Th e Ladybug Sai d " M eow "

Creati v e Wri ti ng f rom

Ch arl es Ri v er Creati v e A rts Program
Jul y 2017
 The Ladybug Said "Meow "
Creat ive Writ ing from Charles River Creat ive Art s Program
July 2017

Inst ructors:
Walker Anderson
Maddie Vanech
Sammi Janower

The Tinted Water | Lilly Caplan | Short Story Workshop | 2

Art With a Capital 'A' | Roxanne Glassenberg | Playwriting | 4
The Queen of the Aglets: A Memoir | Henry Thacher | One-a-Day Writeamin | 8
Aquapolis | Rachel Alpert-Wisnia | One-a-Day Writeamin | 9
Untitled Short Story | Ariel Reinstein | Short Story Workshop | 10
Stick With The Plan (Excerpts) | Stella Cahill | Playwriting | 12
Love Letter | Leah Koritz | One-a-Day Writeamin | 14
The Journey | Louise Stedman | One-a-Day Writeamin | 14
The Missing Man (excerpts) | Leah Koritz | Playwriting | 15
Aliens and Advil (excerpts) | Ruby Ellerin | Playwriting | 18
Igatha & Eliza | Caroline Cole | Short Story Workshop | 20
A Play (excerpt) | Henry Thacher | Playwriting | 23
Nick's Talent | Mehr Gurung | Short Story Workshop | 24
Abe Meets the Queen | Rachel Alpert-Wisnia | One-a-Day Writeamin | 27
Glass Island Journey | Louise Stedman | One-a-Day Writeamin | 27
A Poor Guy Named Walker | Isabella Lazaro-Gere | One-a-Day Writeamin | 27
Unnamed Play | Nina Kahn | Playwriting | 28
The Tale of Me | Henry Thacher | One-a-Day Writeamin | 31
A 14th Birthday | Sadie Rothstein | Short Story Workshop | 32
Caught in the Center (excerpts) | Ciaran Murphy | Playwriting | 33
Scene 1 | Grace Gordon | Playwriting | 36
Cary, the Career Ruiner | Isabella Lazaro-Gere | One-a-Day Writeamin | 39
Charlie and Kylie (excerpt) | Isabella Lazaro-Gere | Playwriting | 40
Winifred and Will (excerpt) | Caroline Cole | Playwriting | 43

Cover Art : Gillian Arend

1.
The Tinted Water
By Lilly Caplan

Chapter 1 | Lila

Lila br ushed her finger s through the chilly lakewater as she and her fr iends skidded across the murky
wetness. Lila could make out the silhouettes of defor med fish and dead lily pads swaying under neath the
sur face.
?You may not know, but 20% of this lake is tainted by chemicals and oil. This is causing the fish
population to drop by nearly two thirds,? Lar a infor med, signaling to the discolored foam lapping at the shore
and decomposing fish carcases floating a few feet from Lila?s outstretched hand.
Lila pulled her hand out of the water in a flash, causing a blast of water to spew all over the motorboat
and on Mia.
A noise compar able to a dying goat mutated with a screeching crow er upted from Mia.
?You got me wet with weird chemical water ! I already told you that this shir t is expensive and that it
will get r uined if it gets wet!? Mia cr ied, fr antically tr ying to wipe the blackish brown water from her white
blouse. ?Lila, you got my hair wet!? Mia combed her finger s through her sunshine blonde hair. Mia?s hair was
was her pr ide and joy
Lar a tur ned to Lila and whispered: ?Oh no, not the hair !? Lar a?s voice was dr ipping with sarcasm. Lila
giggled. Mia glared at them; she couldn?t stand not knowing ever yone?s secrets or not being in on a secretive
chat.
?Mia, look, I?m sor r y, but going on a boat r ide in a shir t that can't get wet seems a little senseless. Plus
getting wet is pretty much guar anteed while on a boat r ide,? Lila commented.
Mia har r umphed and tur ned back to the small motor propelling the boat through the thick, slimy
waves, pretending to inspect it. At this point, Lila really wanted to push Mia off the boat, but Mia, Lila and
Lar a were best fr iends and pushing Mia off the boat would be plain mean.
?Looks like we?re here!? Lar a called
?Land ahoy!? Lila added
?This is where we?re hiking?? Mia sounded disgusted. She also star ted listing off the reasons they
should go back home.
Lila examined the site and realized that Mia had a point. Two foot long gr ass grew around the small
beach. Scr awny trees with dr ied leaves dotted the mucky mar sh. Flies and mosquitoes buzzed around the
soggy landscape. Residue from the many factor ies in the area and pesticides washed up on the shore. The
metal boat slid onto to the gr ay (but should have been yellow) sand.
Lila gagged as the pungent fumes of the swamp wafted up her nostr ils. Mia let out a long, high- pitched
whine.
Lar a seemed to be almost okay with the vile stench, but Lar a was used to str ange smells from all of her
science exper iments.
?Couldn?t we have gone to a park or to an actual hiking tr ail?? Mia fussed
?Don?t wor r y, this will be fun.? Lila half assured Mia and half assured her self.
A chilling breeze r attled the air and Lila silently thanked her self for wear ing jeans and a war m gr ay
sweatshir t. Lar a adjusted her heavy blue sweater and star ted to march off into the reeds, her hiking shoes
squelching in the mud.
?Come on guys!? Lar a called.
?I'm not coming!? Mia proclaimed.
Lila moved through the muck as fast as possible, but the mud kept on slur ping at her feet, and the
weeds and gr asses scr atched up against her legs. As Lila tr ied to tr udge through the sludge, her foot sank into
the mud, or was it being pulled? Lila didn't want to think about snakes and frogs and lizards in the slop
around her. Lila thought about calling for Lar a or Mia to help yank her out but Lar a was probably far ahead,
shoved up a dead tree or cave, examining the animal life. Lila knew that Mia was squatting at the edge of the
boat, inspecting her nails. Both of Lila?s companions were out of ear shot. Lila tr ied to yank her foot from the
mud again, but her foot was definitely caught. A dark feeling settled in Lila. Suddenly, the mud around her
oozed up into the air, for ming into the shape of a humanoid.
Lila felt the gr asses around her impr ison her legs and climb up to her head, blindfolding her eyes. Lila
2.
tr ied to scream but gloopy water poured down her throat, preventing breath from enter ing her lungs. She
desper ately tr ied to break free from the plants that bound her, but she was weak from lack of air. Lila blindly
clawed out with her hands, her finger tips barely gr azing the swampy beast. Consciousness escaped Lila and
she fell into the thick reeds and heavy mud.

Chapter 2 | Lar a

Lar a felt a nagging feeling, like something bad had occur red.
?Lila??
Lar a r an through the shr ubs and goopy soil, searching for Lila.
Lar a spotted a body slumped in the dense mud.
?Lila!? Lar a wailed
Lila's curly brown hair was matted in mushy dir t and her clothes were smothered with mud. Vines
wr apped around par ts of her body. Lila was cold to the touch Those cour ses in self- preser vation better work,
Lar a thought as she pushed against Lila?s chest.
Eventually, soupy mud bur st out of Lila?s mouth and she began gasping for air.
?Lila! Are you okay?? Lar a asked as her voice shook with wor r y..
?It was alive,? Lila mur mured hoar sely. ?The swamp was alive.?
?Lila, you?re not thinking str aight. We have to go home, now.?
Lila nodded numbly.
As Lar a r ipped the vines from Lila, Lar a realized that Lila hadn?t gotten caught in the plants? the
plants had grown around her. Lar a knew that was impossible, but tr auma made people see things, it was
probably Lar a?s mind playing tr icks on her. Lar a gr abbed Lila by the shoulder s and pulled her through the
reeds. Lar a?s back ached from lugging Lila around the swamp, but finally they tr udged across the beach and
reached the boat where Mia was crouching, filing her nails with her ever- present nail file. As soon as Mia laid
her eyes on Lila she went deadly pale.

Chapter 3 | Mia

Lila looked dead. Her skin was two shades paler, and she was a painful mess.
?Is she okay?? Mia croaked.
?She isn't dead,? Lar a pointed out.
?What happened to her ?? Mia mumbled. She hated when her fr iends were in pain.
?She said something about the swamp being alive.?
?Oh god, she was probably dr ugged by some cr iminal, I knew this swamp wasn?t safe!? Mia cr ied
Lila star ted to babble and without a war ning, she let out a blood- curdling scream. Lar a and Mia
jumped over to Lila to make sure was okay.
?They?re back!? she r asped.
?Who?s back?? Mia shivered.
Lila shakily pointed at the trees. Mia and Lar a looked in the direction Lila was pointing at. After a
pause, five or six bodies made of swamp emer ged from the shadows. They were composed of mud, dir t and
rock that dr ipped with ever y movement they made. Gr asses and reeds grew spontaneously out of their soggy
skin. The veins pumping green fluids through their massive bodies bulged out. They were ver y tall, about
seven feet at the least. The mushy monster s had something that resembled a r ibcage that protr uded from
their muddy for ms. They had small circular faces, but no eyes. Each had a big mouth that was filled with
shar p stone teeth. Two holes appeared at a small lump in the middle of their face? their noses.
They galloped on their long, lanky legs, quickly getting closer to the girls. Ter ror kept the girls glued to
the ground. They all screamed in unison as the swampy beasts leapt upon them. Their stoney jaws clamped
down.
Did they sur vive? No one knows.
The wind br ushes the reeds into a swaying movement. The skinny trees cling to life by the slowly
failing strength of their dying leaves. The smell of chemicals and rotting animal flesh is in the air, but is it only
animals that have died in this swamp? The black and brown tinted water laps at the gr ay beach, eating at a
small metal boat. A voice in the distance is searching for someone missing. Three voices answer back.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
The Queen of t he Aglet s: A Memoir
By Henry Thacher

I am the Queen of the Aglets (those little plastic-y things on the ends of shoelaces)! This is
my story. I have a big family, but I am bored. I?m going crazy! W hy am I hearing and seeing things
nobody else can? Oh, look! My father is riding a unicorn through the meadow!
?Daddy!?I call. He continues to ride, his hair swaying in the wind. ?Daddy!?I scream. I hear
the clacking of boots behind me. My dad stands in the doorway.
?W hat is it, sweetpea??he asks, as tiny people dance on his shoulders. My mind races. How
is this possible? I let loose a terrifying, ear-splitting scream. W hat is real and what isn?t? I don?t
know anymore! W hat if I?m dead right now? W hat if this all isn?t real? The sky? what if it doesn?t
really exist? At that moment, I wake up. W hat a strange dream! There isn?t even such thing as the
Queen of the Aglets! And? my father with blond hair? W hat a joke! He has the blackest hair I?ve
ever seen? the same color as mine. Being a queen seems so much better than my current
situation: a broken foot. You see, it's not that bad, but it seems that one of my siblings played a
prank on me last night! They put whipped cream in my cast, and now I can?t take a bath! I am
visiting my boyfriend today, and I?m going to be all dirty! *Sigh*
8.
Aquapolis
By Rachel Alpert-W isnia

Salutations. I?m Denzel Connor, and I?m going to attempt to be the first man to ever climb Mount
W hopper.
Here, I?ll give you some information on me. I?m 25 years old, I was born in Aquapolis and my
parents are both Aquapolisians, and I really love to paint my pet duck?s toenails. Enough about me; what
you?re really here for is my story.
After months of preparation, my bag is fully packed. Tent? Check. Grappling Hook? Check. Lots of
food? Check. Hat? Check. Gloves? Check. Other stuff on the list? Check. Since I?m all ready to go, I guess
it?s time to leave. My mother kisses me goodbye and snaps a photo for her scrapbook. She?s a cool mom, I
swear.
I shimmy into my Porsche and cruise around town for a little bit. W ho knows, I may never come
back from this hike. ?I?ll miss you, Barbara?s Deli.?I whisper when I pass by her retro style store. ?You too,
Uncle Pete?s Hardware.?This store is where I get all of my materials for anything, including the nail polish I
use to paint my duck?s nails! Yesterday, I painted her toenails a warm shade of hot pink and oo, la, la! You
should?ve seen her face! She could tell she looked just plain out divalicious! Anyway, after saying
goodbye to more stores, including ?W hite Van Dealers?and ?Leonardo?s Mexican Burrito Hola
Quinceanera Fiesta,?I continue to the mountain. I pull up into Woppolini Street, and my windows instantly
frost over. I hop out of the car and grab my bag. I take a deep breath, my organs quaking in my chest. I slip
my hat and gloves on, and pull my ski goggles down my forehead.
I step into the icy mist, and snow crunches softly under my boots. The hum of the wind fills my
ears. I lunge forward, to gain momentum. I dash towards the gigantic mountain, filled with confidence. I
glide in the air, my feet barely touch the ground. I sprint, and bang right into the side of the mountain. My
head throbs, my snow goggles smudged and covered with condensation and snow. I shake off the snow
that covers my wool jacket, but it does no use. I still feel like my body is being frozen for medical research.
I shiver, my teeth clattering and scraping against each other, making the godawful noise that haunts my
sleep every night. I can?t be discouraged already. There?s approximately? I pull out my ?A Loser?s Guide to
Mountain Hiking?book? approximately 40,000 feet left to climb! That only makes me feel worse. I climb
onto a small mound of snow, and begin my adventure. For hours, I climb the gigantic mountain. My
backpack bounces as I move gracefully up the hill. The grappling hook plunges into the side, snow
flaking into my mouth. I spit it out, because I was told to never eat snow no matter what color it was. My
legs grow tired after I?m around halfway up. I can?t give up now. I continue to climb without any breaks. I
heave and ho as my legs work towards my goal. My hook is worn down, its tip is beginning to lose its
edges. The burning sunlight glares off of the silver hook and flashes in my eyes, causing me to blink
rapidly. My vision is adhered, yet I continue to climb. Black spots start to cloud my vision.
Just...a...little...bit?.left?.I persevere up the mountain. The tip! I can see the tip! I reach put, my hand
outstretched. I hoist myself up the mountain. It?s...beautiful. The clouds around me drift in the sky, and the
cold air blows across my nose. I close my eyes, listening to the soft hums of the birds. W hat a life this is.
After climbing down, which surprisingly took more effort, I drove back to my place. As I drive, I
shiver. I?m still cold. You know what I need? A nice day at the beach. I grab my backup towel from the
trunk and turn the car to the opposite direction. ?Siri, take me to Horp Bay,?I say clearly to my iPhone 14. I
follow the directions, and drive for an hour or so. I listen to my favorite tunes on the way. Suddenly, the
radio shuffles to my favorite song, ?All Star Bango Plucking Style?by Bango Bangers. I bounce up and
down as the beat drops and fills me with joy. I scream the words, my mouth in a huge smile.
Once I pull up to the sandy, dirty pavement, I unbuckle my seatbelt and step into the outside air,
gripping my Spongebob beach towel. I run into the sandy shore, drop my towel at a random spot, and I
dash into the water. The water is cold, making my ankles freeze and shiver. Soon, though, the water
seems refreshing. I swim into the middle of the horizon, my arms stroke back and forth. My legs splash
the water viciously. Suddenly, I notice a spot of grey in the water. I ignore it, enjoying the ethereal peace.
My decision is not smart. I am suddenly lifted into the air, my body lying on a smooth, grey platform. I
wonder curiously, shocked with confusion. Then, I notice a pointy thing sticking into my chest. I sit up, and
it?s a fin. ?Oh, no,?I mutter. The creature bobs its head, knocking me off of its back. I stroke away
ferociously. I swim and swim. After what seems like an hour of stroking, I decide to catch my breath.
There?s no way the shark is still chasing me. Suddenly, my leg screams in pain. I screech, my arms flailing.
I am sucked into a strong force, and sharp things are stabbing into my body. I am pulled into the water,
and my screams are silenced. Forever. THE END

9.
Untitled Shor t Stor y
By Ar iel Reinstein

I?ve been taught r ight from wrong. It wasn?t a matter of religion to me. From the star t my
parents told me to not let anyone screw me over, no matter what they told me. With that knowledge,
I managed even to abstain from alcohol, even when most of my fr iends had already star ted dr inking.
It was so simple then.
Now, I?m not so sure.
I live in a nice, clean yet slightly cold abode. I live with a mother with a knack for indifference
when interest is not necessar y, a dad with whom I only conver se with on weekends, and a little sister
six year s younger than me. I can tell she would have a multitude of fr iendships. But that isn?t the
case; because of her shyness, she faces har assment from her peer s far too often.
I took her to Gabr ielle?s, one of the few food places in our town. It was us, many other
students, and three brother s. From oldest to youngest their names were Jacob, Chr istopher and
Jackson. These boys were familiar to me because they loved ir r itating and insulting my sister for no
apparent reason other than it was easy for them to do. I swear that I?m the only one who keeps my
sister sane. They came over to her spot where she was color ing with chalk on the pavement a few
feet away, which meant that I followed.
?Hey!? The middle child said. ?I?m speaking to you, Dahlia.?
?What? Are you deaf, girl? He?s speaking to you,? the eldest hissed.
I star ted yelling at them. ?Leave her the hell alone!?
?Make me.? The youngest taunted, then kicked my sister in the side.
I fell apar t that day. I believed that keeping my mor als coincided with punishment, and this
boy needed to be punished. In front of ever yone, I pushed him to the ground and he scr aped up his
knees and hands. I looked like a hor r ible per son. After I found my cool again, My eyes sur veyed the
shocked faces of the people around me. The boys had left and were definitely not coming back. I
gr abbed my sister ?s hand and bolted back home. I opened the front door, sped up the stair s a little
louder than usual, flopped headfir st onto a mint colored comfor ter, and sat there, star ing into
oblivion for half an hour at least.
The next mor ning was thankfully a weekend. I got up for a cup of coffee when I found my
mother had already made a pot and was lounging across the couch. My father hadn?t woken up yet.
She was out all night. I appeared that whatever excitement she?d used on enter taining guests the
night before had disintegr ated over night.
A few words were exchanged. Then I asked to be sent to boarding school.
?Why? What did you do?? she asked, wor r ied about what it would cost her.
?Uh ? nothing.? I lied. I couldn?t bear that kind of negative attention at the moment.
?Hon, that costs money, you know. The answer is no.?
Yes, because spending money on fr ivolous house decor and dinner par ties was such a better
use of it. But I didn?t say that. All that came out was a meek ?Okay.?
Going to school was str ange. It wasn?t the reaction I expected. Kids stopped In their tr acks
when I walked by. The room felt stuffy and freezing at the same time from the fear and discomfor t
that emanated from my peer s?unblinking eyes. Even my fr iends were obviously ter r ified behind a
layer of feigned fr iendliness.
I heard the people talking. I heard ever yone say something about me. Especially the ones who
thought that they were the best at hiding gossip.
On my car amel brown head sits a crown of long curls tightly wound and cover ing much of my
face. That, as I liked to imagine, was my bar r ier between peace and the unfor giving venom of gossip.
But that imaginar y wall had come cr umbling down, and it?s too late to rebuild.
10.
 ?You?re saying she hit the kid??
?She beat up the poor kid.?
?What a nut job.?
?Agreed.?
My mother was too busy to notice, so I didn?t bother her with it.
My fr iends were too afr aid to tell me to leave. It took a lot of being ignored and awkward
laughs to convince me that I was just invited to the par ty because I had to be. I could leave at any
time and nobody would say a word about it, and that?s just what I did. Now I had no fr iends. I was
falling into a pit of loneliness and all anyone did was help dig it deeper. That fear I felt was what I
thought was the wor st of it. I was proven ver y wrong.
A few days after the incident, I was confronted in front of the school building by a stout,
stubbled man in a pur ple t- shir t and baggy shor ts. This was little Jackson?s father.
?Are you Deana Wr ight?? He demanded an answer as he did a fast paced walk up to where I
stood on the school steps.
That was unfor tunately my name. I knew I was deep in it. Ever yone thought I went Hulk on
the kid and now the r umor s were about to become ten times wor se.
?You HURT MY KID Y??
That?s when my homeroom teacher bur st through the door s. ?Is something wrong, Mr.
Milton??
He looked at me, the teacher, then me again. Then he left.
That's when the fear in ever yone?s eyes melted away and now I was met my disgust. People
assumed that if Jackson?s father was so angr y, I must?ve really done something wrong. Nobody talked
about the fact that grown man had just har assed me. They thought he had the r ight. Maybe he did.
Maybe I really messed up.

I was sitting in the quiet of my room with my laptop when my mother entered and sat at the
foot of my bed. This was far from good. She never approached me like this unless I did something
wrong.
?We?ve been getting phone calls from Mr. Milton. Is there something you want to tell me??
Well, there were a lot of things, but I settled for ?I think you already know.?
?Don?t give me that tone,? she snapped, then added, ?There?s...there?s a boarding school in
Ver mont called Saint Abr aham. Does that sound like something that would suit you??
Oh my god. I couldn?t believe it. She?s shipping me away in fear of her own reputation.
Actually, I could believe it. But thinking about it now, I couldn?t just leave Dahlia.
?What about Dahlia?? I asked.
?We?re aware of the bullying and we?ve put her in a special after school progr am for bullied
youth age eight to twelve.?
I didn?t know progr ams like that existed. I did know that my mom was not going to take no for
an answer, so I decided to go. I was shipped off at the star t of the school?s second semester. It was
great to get away from my old school and my parents. I wasn?t known as the cr azy girl here.
When I came back for the summer I realized that people had for gotten. I got a few weird
glances but it was like it never happened. I was never looked at the same in that small town where
r umor s spread like wildfire.

11.
12.
13.
Love Let ter
By Leah K.

Dearest Mr. Singing Pants,

I adore you. There. I said it. As I?ve sat awake at night, contemplating your prepossessing
figure and outstanding mind, I?ve realized there are so many reasons why it would be my dream to
spend the rest of my days with you. Your heart-shaped face, the way it perfectly frames your
bulging, heavy-lidded green eyes and sallow, wrinkled skin. Your lips - so thin, surrounded by
pockmarks - like lots of tiny dimples. Your dull, oily, shiny hair really stands out from a crowd - I?d
be able to notice it anywhere. Your whiskered, pencil-thin mustache is really quite unique, and I
get butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. Your build is really something. Your angular
body really embraces the way you flop over whenever you?re sitting down, almost as if your body
was made to do that. The fabric which adorns your body - the burlap pants you wear and the
wool shirts look as comfortable as you would be in my arm. Your eyeglasses are perfect in every
way, shape, and form. I simply adore how large they are. I?m sure that they?ll enable you to see
how beautiful I am. Mr. Singing Pants, you see, being in a relationship may be a bit hard. W ith you
always singing, and me catching on fire so easily, it may be difficult to sustain a way of life where
we both are happy. But? we can make it work. I have faith, because I have survived sixty long
years catching on fire and surviving. W hen you think about that, you think, ?what isn?t possible??
Mr. Singing Pants, you are my inspiration. You are the reason I get up every morning. Please, just
give me a chance. I love you.

Love forever and always,

The Old Lady W ho Keeps Catching on Fire Across the Street, Hestia

The Journey
By Louise Stedman

Once there was a princess who was very lonely because she lived in a dark castle with no
friends except for a dog who slept most of the time. But one day, someone arrived at her front step
and asked her if she wanted to go to the ball with the prince and she said ?YES!?
But on the day of the ball, everything got stormy and her castle got struck by lightning. So
she had to go to a little cabin next door and that where she lived for 12 days. But then, she woke up
and it was a very sunny day and she had a feeling that it would be a great day. So she woke up and
she had a feeling that it was bright and sunny and then she got dressed and she walked, and
walked, and walked because she was on a journey to find a new kingdom for everyone.
She came to this big oak tree and she said, ?this would be a good place to make a
treehouse!?So she worked and worked and worked but when she went up to her treehouse there
was a coyote who had snuck up there and eaten all her hot dogs! So she walked and walked and
walked a long more time and she walked her dog but suddenly she found a friend who was named
Canthalwalker. But then the friend turned on her and they fought with swords but then it got sunny
and her friend, the vampire, disappeared. But then a coyote attacked her but she wasn?t afraid and
walked along and came to a shed. She thought she was walking in circles, but then she realized
there were just a lot of sheds in the woods. And she slept overnight except her dog was missing
when she woke up but she found him on the top of the shed, and he was ready for a good day! It
was the first time he was ready for the day!
But she found that there was an angry monkey that was about to attack her dog (named
Shnoozlehead). She fought the monkey and the monkey became her friend because the monkey
wasn?t trying to attack the dog, he was trying to take his lunch and step over the dog. She walked
with the monkey to a palace and they claimed her the new queen. But suddenly, a very bad guy
came to the palace and said, ?I want to kidnap the queen?and so he did.
Luckily the monkey saved her but the monkey got a bad scar. Then they came to a really
nice oak tree and built another treehouse like the one before but this one didn?t have any coyotes,
just a chipmunk who became their friend. And she became the new queen of Shnoozleberry town
and everyone loved her. THE END
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
Igatha & Eliza
By Caroline Cole

15 year s ago
?Please, Elar a! She?s just a kitten. Give her back!? Eliza Rosen yelled, chasing after her older sister. Elar a
smirked.
?No. I don?t think I will,? she said, clutching the scared grey kitten tightly. Eliza just stared at her older
sister. She wondered why she was the one that was picked on out of her eight sister s. Maybe it was because
she was the littlest. Eliza was under- aver age for size, and her sister s liked to take advantage of that, especially
Elar a. But it was most likely because of her constant for giveness. You could do whatever you wanted with her
and she would for give you and not peep a word to anyone. Elar a beamed at the sight of Eliza?s confused face.
Her pr ank was going off without a hitch. ?Come and get your kitty- cat,? Elar a teased. She then threw the
kitten out the window in one swift motion. ?Wilhelmina!? Eliza yelled, chasing after her kitten, tr ying to save
her from cer tain doom. Elar a just laughed.

3 year s ago
Eliza smiled and lovingly touched her wedding gown. In just a few moments she would be mar r ied to Jim.
Eliza had loved Jim from the beginning. This could be one of the happiest days of her life. Eliza tur ned around
and smiled at her second oldest sister, Ella, who was her matron of honor. Eliza was going to have Elar a do it,
but Jim insisted that she would do something spiteful. That was most likely tr ue of Elar a. The wedding music
played, and the door s opened. All of Eliza?s sister s filed out to take their seats. Eliza could see Ella slowly
making her walk down the aisle. She could feel her father, Colin Rosen, take her ar m, tired eyes shining with
pr ide. The or gan changed tunes. It was playing ?Here Comes the Br ide?. Eliza took a deep breath and began to
walk in time with her father. Ever yone shuffled in their expensive clothes and the pews creaked as they stood.
Eliza br iefly looked out at the audience, spotting a girl with dir ty blonde hair and green eyes, probably one of
Emer ald?s daughter s, with her sister next to her. Eliza could only hear this commotion. Her eyes were on Jim,
who looked emotional. She was only half aware of her father giving her away. She glanced at Elar a, who
looked tense, like she was planning something. But it was just her imagination. Eliza slowly stepped in front of
Jim and held his hands. The minister opened his mouth to speak. Just then, Eliza heard a strong voice that
yelled, ?I object to this mar r iage!? Eliza gasped and tur ned her head. Elar a had stood up and faced her. The
crowd broke out in a mur mur of voices. Jim stepped for ward, ready to punch Elar a, but Eliza held him back.
The minister looked confused. Eliza?s mind reeled with thoughts. Of cour se Elar a had r uined ever ything.
Elar a smiled at the commotion and continued, ?Eliza doesn?t deser ve Jeremy. She is young and weak. She
never deser ved anything. Eliza knows this. If she knows her self, she will for give me and follow me out the
door,? Eliza thought as she stood there, cr ying. Perhaps Elar a was r ight. She was young. Maybe she didn?t
know. Elar a stepped out into the aisle. Eliza looked back at Jim and r an out of the chapel door in tear s.

Present Day
Eliza sighed and checked the old clock above the mantlepiece. Five minutes. Five minutes until the
cleaning lady was supposed to leave. No cleaning lady had come to Eliza?s house today. Go figure. Last time
she had come, Eliza had insisted on helping, which drove the cleaning lady cr azy. Eliza knew that she
wouldn?t come back, but it would be so nice if she did. Company was a r are gift for Eliza Rosen. She may have
eight sister s, but they never bothered to visit. They never liked her all that much. Eliza lifted her eyes to the
clock just as the hour hand moved to the twelve. Goodbye cleaning lady. Eliza sighed again at the cold
disappointment. She could hardly be cheered up these days. Eliza felt a br ush of fur against her leg as an old
grey cat r ubbed its fur r y face against her leg. Eliza smiled. ?Hey, Willie?, Eliza said kindly, scr atching the grey
cat behind the ear s. Wilhelmina responded with a pur r. As Eliza picked up her cat, she wondered what she
would do without Wilhelmina for company. She really did have nine lives. She had escaped sever al near- death
exper iences. In their early year s, Eliza?s sister Elar a often tar geted the cat for demonstr ations on her
author ity. Memor ies flooded Eliza?s mind in that moment. Eliza tr ied to push the invading thoughts away. Yet
still, a remember ing tear came to her eye.

Igatha
One would not say that Igatha McFear son was scar y. They would say that she was completely and
20.
utterly ter r ifying. Igatha had jet black hair and always dressed in mellow black, the color of her mood. She
never smiled unless to smirk at the unfor tunate, and had shar p, pointed features. Her house was r amshackle,
and in her yard, tor ture devices were scattered ever ywhere. Her mean hairless cat, Phar aoh, often lurked
around there, hissing and spitting. Igatha believed in punishment forever, and never renounced the old
tor tuous ways of life she used to know. If anyone touched her they would be expected to fester in a tor ture
device for at least a half hour. As you can imagine, Igatha hardly ever got visitor s. She kept to her self, power
walking around her house and feeling the pain of loneliness.
One day, Igatha was feeling par ticularly bored. It was a Monday, and there was nothing to do but stare
at the Victor ian house next door, where a sad- looking woman lived alone. ?If only I could punish her for no
reason,? Igatha thought out loud. Anyone who was so forlor n looking should be punished. It was only
reasonable. She sat up str aighter. What a pleasant Monday.

Eliza
The giant or ange circle of the sun slowly dipped behind the far thest hill. Eliza watched this dreamily.
She looked around for Wilhelmina, but couldn?t find her in her usual spot on the bed. ?Oh, well,? Eliza
thought, dismissing any wor r ies, ?It?s a big house.? But when over twenty minutes later, Eliza?s cat was still
absent, Eliza began to wor r y. It wasn?t like Wilhelmina to be gone for such a long time. That was when the
doorbell r ang. Eliza?s hear t began to r ace. Was Wilhelmina hur t? Eliza r an down the stair s two at a time and
opened the front door into the night. On the porch stood Igatha McFear son, the ter r ifying woman next door.
This sight sur pr ised Eliza, and she did a double take. To see Igatha on your door step was quite out of the
ordinar y. She was ver y antisocial, and had no fr iends.
?Good evening, Miss Rosen,? Igatha said coldly.
?Madam, I?m sor r y, but now is not a ver y good time for pleasantr ies. My cat is lost, and I have to find
her. Do you have news of her ?? Eliza said shakily, stutter ing on some words.
?Fear not. Your cat is being punished for nothing at all. I decreed it,? Igatha responded, feeling no
emotion at all.
Eliza?s face contor ted into one of immense panic. No. It couldn?t be. Ever ything had been taken from
her. Why would someone take her cat, her only joy? ?M- madam, please, I will do anything, just please br ing
my cat back to me,? Eliza stuttered to Igatha. Igatha snor ted in laughter. ?Never,? she said confidently, ?I will
br ing back your cat when I am satisfied with the situation. For give me, my dear.? Eliza opened her mouth to
for give before the door was slammed in her face. In her mind, Eliza tr ied to muster the strength to for give
Igatha, but it was hard to for give someone who had taken your only love from you. Eliza forced her self to get
up and keep living life without her cat.

Igatha
As Igatha slammed Eliza?s door behind her, a smug smile came to her face. Of cour se Eliza would
for give her. It would be laughable to see the look on her face when she uttered her famous words. Igatha?s
yard was coming into view now. She smiled at all of her precious tor ture devices from when she was a
professional executioner. Cutting of people?s heads was satisfying for Igatha. Igatha pushed open her old,
creaky door and stepped into your dust- filled house. She took her usual alcove seat and watched Eliza?s
house. All the lights were off. Cur ious. As Eliza watched for ten more minutes, she became bored. She tr ied to
think of what to do. The house that Eliza lived in looked so inviting. Maybe she could do a little bit of spying to
see Eliza?s reaction. Besides, what was a few more minutes out of the house? Igatha leaped up, enthusiastic,
and nearly r an all the way to Eliza?s Victor ian house. She was adept at picking locks, a skill she had acquired
over the year s, so she decided to pick the front door lock with her black hair pin. She succeeded, and the front
door creaked open. Igatha tiptoed in and closed the door behind her. Her eyes were immediately dr awn to a
table that hosted three picture fr ames by the stair s. Igatha tiptoed up to look at the fr ames. The fir st fr ame
showed a young- looking Eliza and a dark- haired man with twinkling eyes. The man had his ar m around Eliza,
and Eliza?s head was thrown back, laughing. She looked so ver y happy, not forlor n at all. One name was
engr aved at the bottom of the wooden fr ame: Jim. It showed the happiness of another time. Igatha could not
help feeling emotion when she looked at the picture. What happened to Jim? Was Eliza mar r ied to him? Igatha
shook her head and moved on to the next fr ame. This one showed a ver y young Eliza, around five year s old,
cr adling a grey kitten. Wilhelmina. Of cour se. That cat sure meant a lot to Eliza. Igatha shuddered at the
thought of the cat silently waiting in the blackout box, ready to be hanged. For emotion?s sake, Igatha did not
21.
dwell on that picture long. She moved on. And a wall of emotion hit her. This picture was lying on its side, the
glass protecting the image having cr acked. There was a water spot in the middle, blur r ing the background.
The picture showed a family of eleven, with ver y tired parents and daughter s of ever y shape and size. Nine of
them. The tallest daughter had a smug smile on her face, her ar m on the shoulder of the youngest girl, who
looked sad. Eliza. Igatha never knew that Eliza had eight sister s. Also scattered on the table were two letter s,
wr itten hur r iedly on yellowing paper that had a hotel logo on it. Cur iosity overcame Igatha, so she picked up
the fir st letter and began to read:

Dear Elara,
Yes, I forgive you for what you did at my wedding. Who wouldn?t? You have always been right, I know that. You
surely are this time. Besides, I couldn?t just stand there. You have my love and forgiveness.
Love,
Lizie

Igatha stared at the letter in disbelief. What had this per son, Elar a, done at Eliza?s wedding? Igatha almost
clawed for the other letter, and read with r apt interest.

Dear Eliza,
I think of you often. I know that you have forgiven your sister for what she has done, but for me it is unforgivable.
She has ruined your life many times over, why more? After one failed wedding, I can?t bear to have another.
Perhaps, when you learn to not always forgive, I will marry you.
All my love,
Jim

Igatha read over the letter again. It all made sense now. Elar a, Eliza?s sister, had sabotaged a wedding
between Eliza and Jim. And Eliza had for given her. Agatha's mind reeled. How? How could Eliza possibly
for give her sister for sabotaging her wedding? Jim wasn?t wor th it, not liking Eliza for who she was. Igatha
threw down the letter and began to search the house, hungr y for more relics of the past. In the family room,
there was a long fr ame that held pictures of all Eliza?s sister s with their names beneath. All of the names
star ted with the letter E. Elar a, Ella, Emer ald, Emily, Enilda, Er ika, Evelyn, Evanna, and Eliza. They all had the
same golden hair. Igatha smiled. Then she heard footsteps on the stair s. The end of Eliza?s nightgown
emer ged. Igatha tr ied to r un, but she was rooted to the spot. When Eliza saw Igatha, her face fell. But she
walked down the stair s and met her.
?I would like to for give you for this, but it?s hard?, Eliza said softly, ?I?m getting to the point where I feel
that for giveness doesn?t get me anywhere.?
Igatha nodded and said, ?I?m sor r y, I was just poking around and I saw some things? . you are free to
punish me.? Eliza just shook her head and looked up at the pictures of her sister s. She chuckled a little and
said, ?Emer ald, she had the most stunning green eyes, and Nildy, her real name is Enilda, she was hilar ious. I
can remember the pr anks she used to pull. Evanna, well, she snored a lot. It was agony, I shared a bed with
her. And there is Elar a.? Eliza stopped, memor ies coming back, ?Well, she was a char acter.? Igatha gave Eliza a
half smile, to show that she under stood. She under stood ever ything. Why would she want to punish Eliza for
no reason? She was sad enough on her own. Igatha made her choice. ?Eliza, I am so sor r y?, she said sadly. ?I?ll
br ing back your cat, I promise. I?ll tr y to fix things.? Eliza smiled. ?Thank you Madam McFear son?, she said, ?I
hope we can become good fr iends. My for giveness is gone. It?s in the past. Now I am a new per son. I?ll live in
the present.? Igatha smiled at Eliza. And Eliza was tr uly happy for the fir st time in year s

22.
23.
Nick's Talent
By Mehr Gur ung

Nick was a good kid. He listened to his dad; he loved his dad. One thing he didn't like about his dad
was that he forced Nick to do some things he didn't like to do like soccer. His dad wanted him to become a
soccer player, a champion, and compete. Nick would always get hur t, but always had the ur ge to play the
piano. He listened to piano music ver y often. He asked his dad to sign him up for piano lessons, but he always
said ?No!?
One day Nick asked his dad ?Dad, can I please play the piano? Just give me one shot!? He just shook his
head.
?How many times have I told you? No! You'll play soccer. Piano is only for girls!?
Nick star ted ar guing. ?But dad! I don't like soccer. I want to play piano. I just want to do what makes
me happy!?
?No, Nick.? His dad said, star ting to get fr ustr ated.
Nick r an to his room in fr ustr ation, thumped up the stair s, and jumped on his bed. ?Ugh! I just want to
play the piano.? Nick put on a classical piano song to calm himself.
?Ugh, stupid piano music?, Nick's father muttered as he got their dinner ready.
Nick wanted to be like his gr andfather ; a piano player and songwr iter. Nick?s gr andfather lived five
blocks away from him. When he was little and visiting his gr andfather, he would cr awl up into the little piano
seat and bang on the keys for fun. His gr andfather would laugh. Gr andfather was sweet, loving, and car ing,
just like a gr andfather should be. He always cared for Nick when he came to visit.
Nick?s parents were divorced. His mother had r un off somewhere when he was little. He didn't even
get to see her. Nick always wondered if his mother would let him play piano. Maybe she would've let him play.
Then an idea str uck him, like thunder in a stor m. He would sneak out of his house to his gr andfather ?s
early in the mor nings on Saturdays, and ask him if he could teach him!
?That's genius!? He thought with a smile.
?Dinner !? his dad called.
Nick tr udged down the stair s for dinner. He was star ving. Dinner was awkward and silent, until Nick
said ?Dad, I'm sor r y for yelling at you? ?
?It's fine, Nick. We all do it.?
?Ok? said Nick. Once dinner was over, Nick took his plate and glasses and put them into the sink.
The next mor ning, was Saturday. Nick woke up at 6:00 AM.
?Time to put my plan in action!? he thought. He took a quick shower, br ushed his teeth, and got
changed. He quietly snuck down to the kitchen where he could hear his father ?s loud snor ing. His father liked
to sleep in late on Saturdays, so Nick had enough time. He took an ener gy bar from the cabinet and bit into it.
It tasted foul. He spit it out, then headed out the door.
It was still dark, and Nick was a bit scared, but he kept going. He wondered what his dad would do if
he found out Nick had snuck out. Nick didn?t want to get in trouble, so he star ted to tur n his back, but then he
thought, ?this is for my own good.?
He walked a few blocks, took a r ight, and saw his gr andfather 's house. When he reached the house, he
sighed with relief. The lights were off and the house looked dark and empty.
He walked up onto the stone steps and quietly knocked on the door. He waited for a few minutes and
then saw a figure. The door handle star ted to tur n, the door opened, and he saw his gr andfather. ?Nick, what
are you doing here? It?s so early!? Nick told his gr andfather about how we wanted to play the piano, but how
his father didn't want him to.
?Oh poor you! I'll teach you to your hear t's content until you?re happy!?
Nick laughed, ?Thanks Gr andpa! You're the best!? He gave him a hug. ?This will be our little secret!? Nick
smiled.
?Come on in!? said his gr andfather.
?Wait, before I play? can I have some breakfast?? Nick asked. ?I didn't get to eat this mor ning.? His
stomach growled.
?Of cour se.? His gr andfather chuckled. He had made double chocolate chip pancakes! Nick gobbled
them down as if he had never eaten before.
?Woah, slow down? his gr andfather said while laughing, ?you're going to choke.?
24.
 ?Ok!? Nick said with a smile, his mouth stuffed full of pancakes.
When he was done eating, his gr andfather led him to the piano. Nick eyed it. It was black, sleek, and
shiny, and it even smelled of fresh wood. Nick?s gr andfather was a clean guy. His Gr andfather sat down at the
piano. Then Nick sat down. Gr andfather told Nick about the letter s, the symbols, the piano chords, and more.
His gr andfather played a few notes and then Nick tr aced them. They played for three hour s and had already
finished two beginner songs. Nick felt proud of himself. He dr agged his finger down the keyboard and played
all the notes. Nick loved playing the flats. He added in a few regular notes to spice up his song.
?You?re really good so far ? his gr andfather said.
Soon enough it was time to go home. Nick had had a lot of fun, he wanted to do more, but he couldn't
r isk getting caught.
?Thanks Gr andpa! I'll come again.?
?Okay my boy! Be safe walking!?
?Okay? Nick said. He waved and walked out the door. Out of the blue, it star ted to r ain. Nick r aced
down the street. If he came home soaking wet, his father would know that he had been out somewhere! When
he reached the door, he silently opened it. Then, to his hor ror, he saw his dad standing in the kitchen. ?Hey,
Nick. Where were you?? his dad asked.
?Uh? um? I- I was at Ethan's house? uh? pr acticing soccer ?? He eyed his dad ner vously.
?Okay? That's good. You can do that again next week if he allows it.?
?Ok, um? thanks.?
?Now I can play!? Nick thought. He r an up to his room and sat on the bed. His dad walked in and the
hair s on his neck and ar ms stood up.
?Hey! Just wanted to say that you have soccer pr actice tonight from 6 to 7.?
?Okay? Nick said with a fake smile. As his dad walked out of the room, he bur ied his head in the pillow
and groaned.
At 6, Nick was dr iven to soccer pr actice. His dad usually watched him, so this time he would have to
put in effor t after he said he had been pr acticing with Ethan. Nick especially didn't like that the boys who
were ?really good? teased and picked on him. He just ignored it.
He was usually exhausted when he got home from soccer. All the r unning and kicking wasn't his thing.
He flopped on his bed and realized he stank. He got into the shower, and as the water flowed through his hair,
he thought about next Saturday and his lesson with Gr andpa. As the school days passed by, the weekend was
coming soon. Nick could barely wait to play the piano. It was so much fun for him.
Nick was walking home with his best fr iend Daniel who lived two blocks away.
?Hey, are you going to watch the soccer champions game?? Daniel asked. ?I'm rooting for the
Manchester United?s!? he said with a goofy smile.
Nick hesitated, ?nah, I got better um.. things to do.?
?What?? Daniel asked. ?What what whatttt! Please tell me!? he pleaded, with puppy eyes.
Nick rolled his eyes. ?UGH! Fine. But I'm only telling you because you're my best fr iend.?
?Yes!? Daniel said quietly.
Nick told him about how his father wouldn?t let him play the piano, and that he was sneaking out to his
gr andfather 's house to lear n how.
?Whoa, dude. That?s weird. In a good way.?
?Thanks? Nick said. ?It's just that? I haven't gotten my father 's approval yet, and I don't feel
comfor table.?
?Don't wor r y. If you like piano and want to lear n, go for it!?
?Right!? Nick said.
When Nick got home, he thought ?Daniel is a good fr iend. I can tr ust him.?
Over the next few Saturdays, Nick had his fair share of lying, excuses, soccer pr actice, and school.
?You?re lear ning so fast!? his gr andfather exclaimed.
These piano lessons weren?t ner ve wr acking for Nick because he had grown much more confident.
?Alr ighty, Nick. We?re going to star t a more advanced, harder song. I bet you?ll really like it? Gr andpa said, as
he walked over to his file cabinet. Gr andpa looked through his old piano songs, like a dog tr ying to find
something. To pass time, Nick played some chords. Then Gr andpa pulled out an old looking paper with a few
small r ips. He set it down on the ledge of the piano.
?Fur Elise? Nick read.
25.
 ?I?ll show you how it goes? Gr andpa said. He sat on the piano seat, set his finger s in position, and
played.
As he listened, Nick thought it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. ?I'm ready to lear n this
one!? Nick said with pr ide.
Over the next two months, Nick had lear ned almost the whole song. Then one night, Nick's father
star ted to get suspicious. He wondered if Nick was really going where he said he was. He decided to call
Ethan's dad, Paul.
?Hello? Paul?? Nick's father asked.
?Ahhh! Hey, Chr is! What?s up?? Paul said.
?I was just wonder ing if Nick has been coming to your house on Saturday mor nings to play soccer with
Ethan? he asked, r ubbing his beard.
?Huh?? Paul said. ?Oh no he hasn?t been um? coming to our house. Sor r y!?
Chr is?s eyebrows nar rowed. ?Thanks? he said.
?Anytime. Bye, Chr is? Paul said.
Chr is hung up. ?Where could Nick be going?? he thought.
The next Saturday, Chr is followed Nick as quietly as possible.
* snap* Chr is had stepped on a twig. ?Oh geez!? he whispered- shouted.
Nick jerked his head, but his father had hid behind a bush before he could catch him.
?Probably just a squir rel? Nick mur mured.
Nick had walked about 3 blocks before Chr is figured out where he was going. His father 's house. When
Nick got to his gr andfather 's house, he was welcomed in with a smile. Chr is watched as Nick and his father
sat down at the piano, talked, chatted, and laughed. He could see how happy they were.
He watched as they played the piano. It seemed like a nice song.
?What am I doing? Why didn't I let him play?? Chr is thought guiltily. ?He?s happy playing the piano?
Chr is went in.
Nick had begun playing the star t of ?Fur Elise?. All of a sudden, the doorknob tur ned and he saw his
father.
?Dad?!? What are you doing here?!? Nick thought he was going to be dead meat.
?Nick, you?re really good!? his father said.
Nick looked shocked. ?You really think so??
?Yes!? he said.
?I thought you didn't want me to play!? Nick said.
?I'm sor r y that I didn't let you play. And I?m sor r y that I yelled and forced you to play soccer.?
?Oh, Dad. It's okay.? Nick hugged him. ?I'm sor r y that I lied to you, but I for give you for not letting me
play.?
?Thanks. I for give you too.? Nick's dad said.
?He's really good at the piano so far !? his gr andfather exclaimed. They all laughed.
?Let me hear you play? Nick's dad said.
?Okay!? Nick said. He played all the songs he knew.
?Wow! You?re really good!? said his dad.
?Thanks!? Nick said with a smile.
Over the next few year s, Nick became great at the piano. He tr aveled around the world, played for
many people, and he loved it. He became just like his gr andpa, a famous, songwr iting, piano player.
?I'm proud of you? his father said.

26.
Abe Meet s t he Queen
By Rachel Alpert-W isnia

Hi. Honest Abe here. Today, I am venturing to Queen Elisabeth?s castle. After I gathered my
sack of supplies, I began to walk through the woods. I hiked for hours, my legs ached with pain. I
pushed forward to take my step, and my knee buckles. My head crashes onto the dirt ground, my
top hat falls off of my bald head and I feel it settle in the leaves. My long beard quivers as I
screeched out in pain. As if my day couldn?t get any worse, an angry man white man appeared
before my eyes, He glared at my limp body, squinted his eyes. ?Lincoln??he muttered, ?You gave
my slaves freedom!?He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a revolver. I stare in horror as
he screams. ?Die!?he says, and pulls the trigger. My chest aches, I press my hands to my torso.
Warm, wet liquid seeps from my injury. W ith my last breath, I barely make out the sentence I?ve
dreamed of being my last words since I was a wee lad. ?Toodles,?I whisper, my eyes closing. I see
a flash of light, my mother stand before me. Her hand reaches to me, and an invisible force
pushes me to her. I clench her hand, and darkness fills my vision.
I float from his dead, still body. The fresh air finally fills my dead soul. Thank god, I?ve been
surviving off of the darkness in Lincoln?s soul for 40 years! I?ve never felt so alive. That?s probably
because I?m a dead man?s ghost. I float towards the castle, the fresh air breezing my lips. I glide in
the air. I reach the door and sneak in when the guards open the door for a rather plump looking
mime. I float down the halls, in awe of the beauty. Suddenly, I spot the Queen! I gasp, my eyes
gifted with the beautiful sight of her everlasting charmingness. The mime kneels before her. ?I
have a joke,?she says poshly. ?W hy did the chicken cross the playground? To get to the other
slide!?she says, grinning. I can?t help myself, and I let out a huge laugh. I cringe at how ugly it
sounded. Suddenly, dozens of guards and knights are staring my way. How can they see me?
?W ho did that??one tough-looking knight said deeply. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping it?s all but a
dream. Silly me, ghosts can?t sleep! I fly out of the castle, my invisible legs dashing on the air. I fly
far, far away. Currently, I?m stuck in an old lady?s attic. Please help me get out of here, it?s boarded
down with pounds and pounds of old lady wallpaper.

Glass Island Journey

By Louise Stedman

One day there was a girl named Clarice and she was a curious girl? just about 12 years old and
she had always wanted to know what was on Glass Island. She lived near Peel Town smack dab in
the middle of nowhere. So one day she found all the rulers and stuck them together with
silly-putty until it became a boat. So she packed her dog, Mountshnoogalator, and set off for the
adventure. She had practiced rowing boats on quadruple day, which means three hours = one
hour. So she hit this big monster and she was ready to fight but suddenly he said, ?I?m not bad, I?m
the good monster?and he brought them to Glass Island. ?You have arrived at your destination.?
They went and they saw all these rainbow cows and this one old man who was making glass and
feeding it to the cows, who were farting out rainbows. That?s why there were so many rainbows in
the sky. She thought to herself, ?it would be wonderful to live here but I gotta go.?The old man
said, ?Take some rainbow glass as a souvenir. Visit any time, just don?t tell anybody else or Glass
Island will sink.?On her way back, it felt like such a long time because she had so much to think
about, but it was only a few minutes. His dog barked with the glass in his mouth and he, too,
farted out rainbows.

A Poor Guy Named Walker

By Isabella Lazaro-Gere

Once upon a time there was a guy named Walker. He was a camp counselor and he loved it!
Every day got better and better each day, but then he got fired. And he was so sad he was
miserable for a couple of weeks, until he found out he was still allowed on campus grounds as a
former counselor. It wasn?t the same, but he could live with it.
The End
27.
28.
29.
30.
The Tale Of Me
By Henry Thacher

Once there was somebody whose name was ?Me?. Due to a genetic mutation, he actually
had a tail. This is the tale of him and his tail.
Me liked strawberries and frenemies. He lived in a building made out of the heads of serial
chainsaw murderers. However, even though he was rich, he wanted more. He wanted? *pause for
dramatic effect* a snack and a girlfriend. So he went and found someone who was giving a
woman an apple.
?A yummy apple for a yummy woman,?Me thought. So he took them both and ate the apple.
This angered the woman, however, and she murdered him and lived happily ever after. Until, of
course, the police caught up with her.
I hope you have enjoyed ?The Tale Of Me?. If you liked this, look for more things by Henry
Thacher! I promise you will like them. This is not actually a binding agreement.

31.
A 14th Bir thday
By Sadie Rothstein

Today was a ver y special day, well for me at least. Today was my 14th bir thday. Four teenth bir thdays
are ver y special where I come from. On your 14th bir thday, you can wish for one thing and it will come tr ue. I
already knew what I would wish for. I was going to wish for special power s. Wishing for power s wasn't
uncommon; my best fr iend Sylvia could control the weather and my older sister Jackie had water power s.
I pulled my dir ty blonde hair into a br aid over my shoulder and put on a light green dress that
matched my eyes. I slipped on some gold flats and walked down the stair s. At the bottom, I tur ned around the
cor ner towards the kitchen. I walked over to the table and sat in my usual spot. Mom had made french toast,
my favor ite breakfast. I gr abbed a plate of french toast and poured myself a glass of or ange juice.
"Happy bir thday, Rose!" Mom exclaimed with a huge smile in her face. "Dad is still at work but he'll be
home by lunch."
Just then Jackie walked down the stair s. "Happy bir thday, Rosie" Jackie said as she poured her self a
glass of milk.
"Don't call me Rosie!" I complained.
"Whatever you want, Rosie." She said, smirking.
I crossed my ar ms and glared at her back for a little while before going back to eating. After I finished
breakfast I stood up to go meet my fr iends Sylvia and Eve by the old oak tree on top of the hill.
"Bye, mom," I called as I walked out the door.
"Make sure you are back in time for lunch so you can finish setting up for your par ty," she replied.
I nodded and r an up the pathway into the center of town and took a r ight tur n by the book store. I r an
up the hill towards the tree. By the time I got there Sylvia and Eve were already there, each holding a gift.
"Happy bir thday!" They yelled in unison.
They each gave me a big hug and gave me their gifts. Eve had gotten me a char m br acelet and Sylvia
gave me a pair of owl ear r ings. (Owls are my favor ite animal.)
"Thanks, guys!" I exclaimed happily.
We spent the next two hour s talking and playing games and then it was lunch. I said goodbye to Eve
and Sylvia and walked back home. When I got there mom had already put out lunch. Dad was sitting in his
chair, eating a turkey sandwich. He, Mom and Jackie were talking about my par ty. They looked up when I
walked into the room.
"Happy bir thday!" Dad said with a smile on his face.
"Thanks, dad." I said as I gr abbed myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Soon after I finished lunch, Mom called me outside to help set up for the par ty. We spent the rest of
the after noon setting up and soon it was time for the par ty. Eve was the fir st guest to ar r ive and Sylvia came
soon after. Once all the guests were here, Mom and Dad brought out the food. After ever yone had eaten, it
was time for the cake. As mom brought out the cake and ever yone star ted singing, I looked at the flicker ing
flames.
"Is this really happening?" I thought.
I looked up and my light green eyes met my mother 's emer ald green eyes. People always told her she
had eyes just like her mother, my gr andma Emer ald. Mom always says eyes can show emotion; r ight now her
eyes were shining with happiness.
She put the cake down as the crowd finished singing. I closed my eye and took a deep breath. I thought
hard about my wish and in a blink of an eye, I blew out the candles. Wind sur rounded me and lifted me up in
the air by a few inches. I focused on going up and it happened. I was now about five feet above the crowd. I
looked down at their sur pr ised faces. I couldn't believe it either, but it was tr ue: I was flying.

32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
Cary, t he Career Ruiner
By Isabella Lazaro-Gere

Once upon a time, there was a person named Cary. She had a good life. It was not the best and it
was not the worst; it was neutral ? but then her pet alligator died ? but then she got over it. Then
her life was neutral again ? but then there was a war and lots of her chinchillas were killed. But
then she became a selfish popstar and killed everyone else so she would be the best popstar of
all time. THE END!!

39.
40.
41.
42.
43.