, unsure of what to do. Nothing happened. I contemplated the mirror with annoyance, then smiled. “Please?” I asked, hoping that my parent’s lessons of kindness were the way to go in this case. Again, nothing.

I stared at the mirror hard, not so much looking at the reflective surface as I observed the frame. It was even more intricate up close, swirls of brassy metal curling around the edges, making a pattern of a golden ocean. The crests of the waves overlapped the glass, making an irregular shape.

Finally, after trying multiple other commands and combinations of the two objects, I sat down. The light outside was red now, casting the attic in a strange glow.

I had long past the point of aggravation at the mirror, I had now been just looking at it for hours. It gave me a strange feeling of peace, and I had no problems with staying where I was for the remainder of my time here. The light slowly faded, and the sky outside turned a deep blue, then black. Only then I got to my feet, not to leave, but to light the candles in the attic. While I was fumbling with the matches, I chanced upon a clock, miraculously set to the right time. 8:43. I picked up the clock and moved back to the mirror, which now reflected sparks of light from the candles.

As the night wore on, I progressively moved closer to the mirror, eventually ending up with my back resting against it, still holding the pencil and paper. Checking the clock once again, 9:56, I stretched, leaning forwards, then back, but I kept falling, the mirror no longer solid behind me, into empty space.

What felt like a few seconds later, my vision cleared, to see… the attic. Except it was wrong. The room was neat, carpeted, and filled with light from lamps on the walls, and a silver chandelier hung from the ceiling.

“What the-?” I started, jumping to my feet and turning around. The mirror was still there, but it was framed in a sharper silver, the edges sharp and unforgiving. “Casianna?” A voice said behind me. “Cassy.” I said, out of habit, turning around. “Er- you haven’t gone by Cassy in years.” A boy who must have been a few years younger than me, with my same dark brown curls and grey eyes, was staring at me, looking puzzled.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I hate my full name. Who are you, anyways, and how do you know my name?”

“Are you feeling alright? I’m your brother.” I gaped at him. “Did you get a concussion?” “I don’t have a brother!” I cried. “Alright. You definitely have a concussion. Let’s get you to the Healer’s.” He stepped forwards and took my hand.

Completely bewildered, and bordering on shock, I turned on the boy. “Look! I have no idea who you are, and I don’t have a brother! The last thing I remember, I was leaning against the mirror in Grandmother’s attic. Where am I?”

The boy hesitated for a moment, then said cautiously, “You’re Casianna alright… but perhaps not my Casianna.” He offered me his hand. “I’m Collin. Have you ever heard anything about this mirror?”

“I- I heard it could- oh! Grandmother said it could take you to another reality! Are youare you from a different reality?” I asked, my voice stuttering with newfound excitement.

“I’m starting to become convinced that that’s right. You’re her, but different.” He stopped, suddenly looking concerned. “Wait, are you telling me that I don’t exist in your reality?”

I cast him a withering look. “I just crossed realities, breaking who knows how many rules of science, and you’re worried about that?” Collin looked injured. “Well aren’t you wondering who Casianna is here?” “Of course! Where is she, anyways?” “I’m pretty sure she’s downstairs, working. As usual.” He rolled his eyes. “Working?” I asked curiously. “On her newspaper. She’s operating the only non-controlled paper business in the city now.”

“What?” “The war- oh no!” His explanation was cut off by a siren cutting through the night. It was one I had never heard before, an eerie wailing that rose and fell in volume. It was followed, barely a second later, by a thunderous explosion nearby. It shook the house to the point where objects were falling around us. All I could see out of the window was fire.

“What’s happening?” I cried, catching Collin’s arm as he stumbled. “The war!” He bellowed in my ear over the sound of more explosions nearby. “They’re bombing the capital!” I stiffened.

“We need to get downstairs!” I pulled Collin upright and dragged him to the stairs, where he took the railing thankfully, letting it support him as he went.

The whole house was in a state of chaos, there was broken glass everywhere, as well as an assortment of items scattered through the rooms.

“Collin!” A familiar voice yelled through the din. “Collin, where are you?” A girl appeared out of the haze of stirred up dust. It was evident who she was. It was this reality’s Casianna, limping towards us, coughing.

“Casianna!” Collin shouted, breaking away from me and running to her, throwing an arm across her shoulder to support her.

Are you alright?” She wheezed. “Yes! I never thought they would bomb the capital- who is this?” She had noticed me, her eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. “Who are you?” “It’s alright!” Collin said, pulling at her sleeve. “She can be trusted! Besides, she’s you!” That stopped Casianna where she stood, now only a few paces from me. “She’s… me?” “Yes! She came through the mirror. She’s you, from another reality.” Casianna turned her gaze to Collin, staring at him intently. “Are you sure she is trustworthy?” “Yes.” “Then we have bigger things to worry about. You- me-whatever. Come over here!” I moved towards them, picking my way through the debris.

“What’s going on?” I asked them. “Do we need to leave?” “Of course not.” Casianna sniffed disdainfully. “We’re not going anywhere. We need to finish the paper for tomorrow in time to print. We’ll have to do it here.”

“What?” I gasped. “They’re bombing us! We have to leave.” Casianna turned her hard gaze on me.

“Nowhere is safe right now. We have to do what we can to help our country in this horrible war.” I looked at her closely, seeing details that were very different to me. Her dark hair was cut short and ragged, and a long, terrible scar ran through the leg she was limping on. “You’ve fought in the war!” I realized. Casianna turned her face away. Collin said quietly from beside her, “She was sent home from the war front because of her injuries. The scar and her breathing problems.”

“Come on.” Casianna said roughly. “We have a lot to do.” She led both of us to what would be the dining room in Grandmother’s house, but seemed to be a improvised writing studio, complete with a printing press.

Do you have pen and paper?” She asked me. “Yes.” I said, remembering the supplies I had brought. Flying upstairs, grabbing the pencil and paper, then running back down, I sat at the desk Casianna offered. “Can you write?” “Of course!” I had been writing since I was little. “Then start on tonight’s story. Here’s the background facts: We’re in a war, our country is accused of killing the heir to the throne of the opposing kingdom, which we didn’t, and they’ve been threatening to burn our city for the three years since the war started. Good luck, and hurry.”

She left me blinking in confusion, struggling to process the information which Casianna had dropped on my head without a second thought.

After a few seconds, I laid my pencil to the paper and started writing, thinking ahead as I went. The story flew smoothly off my pencil, I didn’t have to worry about the wording, I could just write. Then, not even fifty minutes later, I was finished.

“Here.” I brought the story to Casianna, who took it, reading critically in her scarred hands.

3rd PLACE

Love in Color

by Emma Bennett

Don’t determine the amount of love by the colors you see. It was a daily reminder for Jess. Sometimes she slipped and thought that nobody truly loved her due to her whole life being a black and white coloring book waiting for someone to find the crayon box. She had to remind herself that she will eventually find true love and finally be able to see color. Jess wished she could see color though because that would make her job as a photographer a lot easier.

She walked out of her apartment door ready to go to Odette and Sam’s bakery. Jess had been there twice that week already, but it was her favorite spot in town. They described to her the painted walls that were a deep and bright purple with the tables every color of the rainbow. The goal of the old, married couple was to make it as vivid and colorful as possible so when you can finally see color, the whole room lights up. When Jess first moved to the town in Georgia, she asked them what made them decide to open up a bakery like this. Odette said she loved watching people come in for the first time since they met their true love because they couldn’t stop looking around at everything.

She walked in and Sam came around the corner to give her a big hug and complimentary cup of coffee. Jess grabbed the cup and sat down at a table with her laptop to work on some photos she had taken during her beach trip the week before. The pictures were mostly of her friends- she was rarely in them. Not because of anything, but it seemed easier to take pictures and not have to worry about how you look or if the poses and outfits will look okay. She only stayed for a couple of hours before heading home. A lot of Jess’ days were similar in routine with her visiting the bakery a lot to work on editing pictures. When she got home she let her friends know that the pictures were almost done and then she fell asleep.

Jess woke up to a seemingly normal day and remembered the eventful morning she had ahead of her. A family she met at the bakery asked if she could take their pictures on the top of Roseway Mountain. She hadn’t done family pictures in awhile and they had always been harder for her to do, but she still enjoyed them. Her favorite part was going to do these pictures somewhere cool, like a mountain top, and watching the parents explain to the kids what all of the colors looked like. She longed for that to be her someday, but she wasn’t sure if it ever would be.

She met up with the family and headed up the mountain. They had two little girls- Jess guessed they were around 6 and 9. As they walked up the mountain, the girls pointed out every animal they saw and asked what color it was. They were adorable and didn’t complain on the journey to the mountain side. Once they got there, it didn’t take long for them to become comfortable around the camera and let their true colors show. The sisters were giggling and shielding their eyes as Jess snapped a picture of the parents kissing. Doing shoots like these reminded her of why she started doing family pictures in the first place.

They stayed up on the mountain top a little longer than Jess to let the girls play for a little longer. She headed back to her car with a smile thinking about the family and how happy they were. She hoped that someday in the future that could be her, having someone love her that much. The sun was beaming off of her white Honda CR-V and the wind was picking up just enough to make the branches move gently. As she was walking she looked over and saw a black Jeep. Jess rolled her eyes knowing that wouldn’t be the last Jeep she saw that day. Jeeps are everywhere and everyone who owns one acts the same. Preppy. She heard the beeping of her car unlocking and laughed “At least I don’t have a preppy Jeep like every other trust-fund kid.” “Hey I might have a Jeep, but I’m definitely not a trust-fund kid.” The voice behind her came from the owner of the Jeep, a twenty-four year old guy who had sun kissed skin like Jess and messy hair.

“Are you sure about that?” As soon as Jess turned around, her eyes were met with the tall stranger’s caramel colored eyes. When she looked at him her whole world changed. Suddenly the flowers and afternoon skyline were filled with colors that she had only dreamed of seeing. Amazed at what she could see, she looked back at the man standing in front of her who looked just as electrified as she did. They stood there for a moment, taking it all in. “Wow,” Jess finally said, “this is crazy beautiful.” “Wait so this means we’re, what, soulmates?” “That term is so overused, but yeah I guess so.” They continued to talk for a while in the parking lot and eventually decided to drive to Odette and Sam’s bakery to continue talking and finally be able to see the color of the walls and all the desserts.

When they got there Jess couldn’t believe what she saw. Odette and Sam watched as her eyes danced across the walls and tables of the bakery. The guy she had met earlier introduced himself as Dean. They sat down at a sea-green table that matched Jess’ eyes and hadn’t paid much attention to one another since arriving. Jess finally tried to start talking to him again, but when she looked across the table, he was busy on his phone, not paying attention to her or the bakery decorations that he could finally see. She continued to try to get to know him more, but he continued to be more interested in his phone than the girl who was supposedly his true love. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was on his phone when she called him out. “Uhh hello? I’m sorry, am I boring you?” “What? No I um… I heard you talk about your age.” He scratched the back of his head and squinting his eyes, hoping that even that part was correct.

“Okay never mind. This was a waste of my time I shou-“ “No seriously, I’m sorry. Look, why don’t you restart and I’ll pay attention this time.” He smirked at her. Jess had taken notice to the smirking; he did it every time he was rude or made a smart comment and tried to fix it. It was like his shield from not getting in trouble. Other girls probably fell for it, the dimples and the perfect teeth trying to fix his mistake. It was a gorgeous smile that almost worked, before she snapped out of it.

“Dean, I’m sorry, we may be ‘soulmates,’ but I don’t really know if I want one anymore. I can’t be around someone who doesn’t know how to pay attention and then tries to correct it with his smile. It just won’t work, so there’s the door.” She said as she stood up and nodded towards the front door, finally seeing that it was dark brown with a red and blue open/closed sign.

“Ouch! You know, I think you caught onto my secret. The smile that everyone falls for… except for you. You think you can see right through me, you think that I’m a shallow jerk that uses his looks to get what he wants.”

“Yeah I think you covered it. Let’s see, shallow, jerk, smirking, egomaniac. Yep you got them all, but wow I’m surprised you managed to remember them all.”

The bickering went on for quite some time before Odette distracted them with red velvet cupcakes that were freshly made. After a much needed cool-off break, they recollected themselves and started over, this time Dean paying attention and Jess not snapping at him. As they got to know each other, they slowly began to understand why they were meant for each other. They talked until closing time and ended up planning to meet again later that week.

- - - - -

As Jess was walking down the street, she glanced over at Miss Emily’s flower cart. Cherry blossoms - her favorite type of flower - were arranged beautifully in front of the cart. She loved seeing them everyday because she could see the rainbow that filled the cart. Jess was about to walk across the street to buy a bouquet to replace the dying one in her apartment, but she stopped suddenly having to look twice at the flowers. The bubblegum pink cherry blossoms were no longer pink, but slowly fading to a deep gray. After a split second, it came back and then continued to switch between life and death while Jess stood there unable to look away. She watched hoping that the pink would stay, but eventually it had gone on too long. Her feet started running before she could figure out where she was going. She assumed her legs were taking her home to, hopefully, find Dean.

She ran into her apartment yelling for Dean. Looking in every room and running through every doorway of the apartment, she searched everywhere and found nothing. Her face was drenched in tears and sweat as she ran looking for him. She stopped in the middle of her living room and frantically pulled out her phone to call him. She messily moved the tear drenched hair out of her face and wiped her eyes. She looked around as her phone rang and it seemed as if her emotions had been sprawled out in front of her. Door were open, a vase had been knocked over, and everything was black and white. Someone else answered his phone and in one swift motion, she fell to her knees and her hand hit the ground trying to catch herself. “This is Nurse Nevin.”

“No, no, n-no no. Where is he? Is he okay?” “Who is this? I can only release information to family.” “This is his girlfriend. Where is he?!” “He’s currently in emergency surgery here at Chastain Park Memorial Hospital. Any other information will have to be given in person, I’m sorry.”

Once again, Jess wasn’t thinking before she started running. This time out the door, down the stairs, and into her car headed to Chastain. The road was blurred and she wasn’t sure how fast she was going. When she got there, she tried to get any information that she could, but nobody would give her anything because she wasn’t family. Then a doctor introduced himself as Conrad and took her aside. He explained that he was in the emergency room when Dean was brought in and jumped on the case. He is currently in surgery and probably wouldn’t be out for another hour. She looked around trying to wrap her head around what she was told. The nurse who was on the phone came up and said that she just checked and surgery is going well so far. Jess shakily sighed as she asked the inevitable question, “So, um, wh-what actually happened to him?”

“We aren’t exactly sure how everything went down but it sounds like someone came into his office building with a gun and just started shooting. Dean was shot in the side right below his rib cage, the bullet missed anything too serious, but they still had to stop any internal bleeding and get the bullet out. He’s had to be resuscitated twice so far from losing too much blood, however it looks like they’ve got it under control now.”

Jess stayed in the waiting room all night wondering when she would get to see him. There was the slightest hint of color around her as Dean clung on to life down the hallway. Around ten p.m., Conrad came and told her that she could go see him.

They went home two days later and spent every second together. The awfulness that they had endured was enough to make them realize that everything could change in a second. Weeks had gone by since Dean’s injury and they were driving to the mountains to take some pictures and walk the trails. On the way there, they had to pass over a small bridge that went across the river that wasn’t that far below. Jess always closed her eyes going over the bridge because she didn’t like how unsturdy it looked. However, this time it was probably for the best that Jess wasn’t watching, because in the snap of a finger everything changed. The bridge collapsed under them and the car hit the rocks that sat in the river below. Jess wasn’t hurt, but Dean wasn’t so lucky. He died on impact because there were more rocks that were much sharper on his side of the fall. Everything went black and white for Jess as she tried to figure out what had happened. Her whole world had fallen apart and there was nothing she could do about it.

Two months after the accident, Jess hadn’t fully recovered from the emotional trauma that followed. In the time since the accident, although she had grieved, cried, wished it weren’t true, and had many sleepless nights. She had also learned valuable lessons. Jess hadn’t seen color

since Dean died. She missed the color some days more than others. Sometimes she just missed being able to see the color of a flower, but other days the color was a reminder that someone loved her, that she was enough. She hadn’t felt that way since.

Jess found a note in her room that she had written herself long before she met Dean. It read, “The woman who does not require validation from anyone is the most feared individual on the planet.” - Mohadesa Najumi. That reminded Jess that she didn’t someone else in her life to make her feel as though she were enough. She was able to finally see, after months of denial, that she loved herself just as she was and that was enough. She walked into her bathroom and looked in the mirror. Slowly, her lips became pink and her eyes were filled with green specks. She watched as color crept back into her life, not knowing why at first but then realizing that it was because she had made the choice to love herself before anyone else again. She looked up at a note she had written on her mirror, a daily reminder she tried to read every day: Don’t determine the amount of love by the colors you see.

HONORABLE MENTION

The Fairy Queen

by Claire McNease

I woke up to the sound of my little sister, Mia, crying and squealing her lungs out. It wasn’t a very pleasant sound. But I’m the older brother, so it’s my job to look out for her, even if it’s in the middle of the night.

“Jordan!” she screeches. I sigh. It’s never a dull moment with Mia. I stretch out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and bumble over to her room. I check the clock in the hallway, and it reads 4am. Just peachy.

Her room is all pink and covered in drawings of rainbows and unicorns, and she has a light up toy that shows cartoon stars on the ceiling. Mia herself is in a pink unicorn onesie, and her strawberry blonde hair is done up in pigtails. Her face is blotchy from screaming my name. I wish she’d stop that.

“What is it, Mia?” I ask, half asleep. Mia has really bad night terrors, and she hasn’t exactly outgrown her diapers yet, even though she’s in kindergarten.

“Jordan, I saw a monster in the dresser! He’s gonna eat me!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

“There’s no monster, I promise. Do you want me to check for them?” She nods sadly, terrified. I manage to calm her down.

After I finish, I decide I’m up for the day. In another hour, Mia will probably see some other “monster” and make me do the whole routine over again. Just then, Mom walks in.

She’s tall, with intense gray eyes that stare you down. I have those same eyes, but I can’t make them fierce. Like me, she has glossy chestnut hair, hers done in an elegant bun. She has black heels and a pin-striped pantsuit. We might look very similar, but we couldn’t be more different.

“Jordan, you need to keep better control of your sister.” Ever since Dad left, Mom has handed the taking care of Mia over to me. “Yes, Mom.” “I’m off to work. Make sure to get to school on time and your bag is by the door. I’ll be home late, so just order a pizza.” She strides out the door, and it closes with a snap.

I get up to fix Mia a waffle while she’s entranced by whatever Bugs Bunny is saying at the moment. Once I’m done, I put it in front of her.

Soon, she’s gotten dressed and I take her to the bus stop. It’s right in front of our house, but she insists I take her..

The bus arrives soon, and Mia waves at me. I wave back at her, and I start on my commute to school. I’m always a little late to school because of waiting with her, but it’s worth it. I begin to walk to school, but my neighbor, Cheyenne, stops me.

Cheyenne is the coolest girl I know. She’s pretty, with cinnamon hair and bright blue eyes,

and has a laugh that spills from her lips like music. She’s brave, sweet, super smart...and I might have a bit of a crush on her. We’ve been walking to school together since 3rd grade.

“Hey, Jordan! Wait up!” Today she’s wearing a silver t-shirt with denim overalls and some high-tops.

“H-hi Cheyenne! You look pretty today!” A siren goes off in my brain, and my face feels hot. “I MEAN! Um, sorry. That was loud. I meant, you look pretty cool today. Which isn’t to say you’re not pretty, you are, not that I’d notice, I just...yeah.” Great. Real smooth. I might as well just finish it off by collapsing right here on the concrete.

She goes silent for a moment, obviously trying to process what just happened. Then she bursts out laughing. “Um, thank you...I think. Has anyone told you you’re a little weird?”

“Yeah, once or twice.” Relief washes over me. Thank goodness Cheyenne is super chill. “You know, there’s been another missing case at our school,” she adds, showing me her phone. There’s a news headline about a missing girl from our school, Jerowitz Middle, claiming it to be under “mysterious circumstances.”

“Another one? That’s the 3rd one in the last 5 months!” “I know. First it was Samuel Donovan, then Terry Humpler, and now it’s Britney Wentham,” Cheyenne summarizes.

Our school’s had a problem with missing students. The administration is doing everything they can, but they can’t figure it out. They’ve had police officers search everywhere they were last seen, but there doesn’t seem to be any trace of them. They might shut down the school if anyone else goes missing. I had worked with Britney on a project once, and she was pretty nice. I don’t know why anyone would want to kidnap her, if that’s what happened.

We kept walking, talking about silly things like how bad the cafeteria food was, what stupid dare Ryan Felson came up with this week, the typical topics. Then we passed the Redmond house.

Mr. and Mrs. Redmond were always a little strange. People who knew them 20 years ago said they were perfectly normal and were very kind and cheerful. Now, they just sit outside their house all day...waiting for something, with eyes that look like they can read our thoughts. They both have red hair, but they’re disheveled and ragged, completely expressionless. We abruptly stop our conversation and hurry past before they spot us staring.

Soon, we arrive at school. All the other students are already in school, which means I’m late for class. Perfect. I run to school, stuff flying out of my backpack.

floor.

……………………………..

I swing the door open at lightning speed, sweaty and gasping, all my supplies falling on the

Mr. Serrin, my English teacher, turns around. He’s about 60 years old, wearing a polka dot

tie and sporting a very large mustache.

“How kind of you to join us, Mr. Buckham. I suggest you take a seat, unless the detention seats are more comfortable?”

“No, here’s fine!” I quickly take a seat, gathering my things. A few kids snicker. Not surprising. I’ve always been the black sheep of the class.

“As I was explaining before Mr. Buckham rudely interrupted me, we will be having a term project this year.” A collective groan rose. For me, this was a disaster. I already had a horrible grade in English, and I didn’t need a huge project to bring it down even lower.

“You must pick a book from the library, and complete a presentation. You need answers to these questions in your presentation, as well as a summary and visual aids. Have I made myself clear?” Mr. Serrin explained.

“Yes, sir,” everyone says non-enthusiastically. Mr. Serrin goes on for a while about his expectations for the project, and pretty soon the bell rings. I’m on my way to leave, but he stops me.

“We need to have a talk about your performance in my class, Mr. Buckham.” I sigh. This isn’t going to be pretty.

“Yes, Mr. Serrin?” I ask as I sit down opposite him. “Are you aware that you are failing my class?” “Yes, sir.” I squirm a little in my seat. “You are late almost every day, you never turn in your assignments on time, and on the rare occasion that you do, you don’t put any effort into it! How can I get you to apply yourself?” “I don’t know, sir.” “I see. Well, as you know, your term project is coming up, and it is your final grade for this year. Unless you get an A+ on this assignment, I will have to send you to summer school.” I jump straight out of my seat. “What?! Y-you can’t do this! “I’m sorry, Mr. Buckham. It’s not up to me, it’s regulation. Unless you pull off something amazing, you don’t really have a choice. I’d advise you start tonight. I’ll arrange for you stay at the library after hours.”

“B-but…” I stammer. “No buts. I’m sorry, but just work hard on it and you’ll be fine.” The door snaps shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

………………………………….

That night was probably the hardest one my life. I found a book I thought was perfect. It was a little long but not huge, it had a classic sense about it and it was easy to read. Besides, there was just something about it that just drew me to it. It was called The Fairy Queen. At 8pm, the librarians went home and I was there by myself. I had a few things done, but

I hadn’t made much progress. I decided I’d work for a couple more hours and go home. It was getting late anyway, and I woke up at 4am this morning.

I turned to go get some water, but then I heard a strange sound coming from behind me. The sound didn’t stop, so I started fishing around the table to figure out what it was, and I was able to trace the source-the book.

The vines on the cover were glowing and a strange buzzing noise was coming out of the pages.

“That’s weird...is this electronic or something?” I inspected it further, but couldn’t find any batteries or anything that explained the noise. “What is this…” Suddenly, the book flew off the table and lay wide open on the floor, it’s pages humming with golden light. I couldn’t help but scream. I didn’t know what to do with it. Do I burn it? Do I shred it? Do I stab it with a basilisk fang? I didn’t do any of those things- I just screamed like a little girl.

Before I could work up the courage to approach it, I suppose it decided it was done waiting for me to go near it, because some invisible force pushed me forward. I landed on my face, and then it pushed again, harder this time. I expected my face to sting with paper cuts any second, but nothing happened.

I opened my eyes, and I was falling in a tornado of light. It was beautiful, and I almost forgot what had just happened. I felt...happy, which is something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Then it stopped, and I broke my face falling from the sky.

…………………………………………

When I woke up, I had to shield my eyes from the light. I groaned. My back was sore, I was pretty sure I had a black eye, and I could feel cuts on my skin. I opened my eyes, and I gasped with wonder and astonishment.

The landscape was gorgeous, with grass greener than emeralds, huge trees with fruit that shone like multi-colored jewels. Wildflowers bloomed over rolling hills, the clearest streams I’ve ever seen danced in the sunlight. There wasn’t a single cloud in the perfect blue sky. In the center of it all, was a tree.

It wasn’t just any tree. It was a tree of the most humongous portions I’d ever seen. It was the size of an entire building. It was dazzling, with golden light all around it, and I felt drawn to it. Suddenly, I heard a raspy voice behind me.

I whipped around, and saw a tiny hut made of reeds. It had a tiny chimney, with strange purple smoke coming out of it. It was odd- everything a few feet away from it was beautiful and iridescent, but the perimeter of the hut was smoking and devoid of life. There was a short, stout woman using a cane to walk inside the hut. She had frayed silver hair and wrinkled violet skin.

She wore rags and had dirty, crooked teeth. She looked like a hag- but considering I had no idea where I was, for all I knew she really could be one. But I had lots of questions, and I couldn’t see anyone else.

I approached her cautiously. “Um, excuse me. Could you tell me where I am? Because I, um, fell out of the sky. Through a book. So yeah...can you help me?”

She chose not to answer and pretended like I wasn’t there, just kept hobbling over to her hut.

“Queen...beauty...psssh! More potions by tomorrow…” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. My best guess was that this woman was insane. It wasn’t that far-fetched. I decided I would go and see if anyone lived in that giant tree, and see if they could help me. Judging by all the lights, someone probably lived there.

It took a few minutes to walk over there, and it was even more spectacular up close. The lights spun in dizzying patterns and leaves were the greenest I’ve ever seen. I noticed that there were small cottages built on the huge limbs. Perfect! I’d found civilization! But I didn’t know who lived here, and if they were friendly. What if it was a bunch of tribal cannibals? I had to be careful. “Um, excuse me? Can you help me? I’m lost...this is going to sound crazy, but I think I’ve fallen through a book...is anyone here?” As if answering my question, a trumpet blasted from somewhere in the highest reaches of the tree. Descending from the highest from the branch was the most beautiful sight I’d ever beheld.

A parade of light and sound descended toward me. Coming down from the branch were petite men and women in long billowing dresses and suits. They blew trumpets and waved banners, almost like a procession. Then there was her.

She was tall, with flaming red hair that fell to her ankles. She had soft green eyes filled with intelligence, and a crown made of gold and metallic flowers every color of the rainbow. Her dress swept over her like a waterfall, it’s silken material draping around her. Her sleeves were long, waving like ribbons in the breeze. But most surprising was the huge, soft butterfly wings on her back. I now saw that each of them had wings. They weren’t walking, they were floating! “May I ask who you are?” she asked, her voice thick with compassion. “Um, I’m Jordan. Jordan Buckham,” I replied, unsure of whether I trusted them. “I see. And you said you arrived here through a book? How peculiar.” “Yes, it was...different. Could you tell me where I am?” “Why, you don’t know?” She asked curiously. “Nope. All I know is that this isn’t my town,” I answered, anxious to finally have answers to my questions.

“Well, this is the Magic Sycamore. It’s where myself and my people live. More specifically, you’re in the Land of the Fairies. I’m their queen.”

At that last word, everything came crumbling down around me. She said she ruled over fairies. That she was their queen. The Fairy Queen. Part of it made sense. Where else would I be?

But on the other hand, I’d rather it had taken me to some distant where I might be able to fly home. Not inside the imagined land of a book.

“We wouldn’t happen to be in...Windour, would we?” I asked nervously, silently praying I was wrong.

“Why, yes we are! You’re not lost after all! I am Queen Elleandra,” she exclaimed, holding out her hand for me to shake, which I did, my stomach churning.

“I-I see. As I said, I’m Jordan, um...I’m still lost. I came through a book, and I don’t have anywhere to go right now. Do...do you mind if I could stay here?”

“Oh, we don’t mind at all! In fact, we have a guest house just for visitors! Stay as long as you please!”

“R-really?” “Of course! Actually, if you’re new here, you simply must try dragon riding. It’s an experience you’ll never forget. We can start tomorrow if you’d like!” she exclaimed happily.

“Er...that sounds amazing, but I should be heading home as soon as possible. My folks are probably worried about me, so I should try to get home.”

“I understand. Luckily for you, we have a team of expert scholars here, a few select mages, and so much more! I can set them to work on finding you a way home. So we can still go dragon riding! Is that good for you?” She asked excitedly, gesturing to several fairies wearing marked robes and carrying piles of books.

“Uh...okay! That sounds nice. I suppose I could stay for dragon riding.” “Excellent! Let me show you to the guest house, okay?” “Sure,” I replied. As much as I wanted to go home, dragon riding sounded incredible. Besides, magical scholars were going to help me, so it was okay if I enjoyed myself a little, right? Elleandra ushered me to a beautiful cottage on one of the highest branches. It was quaint, but one of the most lovely sights I’d ever seen. The bed was the most comfortable one I’d ever been in, and I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow. There, I had the most restful night I’d had in a long time, with a smile on my face.

……………………………

That morning, we started dragon riding. Elleandra was waiting for me by what they called the landing deck. I tried my best to be enthusiastic in front of Elleandra.

“Trust me, there’s nothing like it. You shouldn’t be nervous,” she insisted. “Nervous? I’m not nervous. Why would you think that? Do I look nervous to you? Cause I’m not.” I was crouched down, holding on to myself shivering. That probably didn’t sell it very well.

She laughed. “Well, you look very nervous, but maybe that’s just me. Now come on, the dragons are waiting.”

My dragon was named Airshock. Elleandra told me he was very old, so he wouldn’t go very fast. It still didn’t quell my fear.

“Now, dragon riding is very easy. All you have to do is tell your dragon the phrase to tell them to fly. Airshock’s is “naturalize-”

“AAAAAHHHHH!!!!” I screamed. Airshock had taken off at Elleandra’s command. I wasn’t ready. It didn’t matter if he was old or not, he was still fast. Before I knew it, we were in the clouds. It was beautiful, but still scared me out my skin. If I fell now, that would be it. Elleandra showed up with her dragon a moment later. “Don’t you worry! If you fall off, which is extremely unlikely, I’ll teleport you with my magic.”

“Right.” I still had a tight grip on my dragon and I wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. Heights was never my favorite thing. But as I opened my eyes and looked around, I almost forgot about my fear. It was the most peaceful moment I’ve ever had, growing up in such a chaotic world.

“Amazing, isn’t it? How perfect and quiet it is up here? I always fly to the clouds whenever I’m stressed. It just melts all your cares away.” Elleandra gazed around at the fluffy clouds with a fondness that was very deep, like greeting an old friend.

“Well, this has been lovely, but there are matters I must take care of. Let’s head back to the Magic Sycamore. Let’s go back, Emberspark.” She guided her scarlet and orange dragon back to the tree, where I was back on the sweet, stable ground. But I had to admit, she was right. It was an experience I’d never forget.

The rest of the day wasn’t as memorable, but it was certainly enjoyable. That night, I slept even better than the previous night.

I spent several days like this, just relaxing and mingling with other fairies. I was no longer the black sheep, or the big brother in charge of everyone, I was just Jordan, and it was perfect. I asked a couple times if the scholars had gotten any closer to finding me a way home, but to be honest, I wasn’t all that concerned about it. I felt happier than I’d ever had in a long time.

I did notice that sometimes Elleandra would sneak away to one of the highest branches and sit by herself, looking at some sort of paper or photograph. I decided to see what was bothering her, so I faced my fear and climbed all the way up there. “Um, Elleandra?” “Hm? Oh, hello Jordan. I’m just enjoying the view. It...makes my eyes water,” she replied, her voice cracking ever so slightly as she brushed away tears.

“What’s that?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t being rude. She was holding a wallet-size portrait of a man a little older than she was. They had the same narrow cheekbones and easy smile, but there were some differences too. He had red hair, but his was darker, looking more ginger. Instead of Elleandra’s round, soft emerald eyes he had sharp gray eyes.

“Oh...this is my brother. He was older than me, and his name was Alistair. He was a soldier, and he hated being a fairy. He used to try to tuck his wings in his shirt but it always

ripped it up by the end of the day. He was constantly getting new shirts.” She laughed fondly at the memory. “He went with some troops to explore uncharted territory...and he never came back.”

“Elleandra, I’m so-” “You don’t need to do that, I’m okay. It gets easier over time. I know in school it’s hard to get over wounds, but there’s no need to comfort me.” Just like that, Elleandra swept off the branch.

There was something about what she just said that struck me as odd, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Then it hit me.

“Wait, you have schools here?” “N-er, yes! Yes, we do! That’s what I was referencing. Why?” “I don’t know. I just didn’t see any for miles around. I figured you didn’t have them, so I was just confused on how you knew about them.”

“Well, we do!” Elleandra laughed nervously. “Oh, look at how fast the sun is setting! I’m off to bed. Good night, Jordan!” She hurried off, leaving me confused and bewildered.

………………………………………

That morning, I couldn’t fall asleep for the first time since I started my stay here. Something was pulling me awake, nagging at the edge of my mind. As dawn approached, I decided to get some fresh air to lull me to sleep. I wandered for a little bit around the tree, taking in the crisp morning air. Suddenly, a flash of red caught my eye. It was Elleandra, her gaze sweeping around, like she didn’t want to be seen. My curiosity got the better of me. It was wrong to snoop, but I felt like there was something she wasn’t telling me.

I followed her for a few minutes, and then I saw her walking towards that hag’s hut I’d seen when I first arrived here. What was she doing here? I crept just outside the entrance to listen in.

“...Please! You don’t understand, it’s decaying! I need your potions to restore it, I beg you,” Elleandra pleaded.

“Psssh! Potions, potions, potions! I’ll give you your potions again if you let me harvest on your land.”

“You know I can’t do that, my people would never allow it. You just have to give me some more potions. I’m desperate! I...I’ll harvest some ingredients for you and no one will ever know. Is that good?”

“Mmmm...very well. Here’s a few bottles.” The hag lifted a bottle filled with purple, fizzy liquid. Elleandra held out her arm and rolled up her sleeve, revealing a large circle that was smoking and bright purple. The hag poured a few drops, and the skin mended itself into flawless, blemish-free skin. Then she poured a couple drops on a lock of hair that was dry and purple as

well. It too smoothed out and fell perfectly like silk, retaining it’s blazing hue. I decided this was the time to ask questions.

“Elleandra? W-what are you doing?” She spun around quick as lightning. “J-Jordan? Um, what are you doing here so early? You should go back to bed. It’s dawn...I was just telling her something. It’s nothing to be concerned about. Come now.” She pushed me out, I heard the clinking of bottles, and when she stepped out, I noticed her bag was fuller than it was before she left.

“Are you going to tell me what you were doing in there?” I asked irritatedly as she continued to push me along back to the Magic Sycamore. She looked very nervous.

“It’s like I told you, it’s nothing to be concerned about. Just go back to sleep. Don’t worry about it, everything’s perfect.”

Elleandra was acting strange for the rest of the day, and everytime I walked up to her, she brushed me away spouting nervous gibberish. In fact, a few days passed and Elleandra avoided me still.

Then one day, a huge commotion rose from all the fairies. Cheering and bright lights poured out of every window, and I see Elleandra crying from joy. I try to ask some of the fairies what’s happening, but they’re all too swept up in excitement to answer me. I eventually find Elleandra in the crowd, with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. “Elleandra, what’s going on?” I ask. She brushes away a tear. “It’s...it’s Alistair. He’s returned from the uncharted lands.” I nearly choked.

“Really?” “Yes, our scouts spotted him nearby in the abandoned colosseum. Will you excuse me for a moment?” She stepped out and began to address her people.

“I know everyone is excited, but I would like to go alone to see my brother. It is what he deserves. Jordan will come with me.” “I-I will?” “Don’t worry, it won’t be awkward. We’d better get a move on, the colosseum’s pretty far,” she assured me, and I decided I would go with her. I wasn’t sure why she’d chosen me to go with her, but I didn’t need to question it. I trusted her.

The coliseum was pretty far from the Magic Sycamore, but I kept going because I figured it would be worth it in the end.

Eventually, we reached the colosseum. It was huge and stone, and most of the ground was dead and decaying. I was excited to meet Alistair, but he wasn’t there.

“I don’t understand...he should be here. The scouts saw him. L-Let’s split up, okay, you search over there on the far end, and I’ll search here.”

“Sure.” I set out to the far end of the colosseum, where lots of debris and boulders sat. I called his name a few times, but I saw nothing. I decided maybe he might be stuck in the

debris, so I started to make my way to a large pile of debris. Halfway there, something strange happened. I couldn’t move. My entire body was frozen. I struggled against this invisible force with all my might but I couldn’t shake. I felt myself being forced to turn around. Then there was Elleandra. But she wasn’t herself.

In place of the almost angelic fairy queen, was something completely different. Her hair was wild and bright purple, and she had smoking purple spots like I saw in the hut. Her dress was black lace now and her eyes were intense and sharp. Overall, she looked like a taller, younger version of the hag in the woods.

I found my voice at last. “E-Elleandra? What happened to you? What are you doing?” She gave out a cold, calloused laugh. “Always so confused, Jordan. Always seeking answers when they’re right under your nose. Although, perhaps that’s a common trait in book characters.”

I blanched. “W-What?” “Let me tell you a story. Once there was a little redheaded girl named Ellie. She was an 8th grader a long time ago, and she was a misfit. People teased her, bullied her, and the boy she liked hated her. She couldn’t do anything right, and she didn’t have any friends. Then one day, she was walking home, sad and lonely, and she found a book lying on the sidewalk. It was called the Fairy Queen. Sound familiar?”

I almost choked. “But...but that’s not possible!” “Anything’s possible with a little imagination. As you could guess, she got transported into the book and found the Magic Sycamore. There was already a Fairy Queen there, and she quickly discovered that she was the first person to be transported into the book. They became friends, and Ellie had finally found a place where she belonged. Eventually, the Queen passed, and Ellie became the new one. She figured out that whenever someone new came into the book, it began to rewrite itself, with the previous Queen being thrown back into the real world forever and the new enterer replacing her. Ellie hated this idea, because it would mean going back to the real world, and this was her home now. She loved it with all her heart and soul, and would do anything to make sure it wasn’t taken from her. Weeks passed uneventfully, and then one Samuel Donovan appeared, lost and confused.

“Ellie realized the only way for her to keep herself in this utopia was to dispose of anyone who comes into the book. But fairies don’t possess magic that harm others. So she had to find another source to teach her dark magic-a certain hag in the woods. She possessed the power to rid those who posed a threat to her, and she did just that. However, black magic takes a toll on one’s appearance, so she had to take regular beauty potions to maintain her queen facade. A couple weeks later, a new one came, and a couple months later, so did another one. They’re gone now. That brings our story to the present. A foolish, simple minded schoolboy named Jordan Buckham stumbled into the book and fell right into Ellie’s trap without even realizing it.”

My skin paled and a horrifying realization sinks into the pit of my stomach. “You’re Ellie, aren’t you? Y-you...you killed innocent children just so you could stay here? You’re a monster!” She sighed. “I always get the same reaction. They call me a monster, a psychopath, and other such names, and maybe they’re right. Maybe I am a monster. But people aren’t monsters because they choose to be, but because they have no other choice.”

“You’re wrong. You do have a choice. You could face your fear and go back into the real world, or stay where nothing is real. There’s good things here, but they don’t mean anything like they do in reality.”

“Everything means more in reality. Every hurtful word, every mean stunt. It hurts so much more than it ever could here.” She flashes a sickeningly sweet smile. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be better friends, Jordan. I did like you, but not enough to give this world up.”

Suddenly, a cloud of darkness envelops me, and it feels like my soul is being ripped out of my chest. My lungs don’t work, and it’s like I’m suffocating. I’m almost ready to give up. There isn’t a way to escape this. Then I realize that if I don’t live, then countless other misfits are going to fall into the same trap I did. I can’t let that happen. Even if fighting won’t accomplish anything, I have to try. I force myself to try to resist the shadow, even though I know it’s pointless. What could I do? What could I do to stop my death? Then it hit me. I needed to keep resisting. If I did that, it would take longer to kill me. Elleandra said that I would eventually replace her as ruler of the fairies if she didn’t kill me, so I needed to keep struggling to have it take long enough for me to gain her power. There were a lot of ‘if’s and ‘maybe’s, but it was the only plan I had. I pushed against the darkness enveloping me, and tried to push it away. I did this for several minutes, and I could hear Elleandra getting frustrated. “Why isn’t he dead?” she exclaimed angrily. Then everything happened at once. A halo of light surrounded me, banishing the darkness away. I wore a masculine version of Elleandra’s old outfit, and in my hand was a scepter. I could tell it must be magical by the way sparkled and how it drew me to it. I grabbed Elleandra by the hand and pointed the scepter at the sky. A bright flash filled my vision, and I heard Elleandra shriek. Then everything went black.

………………………………………………..

I woke up a minute later in the library. Everything was just as it was before, but there were a couple posters with my face on it, reporting me missing for 2 weeks. I hadn’t realized I’d been gone that long-it was like I’d been brainwashed. Next to me, was a girl.

She had shoulder-length red hair and bright purple glasses. She had freckles and the same round green eyes. She was thin and and bit smaller than I was. She wore a solid orange shirt with a long-sleeved black one underneath it. She had black leggings with fireworks on them and lilac high-tops. She woke up, saw where she was, and started to sob. I realized she must be Ellie.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to-” “You monster! How could you...How could you take me away?!” She was sobbing even harder now, slapping away my hand at an attempt to comfort her.

“Listen to me. You don’t need that book. You just have to live in the now, in reality. You don’t need some fantasy haven to fix all your problems, you have to go out and solve them. You can make this world your utopia.”

She stopped crying, then got on her feet. “Y-You’re right. I’ve done so many terrible things, and I need to make them right. But first I...I think I need to go home. I remember the way.”

We started walking toward, and I realized we were on my street. She stopped at a certain large teal house that everyone avoided. The Redmond House. “The Redmonds? They’re your parents?” “Yes, I remember.” Ellie gulped. “What...what will I say? You don’t realize how long I’ve been gone. I’ve been in that book for 20 years, Jordan. I can’t just pop up at their door.”

“Just...Knock on the door and say whatever comes to mind. You’ll be okay.” She nods, and rings the doorbell.

Mrs. Redmond answers the door, and her placid expression melted away in an instant. She drops to her knees and starts to cry. Mr. Redmond peers in to see what the fuss is about, and gasps.

“H-hi,” Ellie says timidly. She doesn’t have to say anything else, because her parents lock her in her tight embrace. They don’t even question why she hasn’t aged a day since she disappeared. Perhaps she was what they had been looking for all that time.

Looking at all their happy faces, I realized what I told Ellie was the same for me. You need to live in the moment, and push past your problems instead of running away from them. For better or for worse, everything has more weight to it in the real world, causing happy memories and real experiences. Reality is where the magic happens.

HONORABLE MENTION

Speaking Up

by Lilah Haen

I wonder everyday what being able to say what you want is like. I’ve never been able to talk. People would call me mute. I was born with mutism. I can hear perfectly fine, but am not able to talk. My parents put me up for adoption when they found out I would never talk after a doctor’s visit. I had a tongue deformation. I was only two months old at the time. I was adopted when I was two. I still live with my adoptive parents, who seem to understand me. I normally communicate in sign language at home, but at school I use a whiteboard.

My first grade teacher always had a sign in her room that said: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I always wanted to say that I can’t speak but of course I couldn’t. On the first day of school of second grade, my teacher told me to speak up and not be so shy. I wrote on my whiteboard that I was mute, and couldn’t talk, but she kept insisting that I was lying. After that day, I was homeschooled for the rest of elementary school.

One day in summer, near the time school started, my mom and dad told me that they decided to have me go to middle school. I would be starting in sixth grade, so they thought it would be good for me to have a fresh start. I cried for the rest of the day. My parents had me write out a slip that explained why I couldn’t talk. They both signed it, and they copied about a million slips of it for me to take to school. I never thought I would be ready, but here I am.

I am so nervous, walking into the middle school. My parents are right beside me, but I am more nervous than I have ever been. The principal is outside pretending to act casual, but I can tell he is waiting to meet me. He says, “Hello Rio! I am pleased to meet you, and am glad to see you attend Washington Middle! I hope you feel welcome here! There is a special locker for you by all your classes. There’s a few communication devices in there. My name is Principal Newman. If you need anything, anything at all, just ask.” My parents said goodbye to me, and then I was on my own.

I found my way to my first class very easy. The whole day was pretty easy until I came across Leila. Leila was the school bully. She came up to me and said, “Are you new?” I nodded. She replied “What is your name?” I got my whiteboard out and tried to write my name but not before she yelled at me to respond to her. I handed her one of the slips of paper, but almost instantly she tore it up. She yelled, “Why aren’t you responding?” I tried to write it down, but not before Principal Newman walked down the hall. He asked, “Why are you girls late?” Leila replied almost instantly, “She got in my way.” Principal Newman then turned to me. He said, “Can you please write down what happened Rio?” I write, “I tried to get to class, but then Leila stopped me. She ripped up my paper and yelled at me.” Leila gave me the death stare. Principal Newman asked Leila to follow him and then told me to go to class.

When class ended, one girl came up to me and said, “Did you really stand up to Leila?” I nodded. She smiled. She said, “No one has ever spoken up to Leila. My name is Ella. Do you want

to be friends?” I nodded. I handed her one of the slips. She said, “I have met a lot of mute, deaf, blind, and differently abled people. My mom runs a group for people with all kinds of challenges. Everyone is very nice. You should come!” I nodded. She gave me her mom’s number, so I could go to the group.

So overall, first day of middle school was a success. One thing I learned today is to just speak up.