A Vicious Darkness Within

White Wolf:

The snow crunches beneath her paws as she laboriously pushes forward in the storm. Forest trees surround her in the dark, her silver fur glints under the crescent moon, her eye sharp and gray, cunning like the edge of a blade, cruel, like the taunting glint of a diamond one cannot have. Marred flesh cover the spot where her other eye used to be, a reminder of the past that never seems to go away. She is blinded by the ice cold rain, slicing into her back like a million tiny hooks piercing through her skin. She stumbles in the snow, her stick-thin limbs unable to hold her own weight, and the hooks on her back pull, yank, dragging jagged lines across her back. She focuses her eyes on the village she is heading to, pushing through the pain and fatigue and slowly, painstakingly, making her way towards the brightly glowing dot in the distance.

She turns to look back at where she came from, her pawprints already disappearing in the snow. Once again, she starts to doubt her decision, glancing at the empty spaces beside her. If her wolf pack were here then they would help her up when she stumbles, lend her a hand and lead her to safety. Together. If her wolf pack were here then they would help her up, only to push her back down, harder, lend her a hand with a gentle smile and lead her to the edge of a cliff. They would watch with a wicked grin as she topples over, plummeting into the welcoming arms of death, down and down until her body hits the jagged rocks below, her bones splintered, her scarlet blood splattered onto the slick rocks. And then the ocean would do its work and the waves would wash her away, cleaning up the mess, already forgotten.

At least this is what she would do. Push yourself up so you can push others down. Rise before they rise before you. Rise, and to rise alone. The whispers giggle in her head, tiny claws sinking into her brain, poisoning it with a shade not quite black. However, the whispers are the only voices she has heard in days, and their invisible presence is a burden that lifts her up instead of weighing her down.

Nearby, a frozen bush rustles. The white wolf swivels her head in that direction. She hears the sound of snow crunching under paw or feet, and the soft, panicked breaths from her victim…or are there more than one? Her sharp gray eye twitches, and she silently stalks towards the bush. Her hind legs bend, ready for action.

A blur of animal skin darts away from the bush. The desperation for food gives her a burst of energy, and the wolf strikes. Aiming for the neck, her sharp claws piercing through the layers of leather and into its soft skin. She realizes that it was a young girl hiding behind the bush, now skewered by her claws, her screams echoing through the dark, silent night. The girl has silver hair that shines under the moonlight, shifting like the shadows. But what surprises the white wolf the most are the angry red scars covering the skin where her left eye used to be. She looks just like me.

The girl’s friend, the other noise from the bush, manages to get away, desperately running and screaming back towards the village, already forgetting his dying friend. This is what friends do: They leave you behind and cast you out when you need them the most, the whispers giggle excitedly, Go on, finish the job!

The white wolf looks into the girl’s dull gray eye, already draining of life, filled with terror and stupid hope that she will live. The wolf steels her heart, flicking away the silver of vulnerability that had claimed her earlier, then sinks her fangs in the soft flesh of the girl’s neck. She feels the veins and arteries burst as she bites, the sweet, warm trickle of blood running into her mouth. She can’t deny the satisfaction, the delicious smell of blood in the middle of ice.

The white wolf watches as the girl’s bright blue eyes go vacant, their luster dimmed. She could feel the girl’s heartbeat slowing until there is nothing but silence in the dark night. She is once again alone. Good.

The white wolf then drags the body out of the woods, towards the village. Yessss, you did it. Now you can show them who is in control, the whispers say. The wolf grins, and the vengeful darkness in her heart churns, the chittering of the whispers louder, pushing her forward, as she takes step after step, each one closer to ultimate justice revenge.

Once upon a time, a white wolf had a family, a lover, and a pack of friends. Then they betrayed her, and she destroyed them all. The white wolf stopped before the village, let go of the body in her mouth, tilted her head back and howled, long and great and filled with hatred and fury. Now the villagers know. Know she is the enemy, the beast let out of its cage. She is the White Wolf, and she is not afraid.

*          *          *

Once upon a time, there was a little girl and a little boy who were best friends forever. The little girl once had golden hair and blue eyes before they took it from her, stole her left eye and gave her silver hair. The little boy was unmarked, smooth and beautiful and normal. They grew up together in a cozy village surrounded by the great forest in the South, and the unfathomable ocean in the North. They would always pretend to be magical hunters in the woods, running around, giggling with their sticks as swords, their stones as fireballs. On one unfortunate night, the girl and the boy were playing in the woods, but this time it was different, there was a colder chill in the air. Something was wrong. They hid behind a bush, hoping whatever it was, it would go away soon. For a second, it seems as if their hoping had worked, but then the beast strikes, sinking its claws into the girl’s chest, her screams piercing through the night. The attacker was a huge white wolf with a shining silver coat and one eye, it’s vicious fangs gleaming under the moonlight. Out of terror and disbelief, the little boy got up and ran, too afraid to meet his friend’s dying pleading gaze. Later that night, the wolf emerged from the forest, with the dead girl with silver hair and one eye in its jaws, its eyes two veiled storms of hatred and fury. The wolf drops the girl carelessly to the ground before the village, tilts it’s head up and howled, long and great and filled with hatred and fury. Now the villagers know, know the white wolf who killed the monster marked girl. Now they will build a wall around the village, to keep the monsters out, and the children in.

-The Wall Around the Village, an ancient folktale

White Wolf:

The reflection of a whole moon flickers and rolls on the glassy surface of the ocean, sifting with the gentle waves. The night is without stars, the utter blackness of night overwhelming. Dreary clouds drift lazily over the moon, leaving only the outline visible. Stray fragments of light peeking out from the clouds color the night a hazy gray. A lone wolf sits still on the rocky seashore, her glazed eye fixed on the hidden moon. Her silver coat gleams under the light, ever shifting in a million shades of gray.

Deep inside her mind, darkness rises and pools on the clean white tiles of the floor. It is a dark liquid, not quite black, but in-between the shades of gray. The darkness slowly rises, the puddle quickly turning into a river, flooding the hallway. Rings of water expand on the surface as the whispers pound on the doors, their hushed voices taunting: Let us out! Don’t let them in! The doors quiver. The whispers chitter excitedly, waiting for the moment of release. They keep going. Why do you care about them? Fool. We were here for you when they were not. We encouraged you when they pushed you down. So let us out! Let us out! The door splinters, the whispers are almost free. Their screaming overlap one another, the noise bounces off of the walls, every door in the hallway breaking, giving in to the whispers’ demand.

Meanwhile, the darkness flooding the hallway still rises, threatening to drown their screaming. The hallways are now filled with screeches, a mix of wailing and moaning and the anguished sound of suffering. The soundtrack of old memories meant buried deep in the hallways, lost with the turns and dead ends, sealed up tight with 3 doors and 13 locks, now reverberate off of the walls, roaming free in the hallways that were meant to keep them in. The whispers claw at their doors, screaming, crying, begging to come out. With a final crack, the doors burst and the whispers finally break free from their rooms, plunging into the cold darkness, free at last.

Back on the seashore, the white wolf stays still. The waves creep slowly towards the rocky shoreline before running away, the water beating peacefully against the jagged rocks. The clouds pass over the moon, no longer obscuring it, and full moonlight shines on the water, awaking something deep inside. A low rumble shakes the shoreline, and the waves beat against the jagged rocks with crushing force, the rhythmic sound like drums of war pounding in the dead of night.

A soft breeze shakes the white wolf’s fur, and a long, low whistle travels through the wind. Voices rise from the black ocean, carried by the wind. Tears not quite black, but in-between the shades of gray, fill the white wolf’s glazed eye, still fixed on the moon. Tendrils of darkness swirl inside the teardrop, and soft hisses vibrate from it. The tears drip from her snout and fall onto the rocks, bursting when they hit the ground, turning into a small puddle that has its own voice. They hiss and chitter, speaking nonsense or order, but whatever they are saying, it had caused the wolf to stir. She moves. Gets up and leaves her perch on the rocky seashore. She walks towards the ocean, closer and closer still. The voices and whispers grow louder and louder, cheering her on. Her paws touch the water. The coldness seeps into her fur, leeching onto her bones, it’s small claws gripping and stabbing, never planning to let go. The white wolf steps deeper into the ocean, eye still fixed on the luminous moon. The water rises to her chest, the voices and whispers screaming for her to go on. The water rises to her snout, to her unblinking eye. She goes under. And stays. The voices and whispers stop, the waves once again gentle, the moon less bright, the air still. The night resumes back to its hazy gray.

But wolves can’t breathe in the water.

*          *          *

Inside my mind, darkness rises and pools on the clean white tiles of the hallway. It is a dark liquid, not quite black, but in-between the shades of gray. It turns from a puddle into a river, chasing me as I try to escape. The darkness touches my bare foot. It is ice, cold like the whispers that haunt you in your sleep, like the monsters hiding under your bed, like the vicious darkness within that waits with open jaws to swallow you whole. The darkness rises to my ankle, my knees, my waist, my shoulders, and finally it pushes me under. I try to swim up, but already I am drowning. The walls of the hallway disappear, replaced by an infinite blackness. I realized I am in the ocean and the waves are dragging me down, and the hands of darkness are claiming me and all the life boats are deflating and all the buoys are sinking and I can’t swim and I won’t swim I am sinking… I am dying in the never-ending hallway of my own mind, swept up in the chaos of darkness. I will not die I will die. Because they have bound my wrists and ankles together, threw me in the ocean to drown. Because I am trapped in a rusty metal cage 204 meters down, and I can’t break out. I’m plummeting into a dark place, an empty world. I’m a feature in the current, submerged until I’m all gone.

*          *          *

When will I be free? I often wonder this, sitting in the middle of my glass cage bubble with a porcelain mask over my face. People walk around my bubble, ignoring it because I am invisible because they have other things to attend too. Occasionally, a person or two would stop by and peer into my glass bubble, smiling or just simply curious at what is inside. But for most of the time, I am left alone with my thoughts, with the doubt and hatred creeping up, stepping out of the shadows when the sun goes down.

Why am I such a coward? Why can I shatter this glass cage? Why do I always live in the fear of hurting myself when I break out? That the glass will slice my skin and I will bleed and die? Because there is always a thief, a thief who will steal all the stars that light up your sky, until you are surrounded by darkness, forever alone. The whispers battle with their words, stabbing and hurting, waging war with the bit of light in my being.

I stand up from my seat in the cage. Today is the day, where I will not back down and I will not let the whispers empower me ever again. I walk towards the glass and pound on it with all my might, each blow of my hands creating web-like cracks on the glass. It’s stupid really, to think this 1 cm piece of glass is separating me from a life. I pound and scream and kick for days, until I lose track, until my throat is parched and raw, hands red and bloody, feet swollen and oozing…But I will not give up; I will break free.

At last, the prison shatters, the glass that seemed so menacing and sharp, now a glittering confetti shower, catching the light from the setting sun. I breathe in and out, and step over the threshold.

Outside is an unfiltered world. I don’t see it through the glass, not ever again, but I see the truth. And it’s breathtaking. Beautiful. I try to take another step forward, to savor the precious moments of freedom, but I can’t.


It starts with a tingling in my heart. Then a numbing cold seizes my body, captures me in its frozen embrace. I can’t move, my feet stuck on the ground just outside of my prison. My heart feels like it’s turning into stone, hardening and cracking before finally splitting in half. Then sensations come flooding in. A whole river. An ocean, bursting into my body. Pain grips my throat, choking me, strangling me until I can’t breathe. My body turns colder. I claw to stay in the warmth of my conscious mind, my nails digging and scratching and finding purchase, but I lose my grip and plunge into the depths of my callous heart…And then a burst of a blackness so dark and vicious jolts me awake, blowing up from my chest, and into the approaching night beyond.


It was the darkness that saved me at the end. The darkness that is now part of the night, the shadows, the darkest corners of the universe. My mask shatters, falling from my face and breaking into a million pieces. They catch on fire as the sun disappears, the last bit of warmth fading away. I stand alone, with the shattered remains of my mask, the last embers winking out of existence. I look back at the prison that once held me in fear, now broken, the glass a harmless pile of confetti at my feet. For once maybe I am free. I am not afraid to break out of my glass prison. I am alone I am an individual. I need help to break free  I am strong, and I will rise. Alone.

*          *          *

Somewhere in the night, a white wolf howls, long and great and filled with joy. She is alone in the night, silver fur shifting with the shadows. She is alone, and free.

Somewhere in the shadows, a darkness not quite black, but in-between the shades of gray, slithers down the rocky beach. Whispers call at its wake, a trail of moaning and suffering waiting to infect someone else. The darkness slithers to meets the wailing ocean, calling for its lost child. It gingerly sinks in, finally, ultimately, returning home.

Somewhere in one of the rooms in her mind, or a rusty metal cage 204 meters down, she is continuing to fill her paper with breathings of her heart. She is still fighting the whispers coming from the other rooms, banging on the doors to be let out, still trying to swim when the hallways are flooded. She is trying to be oblivious to her peer’s protests about her writing. But she is trying. Trying to not hide the scars that make her beautiful, the vicious darkness within. And sometimes, trying is all that matters in this bleak world. She could be the weak little girl with silver hair and a lost eye, or the ferocious white wolf—but she still doesn’t know. And perhaps that is the beauty in living a life.

–By Christina Ma

Sharanya and Abigail’s Story by Sharanya T.


 1932, November 13

We huddled around Ma, praying for the baby. Ma’s face clenched with pain. My twin brother, David, spoke gently to Ma, “That’s right, Ma, push!” I groaned. He’s always the teacher’s’ pet, always Ma’s favorite.The star. Always. I’m the impatient one, an hour early. The red-hot temper, me. I do have a few good traits, I’m pretty smart, and can be passed off as pretty. I looked at Ma. Her cheeks were wet with tears of pain. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a field of lavender, all beautiful and pretty. That really helps me when I get too sad. A scream pierced my thoughts. I opened my eyes quickly, and joined in with the screaming. In front of Ma lay a motionless baby, red and hopeless.

November 14

I have made a huge decision today. I’m leaving. Going to California. Me and Lucy, my best friend, have got it all figured out. We’ll travel on 66, and work any job we can find along the way, and hopefully have enough money for a train for the end part of the journey. I grabbed a backpack and tiptoed down to the kitchen. I threw in a few flasks of water, lots of dried meat, some cornflakes, a few whole oranges from Ma’s tree, and ran back up. I stuffed in a wad of dollars then another. I eyed my violin and set it next to my backpack. I threw in all my clothes and on second thought, a few extra snacks from my desk and took a deep breath. I’m taking this diary. I need to stop shaking. I was the one who drilled this idea into Lucy’s head. I think the only reason she is coming is because her older brother died of dust pneumonia. But, me, I need to go. I can’t stay here cooped up in this desert. I need to show myself, who I really am.

November 17

Thank god! We found a job in a little restaurant along the road. It was all because of a dust storm. We were walking on the road dodging creaky Model Ts’.  A dark cloud at the horizon caught my eye. I screamed and pointed. Me and Lucy ran for our lives, probably kickin’ up a dust storm with our legs. The nearest indoor place was this restaurant. We ran inside, closing the door tightly. The owner was reading a magazine. “Customers?” he asked eagerly. We shook our heads and pointed outside. “Oh,” he said,”Oh!” He jumped up, put towels under the door, handed us wet cloths, and rushed us to a back room at the very edge of the shop. We put our head in our hands and Lucy started crying. I think it reminded her of home. I must admit I miss it too.  I feel really bad leaving Ma, David, and my little brothers, James and Sam. But it’s for the best. We’ve got to get to California.

November 23

After trudging a few miles in the heat, we found a small shop that sold things like cigarettes and candy. We went in just for the air conditioning. But we got so much more than that. Another job! The owner is very rich and asks so much of us. He doesn’t want a single speck of dust on the shelves. This is becoming increasingly harder to do, as we have a dust storm every other day. Our days our mostly spent scrubbing the shelves and practicing violin. We’ve come up with this amazing duet that we composed in our free time. We have a lot of free time. There are almost no customers. Five a day if we’re lucky. Lucy is very happy here. I don’t know if she really wants to move on to California. But we absolutely need to. Well, I do. But I can’t go without Lucy.

December 7

I am so happy! This morning, I woke up to the pitter-patter of rain. I guess it’s not as uncommon here in New Mexico as it is is Oklahoma, but I’m still so surprised! I guess it’s turning out well for us. We’ve saved enough money for a one way trip to California on the train! I was wrong about Lucy. She wants to go as much as I do. We were planning to leave in about an hour or so. We thanked the owner profusely and packed our bags. I put in my carefully folded clothes, the leftover money from our salary, a lot of food, and a few bottles of water. Lucy put in about the same thing. We walked to the train station, quiet and solemn. The train station was completely empty except for one thin man at the ticket counter. We bought our tickets and huddled in the corner, our hearts racing with excitement and hope. Suddenly, Lucy crashed into me. I grabbed her by the elbows. A dark figure entered my view. I screamed, “It’s a dog!” It was the cutest dog I had ever seen. With a chocolate brown coat and wide green eyes. I looked at Lucy. She nodded. We all looked at the man in the ticket booth. He was staring in the other direction. We scooped up the puppy and Lucy stuffed it in her bag. She zipped up the bag, leaving some space unzipped so the puppy could breathe. A loud whistle echoed through the air, bouncing of walls into our ears. I reached for Lucy’s hand and squeezed it. “This is it,” I whispered. We stepped onto the train, our hands trembling. The deafening whistle sounded, and I turned around and watched the mesas’ getting bigger and bigger, like sparks of hope.


1945, March 8

Oh, I haven’t opened this diary in so many years. I better start writing in it now. Ma is outside, gathering oranges from her tree. I keep telling her no, she’s too old, I’ll do it instead. But she refuses. I remember when I was ten, running away from home. I’m so glad I did that. If I hadn’t, we would always be there, maybe we would be dead, like my sister.  I know Ma is still sad about it. Me and Lucy cheer her up with our composed songs. She goes to everyone of my movies, even though I’ve done over seventy now.  Lucy and me are playing the lead roles in a new movie called The Dust Bowl: A Tragedy. We lived in migrant camps until we could find proper jobs, all those years ago. Even though my professional profession is an actress, while her’s is a composer, I still perform, and she sometimes has little acting jobs. She is right next to me, fingering her own green diary that she had when we escaped. We performed at Carnegie Hall several times. David is married now, and my little brothers (not so little anymore!) are both 18 and 17, respectively. Lucy has changed a lot, and I think I have too. I’m so much more knowledgeable, not that naive girl I used to be. Lucy has become stronger now, regularly participating in Public Speaking Contests and usually winning. I have acquired a new hobby, too. I’m a designer. My designs are presented in fashion shows, and are quite famous, if I say so myself. I guess it comes with being an actress. What a long way I have come! A little girl, who had no idea of the hardships that would come. Now, a leading actress who performs violin at Carnegie Hall with a best friend who is equally talented and famous, if not more.

Authors Note:

The Dust Bowl: In the midwest of USA, from 1930-1936, there was a huge drought caused by over farming.  Dust was everywhere, and dust storms were regular. People living in that area led bad lives, and some of them wanted to get out, while others held on. The journey to the west for a better life was hard and bitter. There weren’t many jobs in the west, and many people lived in migrant camps built by the government.

THE TRYOUT by Sharanya T.

My knees shook as I changed into my colorful swimsuit. My stomach was doing flips and my palms were sweaty. I tried to reassure myself as I pulled on my swimming cap. I looked at Maddy who was also trembling. She gave me a tight squeeze. I slowly walked out of the change-room into the swimming pool deck. I sat down on the benches and blindly stared as Mr. Lawson explained what the tryouts were going to be like. Okay, so you’ve probably guessed by now. I was going to tryout for the Middle School Competitive Swimming Team. I was 99% sure I wouldn’t get in. My friends, who were trying out with me, were equally sure they wouldn’t get in. Anyway. I walked from the bench to the pool, and slid myself in. It was freezing. Ignoring the pain, I started to swim. By the end of the warmup, I was already tired. My friends were also panting. If this was the warmup, how on earth was I going to survive the time trials? We all listened as the coach called out the heats. Great. I was in the first one. My friends all said good luck as I made my way to the blocks. The first event was 50 free. I begged my goggles not to fail me. “BEEP!” I was off. I swam as fast as I possibly could. I kept on swimming when my muscles felt like they were on fire and I was gasping for air. I kept on swimming until my hand slammed against the wall. I looked up on the board and saw my time. 2 seconds faster than ever before! I was so happy. I wasn’t first, but I wasn’t last either. Not bad! I told myself as I climbed out of the pool.

When they called out the final team members, my name wasn’t on the list. Maybe next time, I said as I changed back.

Lost by Dorothy D

“MOM! it’s my birthday tomorrow! I’m going to be 10! 10!” Sally sang happily.
“YEP! Why don’t I buy you a cake today! You know, for a special treat even though we don’t have much.”
“sure mommy, how about chocolate?”
So, we go in the car. Nothing seemed unusual, cars where running up and down honking their horns, everyone was all hurry hurry hurry! Like the usual New York city,
“Hey mom, could you maybe slow down a bit? I mean, why is our car moving so fast, it makes me kind of dizzy. MOM? MOM?”
Sure enough, in the busy traffic of New York, our car was going at an uncontrollable speed, and most cars were zooming out of our way hardly making as we zoomed past.
Tears started streaming down Mommy’s face, her face was now a blur, I could hardly see her, she seems to be disappearing! I closed my eyes and wanted this to be all a dream. “I, I—I—don’t know, I. can’t, make, it, to, stop, it’s oh no, no, no, no! hide. NOW” She screamed. She was getting blurrier for me to see. It was a bit too much for me to take, our car had something wrong, my mom was disappearing, and it was the day just before my 10th birthday. Could it get worse?
The answer is YES. While our car went chch chch bang. Chchch bang! Me and my mom were screaming our heads off. The other people were calling the police. The whole thing was sped up and I couldn’t keep up.
“Hide? mom? where?” I asked still totally confused of what was going on.
Mom climbed to the back of the car and clanged me tight. While our car just went faster and faster, until my head became dizzy and everything went into a blur, we were crashing cars, like a beast on the road! Our car went round and round still in full speed, every once a while it stopped, due to all the cars we’re crashing, but it would not, could not, slow down. “Don’t move, I’ve got you.” Whispered my mom’s voice, it was raspy and I could hardly feel her or hear her now.
As a loud BOOOOMMM Mom was gone. I was hurt. I cried and cried. Then dad came, and took me to the hospital, well somehow he flashed us in the hospital, like he was a wizard, and then he too went away. Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying Crying. Nothing.

I’ve always thought I was adopted, but my parents insist I don’t look like them because after the accident the doctor wasn’t good at a surgery and messed everything up. But thanks to the Doctor, I am still ALIVE!

Mom said I was sick, very sick, and when the doctor did a surgery, something went wrong. And I lost my memory. I can’t remember what happened before the accident, I can’t remember what happened when I was a child, all I knew was something big happened, something that doesn’t happen to normal people. My parents only talked about it once, it went something like this:
“You were in an accident honey, a car crash. You were sick and injured, and the doctor at the hospital was new. Can’t believe that was just half a year ago! We’re sorry sweetie, but honey, things happen. And it just happened to you.” But I knew they were keeping something from me, something horrible.

Just another boring day at home, waiting for my mom to back come home. When I discovered a door that wasn’t there before. On the sixth stair case. Counting from 1st floor, near my room.
It was tiny door, only about my the dimensions hand. I thought we had a rat in the house but it was a door. Rats can’t make doors. Something about the door was very amusing, like it DIDN’T want me to come near. That’s when I got a strange feeling, that this door was to hide something, to hide something from me. I needed to know. A voice went on in my head “Don’t you open that, Sally S. Wrension. Don’t you DARE!” Which made it more strange because that never happens. I never ever talk to myself, mostly because I have nothing to talk about. I HAD to open it. I was a girl with a curious mind even if I forgot a lot of stuff, I never forgot how to be curious. I pushed open the tiny door. Creek! I knew that by doing this I might be put in peril. But I NEEDED TO KNOW! The door hasn’t been oiled in a long time. Inside was a coin. And on it was the letter M. On the back was the date 2016. June 22ed Now I had a strange tangy feeling about this date. Something familiar. I reached my hand to grab it, even though it didn’t seem like a good thing to do, but you know, I don’t think by touching a coin could cost something bad could happen like aggravate my bad memory lost. As my hand touched it, an unusual scene flashed before my green eyes:
“The yellow car. A yellow car. CRASH! Ouch. Twirl, scream. The whole world has gone quiet.”

I blinked, then blinked again. The whole thing was so fast I didn’t realize what on earth was going on. A memory, wait but it was so fast that it didn’t make any sense. Could the coin have, have memories in it? Yellow car, crash, what? I have no idea! I tried dropping the coin then picking it up again. Nothing happened. Ok I’m never scared, it’s like I had my scariness taken away from me when the car crashed. But now. I was really really scared! I know the whole idea seemed so fanciful, but I know what I saw.

“Hello honey, come get the door, mama’s home!” Called a familiar voice that told me my mom was home. I made a quick decision right there and then that I should NOT tell my parents about this. Or they might think I’m crazy and take me to the doctor. I always thought that my parents changed after the car crash. I know it’s silly, it’s probably my imagination but my parents could never quite understand me, and they are always looking at me in a real funny way, like they’re trying to figure something out. And whenever I tried to talk about the car crash, they shook their heads at each other and shook the topic off like they didn’t want to hear it. Maybe I wasn’t the only one that was changed after the car crash.
I quickly put the coin back, closed the small door, and went to open the door for mother. I was never quite a good actress but since I wasn’t really sure what had happened either I wasn’t actually lying or anything like that. So I think I’ll manage. As long as I remember my manners. “Hey Mother! How have you been?” I asked putting on a fake smile on my face. “Oh you’re such a lovely darling! Always greeting your mommy mum with a kind smile! What have you been up to today? Oh and father isn’t going to come home for dinner today either, I know, father is always busy but he is doing it to earn money and to make our lives better. How did your tutoring session go? I know that you hate home school but I was thinking of recovering you up on the studies instead of making you go to first grade. I mean you might be bullied! Your tutor did come did he? You do like Mr. Hardold, do you?”
“Oh yes mother. And he left at exactly 3:00! He’s right on time! He taught me the times table again mother! Oh he’s a… a brii—li—ant teacher! He told me that I was jolly lucky to still be able to remember how to speak even if I sometimes forget the right word for something.” I said quoting exactly what Mr. Hardold told me. I wanted to please mother all the time because she always has the long face as if she’s worried something is wrong. “He also said that I was a nice little girl who learned stuff very fast. It’s only been half a year but I’m already speaking normal. He taught me new words like anticipate and competition. They are very hard words! But he’s a good teacher!” I exclaimed
“Oh of course Darling! You are very smart for someone who just forgot everything. Oh dear me. You must pardon me today Sweetie Pie. I had a jolly bad day myself and must go to rest right away. I’ll cook dinner later, there is some leftover bread in the fridge.”
“Dear mother, I don’t want to disappoint you but I simply forgotten what a bread is and is what what is a f-fri-ga?”
“Oh Honey, never worry, I’ll make you dinner when you’re hungry. Just wake me up Dearie.
“Alright mother. I’ll… never mind I don’t know how to say it.”
“Darling never fear, you’ll remember how to speak in a few mouths, your learning awfully fast!”

But I simply couldn’t wait for mother go fall asleep before I went to look for the little door again, I crept upstairs, counted my steps and double checked that I was counting right. I lifted my shaky hand and felt for the little brown wooden door, but I couldn’t find it. I looked and looked and pushed and knocked, but the little door simply disappeared! I was desperately knocking myself on the head trying to remember, when mother came behind me.
“Dear darling what are you doing?” She asked. Her face wrinkled with worried as she put a trembling hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes
“Oh I just thought I remembered something but it’s gone again.” I said, best thing I could think of. With another one of those fake smiles, though the corner of my mouth twitched with worry as I thought something might be wrong with me again.
“Oh do hurry up and get off the stairs. Darling we’re having a good talk about hitting yourself on the head would not make anything better!” Mother scolded. Sweat was dripping from her forehead as she looked like she was trying to figure something out.
I yelled losing it. I really thinking that my mother was overreacting.
Mother surprisingly softened. “I’m sorry, I was worried. About you. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be me. I have to keep you safe. It’s my job. If I don’t do it well the outcome would be tremendously horrid. You are Sally Selena Wrension. You don’t know how important you are to me.” Mother got up and left me in my train of thought. “Wait, what what do you mean? Mother?”
“It’s NOT time to tell you yet.”
“fine! If you want to know then I’ll tell you. Well ok, I’ll start by telling you that your father is a robot and all the time he’s working he’s actually detecting clues for the Blackraw!”
“Mother what are you talking about? WHAT IN THE WORLD DO YOU MEAN?”
“Oh it’s nothing girl. Forget all I’ve said, I’m just trying to make silly stories to calm you down. My mouth just blahs when I’m nervous. Well anyway I have to go do something.” Suddenly my mother panicked ran to her room and slammed the door in my face.”

1 year later:
“Darling. Could you come here for a sec?” Asked Mother. Now I was normal, I could speak I could walk I could write. I had recovered from my crash completely. The coin never appeared again, neither did any talks about it. As the years passed on my life turn ordinary, I was still homeschooled but there were no more mysteries, and there were no more fights.
“Yeah sure mother, what do you want?” I asked
“Well remember that day I told you about farther being fake? Remember that door?”
I was shocked, I hardly remembered that, but I know that mom wasn’t happy about me yelling at her. “Mother? You, you were lying weren’t you?” As my voice began to whisper and weaken, sweat dropped down my forehead, I never forgot that strange moment of that yellow car. It haunted me day after day and night after night.
“Well, what I said was true. Your farther isn’t real. But I am. But we are not your real parents. The, the car crash, was cause by Raw magic, by the Blackraws. They, they kill kids that would be a leader in the future. They want to ruined everything for us humans. But they do have a reason. They predicted that after 100 years the earth will exploded. I know this isn’t very scientific but there is actually and explanation on that. Remember the book I read to you, A Winkle in Time. IT’S REAL! Well if time space gets bend too many times a natural black hole could form and if an exploding star created a black whole next to it, the 2 black hole can drag each other closer until they become an an Blackrawlie. And Blackrawie would suck earth in. I’m not saying it will happen but The Blackraw have found clues to this event. But when no one would listen to them they decide to save everyone from a heart breaking sight. They will first extinct us. But. Well. SLOWLY, they come once a year and take about 10 kids…You know, they were trying to help but nobody believed them. But I tell you, they are crazy! They become more and more determined until, until, they forgot what they were supposed to do and start, hurting inncocent children. Oh, and many of us believe that we have to make every second of our living. We have to safe those special children. And you are one! Your real parents die because of protecting you, no one was sure what happened, the doctor at the hospital, was one of us. One of our highest level, they can have some magical powers. She purposefully erased your memory put this chip inside your head so you would believe we were your parents, it was very dangerous but the doctor was very good with science and magic. And now there you are.”
The information was coming FAST! And I didn’t know either to believe it or not! In the years I’ve known mother, or she’s actually not my mother if you say it that way…but, anyway on the years I’ve known her, she never lies, except she has been keeping from me all along. I decide to play along with her even though I really thought this was one of her stories. She’s really good at story making.
“How do we tell if someone is an Blackraw member?” I asked in a joking way.
Mom was serious now. Those words of her I never forgot. “They drive yellow cars. They wear sunglasses, they know that one day they’ll be NO light so they wear sunglasses to prepare, stupid huh? But they are intelligent people I tell you, good technology and things. They dress in black. They have black gloves with the words. HOLE on it. They smile with the evilest grins. And they know a target when they see one.”
I took the whole thing as a joke.

9 years later,
One day when I was home alone. I just came home from college, I was an grade A student with a few awesome inventions and, yep engineering is AWESOME! Because I’ve been doing so well, I’ve also gotten jolly rich and, here I am, AT MY OWN APARTMENT! Daddy passed away with sickness. Oh yeah, last time mom said he was a robot or something but, it’s a story and never mentioned again so… yeah my mom makes GREAT stories with actual scientific knowledge, so COOL! I take after her. So Anyway I sat with my laptop and tea. I AM NOT MARRIED. Sorry. That was random. Anyway I was sitting in my living room with a laptop on my lap and some tea in hand, I turned on the TV and started brainstorming about my next science project.
TV: Hello everyone, we have some exciting and awful mystery going on, 5 children gone missing, 4 found dead. Scarily, at every disappearance or death scene there was a yellow car. Detectives found no clued whatsoever and there is no prove of any fingerprint. But there was a video that the camera captured: It showed a man stepping out of a yellow car. I know this isn’t anything scary, but it is as soon as he stepped out of the car, for some reason, all the camera and all devices around, went completely blank! Mystery hon? Seems like magic! Who knows! Also people that recovered after a damage in the scene reported having no memory of it what so ever.

I didn’t hear most of that but I did hear: “no memory of it what so ever.”
Well whatever! None of my business
30 mins later:
As I looked out my window with a strange and dangerous feeling, I saw, a yellow car, a guy with sunglasses, gloves with a word starting with H-O something, with an evil grin as he held up a picture that matched my apartment perfectly. “I’m here, let’s do this!” he muttered silently as I remembered my mother’s warning.

Fanfiction from Undertale by Olivia X

“Heya. You’ve been busy, huh?”
Frisk stood at the middle of the Judgement Hall, staring at a dark figure which was Sans. In her hand, she gripped the Real Knife so hard her knuckles were even white and gleaming. She didn’t trust herself to speak just yet.
“So, I’ve got a question for ya. Do you think even the worst person can change? That everyone can be a good person, if they just try?”
Frisk was about to say yes, but bit her tongue. Really? Was that true? She wasn’t even sure who she was herself.
“Heh heh heh heh…all right. Well, here’s a better question. Do you wanna have a bad time? ‘Cause if you take another step forward…you are REALLY not going to like what happens next.
Frisk took a small step forward, knife held in front of her.
“Welp. Sorry, old lady. This is why I never make promises.
Sans stood in front of her, now in his own body instead of just a dark shadow. He wore a grin, but not a kind one. More of an evil, menacing one.
“It’s a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming…on days like this, kids like you…”
Suddenly, bones shot out of the ground, but Frisk jumped out of the way. She flew through a wave of bones, and dodged one Gaster Blaster attack after another. She wasn’t hit, not yet. Falling back, she fell down and dropped the knife. Sans’s eye sockets were completely dark now.
“S h o u l d b e b u r n i n g i n h e l l.”
The battle began. “Here we go.”
Frisk lashed forward at Sans, against her will. What was happening? It was like…someone was controlling her. Her every move and action weren’t her own. But Sans dodged easily.
“What? You think I’m just gonna stand there and take it?”
He sent column and column of bones at her, with only a small gap to jump through. Frisk kept her eyes focused on Sans, jumping through every gap without getting hit once. Somehow. Unwillingly, the controller makes her try to slice at the skeleton again, but he only dodged.
“Our reports showed a massive anomaly in the timespace continuum. Timelines jumping left and right, stopping and starting…”
This attack was a series of blue and white bones. She remembered that blue attacks couldn’t hurt her if she didn’t move, so she stood still through those, and jumped over the white bones. She tried to speak, to reach out to Sans. But she couldn’t.
“Until suddenly, everything ends.”
The attack was similar to the second one, but all the gaps between the bones were at different heights. Frisk got hit by one, and fell to the floor, bleeding slightly from her arm. She dropped the knife. She couldn’t. She couldn’t attack Sans anymore, even though she knew that he would dodge all of them. He was her friend. Maybe only in another timeline, but she believed that they could be friends now too. If only her possessor could just disappear. Frisk squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists. She refused to attack. But the possessor was too strong. Stronger than her. Before she knew what she was doing, Frisk had picked up the knife again, and lashed out at Sans yet another time.
“Heh heh heh…that’s your fault, isn’t it?”
Frisk wanted to scream. She knew he was talking about the timelines, and what killed her the most was that it was her fault. But not fully. She had to oppose the possessor. That was the only way save both herself and Sans. She managed to survive the attack, which included jumping on platforms over bones, without getting hit. She could feel the horrible urge that she couldn’t counter. Or…could she? Frisk filled her mind with thoughts of the past timeline, where she befriended Sans and Papyrus. She remembered cooking with Papyrus, joking around with Sans, Sans stacking hotdogs on her head, Sans’s horrible but hilarious puns….
“NO!” Frisk screamed.
The knife was thrown on the marble floor. It fell with a clatter. She slowly knelt down onto the floor, shaking, hands covering her face. She couldn’t fight, she wouldn’t. But…she had to. Sans seemed to be a bit taken aback at this, but he readied another Gaster Blaster. Frisk raised her head slowly. Then, the Gaster Blaster blasted right at her. But she didn’t die. Instead, she simply bent down and calmly retrieved the knife. She could feel a smile growing on her face. The gray smoke from the Blaster faded, and she smiled. But now, her possessor had gained full control over her. Her hair wasn’t brown anymore. They were dark red, the color of rust. Her eyes weren’t brown anymore either. They were blood red. She now wore a green and yellow striped shirt, brown pants, and brown shoes. Her name wasn’t Frisk anymore. She was Chara.
With a wide grin, she sliced at Sans. He seemed to be surprised, almost…scared.
“Y-you can’t understand how this feels.”
This attack was similar to the one before, and Chara survived it without getting hit once, eyes still fixed on Sans, and grin still wide on her face. Unblinking, she sliced at Sans again.
“Knowing t-that one day, without any warning…it’s all going to be reset. “
Chara didn’t care about resets or anything. Right now, she was focused on one thing, and one thing alone. Killing Sans.
After a couple more attacks, Sans seemed to be sweating. Tiring.
“Ugh…that being said…you, uh, really like swinging that thing around, huh? …listen. I know you didn’t answer me before, but…somewhere in there. I can feel it. There’s a glimmer of a good person inside of you. The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing. Someone who, in another time, might have even been…a friend? C’mon, buddy. Do you remember me? Please, if you’re listening…let’s forget all of this, ok? Just lay down your weapon, and…well, my job will be a lot easier.”
Chara’s form seemed to flash. For a split second, she turned back into Frisk. But ultimately, Chara took over again. With no hesitation at all, she lashed out again at Sans, smile never fading from her face.
“Welp, it was worth a shot. Guess you like doing things the hard way, huh?”
After about a dozen attacks, Sans seemed to be really, really tired.
“Huff…puff…all right. That’s it. It’s time for my special attack. Are you ready? Here goes nothing.”
Chara stood alert, knife held in front of her, completely still. Not shaking or even blinking.
“Yep. That’s right. It’s literally nothing. And it’s not going to be anything, either. Heh heh heh…ya get it? I know I can’t beat you. One of your turns…you’re just gonna kill me. So, uh. I’ve decided…it’s not gonna BE your turn. Ever. I’m just gonna keep having MY turn until you give up. Even if it means we have to stand here until the end of time. Capiche?”
Chara didn’t move. She desperately wanted to attack something, but she had to wait.
“You’ll get bored here. If you haven’t gotten bored already, I mean. And then, you’ll finally quit.”
Chara was bored. Really bored. But Sans didn’t need to know that. He said a few more lines of dialogue that she didn’t pay much attention to at all. She could see the skeleton getting more and more tired. Finally, his eyes closed, and he began to snore. A huge smile spread across Chara’s face, and she raised her knife. Perfect.
Silently, she tiptoed until she was right in front of Sans. With a quick swipe of the arm, she swiped her knife at Sans, but he awoke and dodged.
“Heh, didja really think you be able-“
With another slice, Chara finally got him. But right after she hit him, she squeezed her eyes shut. For a moment, she turned back into Frisk yet again. Tears welled up in her brown eyes when she saw what she had done. She dropped the knife onto the floor again, blood splattering against the ground. She looked at Sans, whose life was slowly fading away. Tears fell down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him, not minding the blood. Frisk cried harder and harder, burying her face in his soft, blue jacket

Letters by Jasmine Z

Dear Lisa,

Nice I can write this letter to you. I missed you so much! I hope you can live well over your new school. I hope your grade is still that good, and you will have many good friends. Don’t forget me, though. I will always remember you. If you have time, write to me if you can. I will be so pleasure to read your letter. And by the way, our school is very well now. All the students are all here. Expect you. We really missed you so much! Not smarming up, ha ha. I really missed you. Come back if you can. I will be still right here.
Your truly, Peter

Lisa’s hand was shaking when she was reading this letter. She missed them so much, her old school. But now she has to stay in another contrary, because of her father’s job. That’s so sad. All the people knows. In her old school, she has her best Friend-Peter. Peter always care and stay with her. But now… will she has new friend at her new school? Everything seems so new to her. That’s so awkward. She hasn’t learned any of her new school stuff yet. Will it be embarrassing? Will the classmates doesn’t like her? And she has to speak French. Although her French is good, but it’s not as good as Frenches, though. Will she sound strange? This will never happen at her old school. Her English is very well. She is the monitor! And her grade is almost 100 score at every subject. She barely can’t think about her new life at French. It will must be worse, though. No friends, no good grades. Everything will be paint on a gray color. Ah…

Lisa took out her pen and wrote a letter to peter:

Dear Peter,

That’s so nice that you still remember to letter me. I’m so happy. I need to learn all the way French here, no English at all. I felt embarrassed and unconfutable. All the thing is bright new. I can’t imagine the classmates and teachers. Will they discrimination me? I can’t think. I want to stay with you guys, especially you. But life is like so cruel. Nobody can forecast the future. I… I’m so scared! I really want to be with you right now. But how could I? It’s impossible. I know. But I will still miss you! I will go and see you if I have chance.
Love, Lisa

After Lisa did that, she felt relief. Then she climbed on the bed and went to sleep.

When Lisa woke up, it’s already the next day. The sun is shining through the window, to her new bed, new room. It’s already 8’o clock in the morning. It’s time to get up, Lisa thought. She climbed off the bed and walked outside.

“Moring sweetheart. I thought you still need to sleep till nine. Smiled mom. “Is it still ok with your new bed? Tell what you need.”

“It’s okay mom, really. Now can I have my breakfast now? I’m so hungry.” Replied Lisa, still in a sleepy mod.

Mom walked through the kitchen and handed out some dishes.

“Here you are, baby. I don’t want you to be starving. Eat something first and then go outside to find some new friends.”

I don’t want to! The guys are all French! How can I can be friend with these Frenches! I can’t think… Lisa thought, sadly. I will never have friends. Never!

After breakfast, Lisa walked straight upstairs to her room. She’s mind was racing now. what can I do? She thought deeply. She has actually no idea what to do next. Waiting for tomorrow’s school? That will be absolutely no. she won’t want to go to school anymore at French! But she must to. The sun raises behind her back. It’s so gold, like her curly hair.

Lisa steeped deeply to school. She has a feeling she wants to run away from here, back to her English school, play and studying with her friends, epically Peter. But everything changed so fast… she closed her eyes and doesn’t want to think anymore.

Hi, what can I do for you? Asked the guard, smiling friendly to Lisa: I heard today will be a new student arrived and very confused. I will lead you to your class first if you want. Then the teacher will walk around for you.

It’s okay, but still thanks! Lisa smiled shyly: “You know I’m English.”

“I know. But that doesn’t matter, bro! you are very nice and kind. I think you will catch up very soon.” Replied the guard.

Hopefully… Lisa thought, still unsure what to do. She stepped forward on the front porch and followed the guard into the school.

“Bonjour! bienvenue à notre école.vous serez notre élève.je vais trouver un ami pour vous et vous la montrer.j’espère que tu aimes ici.” (welcome to our school. you will be our student now. i will find a buddy for you and show you around. hope you like here.) welcomed the teacher of their class, Ms. Jackerson. This everything is so nice! Lisa begin to thought. And it’s not bad. But
“viens, Vivian, spectacle Lisa autour de l’école puis retourner en classe. ne sois pas en retard!” (come here Vivian, show Lisa around the school then back to class. don’t be late!)

“oui, Madame” said Vivian, and walked straight to Lisa: “You are English, do you? Lucky I speak English so well. I will help you to catch up. Of course. Can you speak French?” asked Vivian.

“je ne peux parler français Un peu de. merci.” (I can speak French a bit. Thank you.) replied Lisa, thought Vivian is a nice girl. This is not bad, maybe everything will be right. But what if someone will still ignore her? What if the homework is too hard for her? What if the students tense her? She thought terribly, but still a bit of happy to be with partner of Vivian.

After today’s school, Lisa felt quiet okay. The work is pretty hard, though. But Vivian is nice, and helped her about the work. She still need to catch up and study. When she stepped on her house porch, there’s a letter lay in the mail box. She picked it up and read it:

Dear Lisa,
Thanks for your replied! I really missed you sick each day. Now in England, the teachers were very serious about school work. They said school work is important than anything! Important that friendship, important than enrichment. Some friends even fright because of this. But the teachers just ignore it and keep talking about class! Now our class is even more. 4 periods in the Morning and 4 periods in the afternoon. That’s so tired! We have to read, write, talk, group work, lots of stuff. Out PF only have it once a week! That’s so mean. I wish this is a dream and you are still with us. Oh, the new monitor changed to Rebeca. She’s nice but not as you! How is it about your school? Write to me if you have time. 🙂
Love, Peter

After Lisa read this, she ran straight to her room and grab a pen, even without saying hello to her mother. Dad is still not back yet. Mom is cooking, not realize she’s back yet. The sound exactly covered Lisa’s footsteps. Lisa ran toward to her room and locked the door. She grabbed a pen and be gain to write with a piece of paper. She wrote quickly and fast. When she was done, she read it:
Dear peter,
I missed you very much too! I went to school today. The school is whole French! Can you believe that? The work is so hard that I barley can’t breathe. But it’s quiet okay. There’s a girl called Vivian and she is very kind and friendly to me. she can speak English very well and help me. I feel pretty happy about Vivian. Are you still ok? I hope you are. I wish I can see you right now. someone tensed me a bit, but they are not that bad. Bye, I’m going to do my French homework. La prochaine fois, plus vous parler de communication! (I will talk to you more next time)
Love, Lisa
Lisa put down the letter and pen. She wanted to send it out. But she need to ask her mom first. Her mom always forbidden her to letter Peter. She said forgot the past is the best. She thinks Peter is very rude. But he’s not! Mom is always wrong! But what can she do? She only can beg but her mother will never agree. NEVER!

Her mother stepped in the room with a rush: Baby? You came back! I didn’t even notice yet! My goodness! Are you still alright? Sorry I have to go to office so I can’t drive you. Sorry! Is the school okay? Do you need any help with your homework? Sorry mom’s French is horrible. I know it’s hard. But at least try okay? Please? You can do anything after your homework. I promise. Anything you want.”

“It’s okay mom. I know your hard. My work I can do it. I understand. But you really don’t have to worry. But can you do a fever for me? just a little thing.”

“What is it? I can do as much I can.” Asked mom.

“It’s about the letter, and I want to send a letter to Peter, please! Just once! Mom, you know I really…” begged Lisa, with tears: “I really missed him…”

Mom agreed. She just signed a little. Then she gave Lisa a stamp and said: “Better stick it on first and post it. You know how, right? I even know the post man as well…” she signed again.

Lisa jumped and stick the stamp on. It’s a beautiful stamp, Peter will love it! He is a stamp collector. He loves stamps. Any. This stamp has sea, beach and birds on it. Hope he likes it. Thought Lisa.

Lisa walked back to the room after she posted it. She opened her French homework and started the first problem: 312/4? math is always easier for her because there’s not that much words. But not as humanities and science.

She wrote down the answer very quick and checked it fast. Alright! It’s correct. Math homework is soon finished. Then Lisa took out her humanities homework. It needs to write a poem down. Be nice and neat, about seasons or weathers. She thinks and thinks. What can she write? Suddenly, she has an idea!

Lisa wrote this after asking and searching:
la pluie
par Lisa
il pleut dehors, comme beaucoup de petits garçons
vous sautez et courir sous la pluie
une pomme soudainement te tombe sur la tête
la nuit est apparu après avoir regardé vers le ciel
le ciel devient de plus en plus sombre sous la pluie
pommier commencent lentement à être floue.
la nuit tombe, oh ma chérie
terrain devient plus humide et plus humide…


Raining outside, like many little boys

You are jumping and running in the rain

An apple suddenly falls on your head

Night appeared after you looked up to the sky

The sky grows darker and darker in the rain

Apple tree slowly begin to be unclear.

Night falls, oh dear

Ground is getting wetter and wetter…)

Lisa really did her best at this. She can’t think any others. She talks about rain. A nice poem! Will teacher like it? Will it be M at the points? She doesn’t know. Even the trees outside started to wink, seems like saying no either.

The next day seems harder a lot. The teacher talked about history and other stuff. She needs to read a book about history and write some hard words down. Then make sentences. Then write feelings and comments. Lisa is very worried about this.

She wrote down the hard words she thinks:
les historiens (historanis)
les anthropologues (anthropologists)
Ancienne civilization (ancient and modern civilization)
Évolutif (evolution)
Singe (singe)

Then she made sentences:

les historiens sur le passé (historians’ studies about the past)

les anthropologues sont sages (anthropologists are wise)

But she can’t think of what feelings or comments. She thinks it’s perfect. But it’s not.

She phones called Vivian. No one answer. Then again. Vivian has the phone call! She said:

V: Bonjure? (hi)
L: je veux vous poser une question. (I want to ask a question)
V: qu’est ce que c’est? (what is it)
L: juste des devoirs. (just homework stuff)
V: ok…
L: I don’t understand humanities homework
V: I don’t think you should write long. The feelings just write some few. Write what you think.
L: that’s all?
V: yeah!
L: ok, merci! (ok, thanks)
V: your welcome
L: bye!
V: bye

The phone call ended. Lisa got what she wanted. She was so happy. Vivian is a nice girl. Vivian should have meant to be her friend. At all.

Mom stepped in and handed a plate of fruits and a cup of hot coco. “Have some, dear. You are tried. So much. Do you need help?”

“No thanks mom. I already asked Vivian. She’s a nice girl today I met. She helped me so much about school work.” Replied Lisa.

“Oh well! That’s brilliant! Congratulations! Now eat your food, when I call, get out and have dinner.” Said mom.

It’s 6:23 when Lisa finished her homework. She tried really hard. She closed her eyes for a while and went downstairs for dinner. (Although mom doesn’t call her yet)

Dear Lisa,
I read your letter. I know the money is much to paid for the letter. I tried to write as much as I can at the same time. Sorry but my mom is getting angry, I guess your mom is also #^_^# are you still alright? I heard you started your school yet. Is the homework hard? I can’t speak French very well, you know. You always help me, but now… don’t say that bad and said words! So now you are okay with all the thing around you? Are you busy? Your stamp is really beautiful! I put it away the first I get it. Can you send a picture for me please? I really want to see your face. Touch it gently, smooth it with my fingers. Will you? This is my pictures down here. Did I change much? Is it still ugly? I know it is. I hope you are always fine. Bye!

Dear Peter:
Nice you love my stamp! Of course I can send you my picture! My homework is quiet okay. Really. Don’t say that word, Peter. You are not ugly. That picture looks awesome and handsome! My picture is here. Can’t write you much. Still have French homework. See ya!
Love, Lisa

Lisa went downstairs to eat dinner. Mom is already waiting. She smiled and greeted her. Lisa greeted back and said: “When will we go back to England, mom? I missed my old friends so much!”

“Oh dear. Is not what I can say so. It depends on your dad’s job and our salary. If it’s much then we’ll go back for a while. But I’m not sure though…” replied mom.

Okay… thought Lisa. She sat down and grabbed a bread. That’s hard! Ah, French bread! She hated the French bread so much! Why she would have stay here! …

Three months later…

One day after school, Lisa walked back home but accidently saw mom standing at the porch and carried the stuff. “What are you doin here, mom? Taking these stuff around and seems like ready to go.” Asked Lisa.

“Nothing else, your father just call that we can go back to England! He found a new job there and we can go back to our home!!!” exclaimed mom with a joy.

“What?! Then can I able to go back the school I am before?”

“Sure you will! But you will need to catch up! Answered mom.

What a lucky family! They can go back to their normal life again…

5 ways to improve your IQ by Catherine C

1. First thing is first, do everything differently. Challenge your brain to form new connections and pathways by doing the things you normally do on autopilot differently. Brush your teeth with your non-dominant hand. Walk around as if you’re going backwards through time. Talk to yourself in a different language. Whatever you can do to mix it up, do it!
2. Mediate. Much research has shown that not only is meditating good for stress levels and mood, but it’s also good for brain functioning. It has been shown to improve blood flow to the brain, patience, concentration, and memory. And it’s totally relaxing, too.
Try 30 minutes each day. You may split this into 10 or 15 minute blocks 2-3 times a day. It is preferable to do when you wake up, after you exercise, and at night directly before you go to bed.
3. Consider taking supplements. A much safer alternative to taking “smart” drugs is taking natural supplements. Just make sure you’re taking the right amount by talking to your doctor first. All of the ones below come backed by scientific research:
Ginkgo Biloba
Omega-3 fatty acids
4. Start doing regular aerobic exercise. The studies of Win Wenger show that breath correlates to attention span. Try underwater swimming or running. If not, any aerobic exercise should do. Exercise twice a day for 45 minutes when you wake up and before you go to bed. You should preferably couple this with meditation after you exercise.
5. Sleep when your brain actually wants it. Some people are in their prime thinking zone at 9 in the morning. Some at 9 at night. Even others at 3 AM or whenever they’ve finished their third cup of coffee. Since everyone is different, sleep when your brain wants it. Do you do your best work at night? Then sleep late. You’re not being lazy, you’re being wise!

Red Ribbon by Bessy and Gladd

Red Ribbon
As a child I have experienced many dreadful situations, but pleasing ones as well, the memories still roam around in my blank head, at the age of 13 I have experienced a dreadful disease called polio, while sitting on the hospital bed my body suddenly becomes stiff, I try to get the glass of water besides me all I do is nock it down and watch it shatter it into pieces. in a minute I yelp with pain in my arms and my legs my throat suddenly feels soar, I use my palm to press the emergency button next to me, and as doctors run in to see what have happened gushes of tears run down my cheek, the doctors each take a part of my body and examine it, they tell me I have a bad disease, and I start to freak out all my mind was focused on was the pain everywhere, one of the doctors say “We have to take her to building 2” another say “ok lets move” and they push me out the room I was bumping but for that second I could stop thinking about the pain, the last thing I could see was the sign that had my name Cecilia Pinkihood, and then everything turns black. As my eye lids rise I find out I am in a room with physical therapy equipment’s, that moment as I lye down on the bed there the doctors come in to give me my meal, everyday and I would sit there isolated from other kids and every thing outside the room, when I was inside the other hospital room kids like me would always visit me, and give me cards, still now I don’t know why I was in the hospital in the first place or were my parents were? at this age I sill forget things very easily but I never find why? days passed and something was on my wrist I could feel it just then I saw a ribbon, as weeks passed the ribbon got smaller or maybe it was my hands that got bigger but I knew I had to tell someone so right before, I press the emergency button quickly, as soon I could even blink I hear a knock on the door, a women and a man take a step forward and asked if they could come in and talk to me, as they came closer I keep thinking that I have met them before but I really did not want myself to get a head ache about it so I just considered them as strangers, reply with a soft and direct “Do I know you” The two strangers look at me with shock on their faces. The woman cups her hand around mines and says, “Cecilia you don’t remember us?” I take my hand away from hers, but in the process I feel a blast of pain come out of nowhere. ” AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH” I shout. The pain felt like we had just cut off my hand without Anastasia. The woman runs to the man. The man grips her to his body. Suddenly the woman starts crying. “Cecilia we are your parents,” the man says. Suddenly I remember them I remember my mom hugging me every time I came home from school sad. I remember my dad bringing me to his office every Friday and letting me doodle on his note book. I remember how every Christmas we just by the fire place. I sit on the dad and mom sits next to us hugging both of us at the same time. Suddenly I feel bad about myself. I feel so bad because I couldn’t recognize my own parents. But I had to be sure so I randomly asked some questions about me, my first one was “What is my middle name?” Only my parents knew my middle name and they knew I didn’t like it. They both looked at me in surprise. After a while of just us looking at each other the woman started laughing and said “Your middle name is Ducky,” It was the first time I had ever been happy to hear my middle name. So these people really were my parents! I was so happy! I started jumping off the bed to hug them but then sharp pain shot through me as if a sharp toothed creature was eating me from the inside. I let go of an ear splitting sound. I didn’t know if that was a scream or not. Maybe it was but my throat was so dry. Suddenly I started to feel something coming out of my throat. I didn’t know where all of that came from I hadn’t eaten in days. I heard adult voices calling for doctors. I guess it was my parents. I heard footsteps coming towards me. I heard a female voice, probably mom, crying calling out for me. Suddenly everything was black. I couldn’t see anything I couldn’t hear anything, At last everything was black and the whole world was silent……..
I burst awake, I looked around the room, I actually felt a lot better, but as soon as I got up I felt a stiff pain in my legs and arms again. I screamed in . I quickly sat back down tears rolling down my face. I couldn’t stand it anymore! I wanted to know what was wrong with me. Suddenly a doctor came in with a frustrated look on his face. I quickly whipped the tears off my face I started panicking. What was happening? The doctor sat beside me on the bed. “I’ve got bad news for you girl.” I wanted to sit up but I knew it will hurt me. So I stayed how I was and asked, “What’s wrong?” I was panicking ” He looked at me and said ” Your mom died in a car accident”

To be continued