Amber Hiles's Blog

Have you ever been in a life-or-death situation? Many people have, some with life-threatening illnesses or having experienced natural disasters. These survivors share similar important qualities that enable them to survive, and the three most important are dauntlessness, selflessness, and problem-solving.

The first vital quality of a survivor is dauntlessness. To be dauntless means to show fearlessness and determination. Survivors face many challenges in their path, and they must be able to overcome these challenges using boldness and persistence. In the story Ninth Ward by Jewell Parker Rhodes, Lanesha and her friend, TaShon, are stuck on a roof. The roof is surrounded by toxic water as a result of Hurricane Katrina. Tashon and Lanesha have to get off the roof because the flood waters are rising, and their only hope to get off the roof is to get to something to free the boat they see stuck in branches near their neighbor’s house. Lanesha was dauntless when she decided to jump onto the log floating in the contaminated water around her to reach the boat. According to Rhodes in her book, Ninth Ward, “I inch my body further, my hips and legs still touching the roof. Inhaling, I plunge forward. My arms are around the tree.” Lanesha is so desperate to get off the roof that she will lunge into the toxic water to save herself and her friend;  this shows dauntlessness. 

The second vital quality of a survivor is selflessness. To be selfless is to be concerned more about other people’s needs rather than your own. People may think that selflessness is not as important because survivors also need to help themselves to make sure they survive. The reason selflessness is in the top 3 most important qualities of a survivor is that when people help others and care for others, friendships and trust are created. This creates a symbiotic relationship in which people help people. For example, in the novel Into the Lifeboat by Violet Jessop, Violet is on the Titanic while it is sinking. Likewise, in Ninth Ward, Violet and Lanesha are both surrounded by water. Violet and Lanesha both have to secure a lifeboat to survive. Violet works on the ship as a stewardess, a person who helps and attends to people on a boat, aircraft, or airplane. Once many people have gotten off the ship and into the lifeboats, Violet is on her way to get on one herself. After she is in the lifeboat, young Mason hands her a baby. Violet takes the baby willingly to save the child. “Before I could do anything, young Mason hailed me and held up something, calling as he prepared to throw it, ‘Look after this, will you?” and I reached out to receive somebody’s forgotten baby in my arms.” (Jessop) The act that Violet took the baby without knowing whose it was or what would happen once she took the baby, shows selflessness. Violet took the baby without thinking because that was her instinct.

The third and final vital quality of a survivor is problem-solving. To be good at problem-solving means that you are good at finding solutions to problems. The reason that problem-solving is in the top three most important qualities of a survivor is that survivors face many challenges, and they must learn to solve them using problem-solving skills. Evidently, in the novel A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park, Salva is leaving his village of Loun-Ariik because of the war in Southern Sudan in 2011. After many years of walking, he made it to the Itang Refugee camp. He stayed in that camp for 6 years. After those 6 years, the Itange Refugee camp started to close down because the government was falling apart, and they could no longer run the refugee camp. Soldiers came and forced them into the Gilo River. Many died from drowning or were eaten by crocodiles. Salva decided his only option was to go to Kenya, which he did. He walked with all the others who survived and made it to the other side of the Gilo River, and eventually, he became the leader of all the people walking. There were many children in the group who did not want to help or work. Salva was calm and patient. He calmed and coaxed them. “There were times when some boys did not want to do their share of work. Salva would talk to them, encourage them, coax and persuade them.” (Park, pg 81) This shows that because of Salva’s childhood and all the things he went through as a child, he learned that you should learn to solve your problems and not let them overcome you.

To sum it up, whether experiencing an illness or a natural disaster, dauntlessness, selflessness, and problem-solving will benefit anyone. People can get through anything if they put their mind to it.

Mollie is a 7th grader writer at MMS.

Imagine yourself on a massive passenger liner. All of a sudden, you see a huge iceberg. The ship is going as fast as it can. You are stuck on the bottom level of this huge ship, looking at the iceberg getting closer and closer. You are not allowed to go to the top floor and have to sit there, trying to stay calm. You are also scared and must be brave to try to get to a top deck. Survivors feel many emotions but the most important qualities are calm, brave, and scared. 

Being brave is vital when surviving because, if not, people would not make it very far. Feeling fear is a normal reaction. However, when it comes to challenges, people must be brave to make it. According to Linda Sue Park in A Long Walk To Water, Salva Dut, a boy living in Sudan during the Sudan Civil War,  lost his family and home and was still determined to keep going. “Who will be my family?” (Park, 60). Salva kept going because he knew that if he did not, he would die like the others on the journey.  He had to make it to get water and safety at Ethiopia’s refugee camp. “But Salva knew both of them wanted him to keep going” (Park, 65). He also lived in a village with no resources so he needed to be brave to walk a long way. He also had friends that went with him along the way. If he was not brave, he would not have made it to where he is today.

Although being scared can bring you down, a healthy dose of fear is useful. Being scared can give individuals the survival instincts needed to keep safe from danger. It trains the body to react when in danger. According to Jewell Parker Rhodes in After The Hurricane, Lanesha was scared on a rooftop because there was a flood surrounding her which made her feel the need to look around and she found a boat that she got into after feeling scared. Also, being scared helped her to look around and hear better. “Overhead, I hear a helicopter”, (Rhodes). This shows that her listening skills went up. So, although being scared can make it look like people are weak, it can actually help the body be more efficient at the moment.

It is also vital to stay calm. According to Violet Jessop in her memoir, Into The Life Boat, she was petrified when the Titanic started sinking, but she knew it would just make things worse and she needed to stay calm and get into a lifeboat. This is because if she was just running around clueless and scared, then she could have fallen off or got hurt. So this is why it is important to stay calm.

Overall, being calm, scared, and brave is important when surviving. These characteristics play a crucial role in the human body, and feeling them is important. When surviving, it is important to at least have one moment with each of these feelings.

Cadence H. is a 7th grade writer at MMS.

There are many plants that can give mild rashes to even death. The ones that are most heard of are oleander, water hemlock, castor bean, poison ivy, angel’s trumpet, and stinging nettle.

First off is oleander. Oleander, or nerium, is a yellow or pink curled-petal flower with smaller petals in the center. Oleander is a less severe plant that causes rashes anywhere it touches. The marks are only identified by smear-type rashing of where the flower touched. A small tip is to not eat this; it can cause your mouth to erode and be very painful.

Second up is water hemlock. Water Hemlock, or cictua, is often seen as a bundle of spread out small white flowers. They grow beside ponds and streams, anywhere damp enough. It also has long, slim leaves that are poisonous to touch. Touching the plant at all can be very deadly; the roots are covered in the most poison. Water Hemlock is the most deadly flower in the western parts of North America.

Next is castor bean. Castor Bean, or ricinus, is normally seen as a red plant with round fluffy-seeming leaves down the stem. On the top is skinny red leaves with spikes coating the whole thing. Some castor plants can have innocent-looking green leaves covering the main plant. Ingesting the plant can lead to organ failure, difficulty breathing, and cause tissues to die and cease function. Castor bean can also be found as a type of non-toxic bean, used to make castor oil. It is used as a laxative and anti-inflammatory.

Thirdly is the most common: poison ivy. Poison ivy is one of the most known poisonous plants in the world, not being a severe poison if treated. It is seen as normal green almond shaped leaves that grow on the ground and in bushes. Some leaves have a red tint to the edges, the most basic form of the plant. When the poison ivy leaf contacts your skin or eyes, it becomes inflamed, and if not treated correctly, can cause fluid to build up under the skin. A rare case is when you breathe in the fumes of burning poison ivy; it’ll have the same effects as normal poison ivy but in some cases it can reach your organs.

Now is angel’s trumpet. Angel’s trumpet, or brugmansia, is known as a relative to the devil’s trumpet. It grows hanging down and is either pink, yellow, white, or purple. It is a cone-shaped flower, and is very pleasing to the eye but not safe to ingest. They look very dull compared to the devil’s trumpet, looking like orchids in the trees. Eating this plant can cause seizures, hallucinations, and in some cases death.

Lastly is stinging nettle. Stinging nettle, or urtica dioica, is one of the most known poisonous plants in North America. It has jagged leaves and an almost neon green color. It grows up in long stems with the stem even being covered in barbs. Making skin contact causes red wells to show up and become very itchy. This is due to the fact that it injects barbs into the skin it comes in contact with.

Now that orchid, water hemlock, castor bean, poison ivy, angel’s trumpet, and stinging nettle have been explained, I will list them to least poisonous to most. First off is oleander, next poison ivy, stinging nettle, castor bean, angel’s trumpet, then finally water hemlock as most poisonous.

Heavyn C. is an 8th grade writer at Mitchell Middle School.

The crowded train jerked to a stop, snapping Aaresh awake from her half-asleep state. This was her stop, the stop she had been getting off for the past four months since she started university. She shuffled to the train car’s doors, weaving through the large crowd of people of various species like a flock of tropical birds, a long-necked Cevanti, an isectoid six-legged Zark, a winged Rezon, and of course, Hesukar like her: reptillian, flat-faced, with six cone-shaped crests encircling their faces. They were mostly fellow students going to their housing after classes. The housing districts were purposely close to the stations for easy transportation.

As Asresh walked out onto the station and then out onto the main thoroughfare, she thought about her plan: get off of Providence, go join a research mission off in some far away system, make a major discovery by translating some ancient alien language, and live the rest of her life on a ship going from discovery to discovery. But that would have to wait five whole years. She looked up at the dome that offered a view of space. Though Providence was a vast city in the stars, orbiting the capital, Aaresh felt like she belonged up there. She sighed and walked through the housing district, which comprised blocks of tall plasteel buildings with hundreds of families that surrounded her at every step.

“One day,” she muttered to herself. “One day.”

She arrived at her building and stepped into her lobby. The entrance was large, with bathrooms and seating on one side and amenities on the other. The pool where she learned to swim was on this floor, how she wished to have learned on real soil. When she got to the front desk AI attendant, an orange and black humanoid robot without a face, chirped, “Welcome home, Miss K’larken.” 

Aaaresh used to think it was the coolest thing when she was a hatchling and would spend hours asking it questions, but today she ignored it and went to the elevator. As she ascended, she looked out at the seemingly endless expanse of plasteel buildings that reached to the ceiling. It was a view she’d seen almost every day of her life.

The elevator stopped on the seventy-third floor, her floor. She strode into her apartment, which was large and took up half their floor, the other half belonging to a human family. She noticed no one was home, her parents still working, and her grandparents likely at the senior citizens center, though stars know where her brother is. She headed straight to her room, putting her synthetic fiber bag on her bed when she arrived. She then rifled through it and pulled out her universal translator. It was a small metallic device, made to be inserted into the ear like earbuds. It was developed far off in the Republic of Tetromunda twenty years ago after the discovery of some ancient technology by a team of archaeologists uncovering a site on a forest world. She got her first when she entered school; they were a boon to schooling, as not every species can speak every language.

She put it on her metal desk, which was parallel to her bed. She got her screw driver and began to tinker with it. While she never was fascinated with machines as much as she was with language, she nevertheless found taking apart machines an enjoyable hobby, one she picked up young. She fiddled with the mechanisms that affected the input of sound, intending to simply see what the insides looked like. Once done, she put it back together and put it on.
“Brothers and Sisters of our brave order!” the translator yelled unexpectedly, “By the time dusk falls planet-side, the city’s capital hall of this foul city shall no longer stand. It shall fall beneath our might; our brethren have planted the charges, and when the civil servants start to leave, the hall shall fall.”

Aaresh, stunned, put down the translator. It was probably just an audiobook or movie audio that somehow got caught in the translator, she thought, trying to rationalize what she just heard. That isn’t—it can’t be.

But later that day, her grandfather burst into her room and announced, “By the stars, Aaresh the Capital was bombed. Though I hear no one is dead!”

2

Aaaresh had gone to the university’s library the day after. She could barely sleep with everything going through her head.

“What was that?” she had muttered to herself almost all day. The library was massive, containing some old books but primarily housing rows of computers with vast archives of files from every topic under the stars. On a digital board by the entrance, she noticed a missing notice for a human scientist, a Dr. Edward Campbel, who apparently helped design Providence. She found it odd but thought of it no further. 

She took her seat on one and then began to type anything she could think of. Universal translator, Universal translator bugs, Universal translator history, anything that could get her any closer to finding out what that was. After an hour, she was a lost soul in a labyrinth, looking everywhere but finding only dead ends. She put her head in her hands, accepting defeat until a voice spoke behind her.

“Excuse me, young miss.” It said. “Are you looking for something?” Aaresh looked up to see a Revlio, a reptilian species with two large crest-like horns and odd fleshy whiskers that swayed slightly. He was short, his scales were a dull orange with parts of white scattered on his skin; he looked older and experienced. 

“I was just looking for information about my Universal translator.” She answered, “But there’s nothing that answers my question.”

“Oh,” The Revlio replied. “Perhaps I may be of assistance. I’m not exactly a linguist or engineer, but I’ve seen much.”

“Well.” She paused, “Can you keep a secret?”

The Revlio smiled, “So long as you haven’t murdered anyone, yes.”

That made Aaresh grin, and she then told her everything about the prophetic transmission.

“Oh, it seems the Higher has ways of bringing people on the same path together,” He said, strangely lightly given the circumstances.

“What are you saying?” Aaresh asked, confused.

“This habitat was built using blueprints reverse-engineered from debris found in a system near the borders between our two nations,” The Revlio answered. Aaresh had heard of the Revlien’s home of Axpent, whose capital was covered in ruins of a civilization long gone. “I have reasonable suspicion that the debris was from an ancient Revlien space base. My life’s work has been uncovering that Revliens were once a major galactic player, and our homeworld has always been our own. If that transmission happens to be in Revlien, or a language similar to it, I will be vindicated.”

“Maybe when I  tinkered with my translator, it somehow became able to pick up and translate the Revlien,” Aareesh responded, beaming with excitement. “But do you have any idea how to track the signal?”

“I have a friend, more of a colleague actually, but nonetheless, he is a skilled engineer. I have been working with him, and if anyone can track this lead, it’s him.” The Revlien realized something and sat stunned before laughing, “Oh, goodness, I haven’t told you my name! I am Dr. Qotl Phectla, but you can just call me Phectla.”

“Aaresh, Aaresh K’larken.”

Phectla led her to the deeper, lower parts of Providence she had only heard of. While the habitat was largely safe, there was still crime of other kinds. Smuggling of all kinds was rampant in some of the poorer areas by the space ports, and this was where he took her. She weaved through the tide of people on the crowded streets, port workers returning home, and others starting their shift, following Phectla. She heard the noise of a thousand different voices caught up in their own world. He stopped at a small plasteel building and entered, entering a passcode on the door’s lock. Pectla soon followed him into the abode. It was cluttered, covered in machine parts and pieces of metal in various piles with no rhyme or reason as to the way they were arranged. Two doors in the back seemed to lead to a backroom, the entire place smelled oily.

“He uses this as his workshop,” Phectla explained. “Sakir! I have a lead on our search.”

A tall, lanky figure lurched out of a room in the back. It was a Cevant, a dark-furred species with long necks and limbs, and a pair of large wings that could only be used to glide. “Your search, Phectla, I am merely aiding you for a fee.” His glare turned to Aaresh and all but hissed,  “Who is that and why are they here?”

“She has the lead,” explained Phectla. “Now, go on, introduce yourself.”

“I am Aaaresh K’larken. I’m a linguistics Student at the University of Providence.”

“Well, I am Sakir Derom, proud graduate of the University of Sarude and the greatest engineering mind to come out there in two hundred years,” Sakir boasted.

“Why are you,” she paused, trying to find a way to say it and not sound rude, “here and not in Sarude?”

“Because they are scared of my genius!” he exclaimed. “I did something they didn’t like. Those fools thought I was reckless and unfit to practice my trade, even though my methods could have advanced every field of science decades past what they are today.”

“What did you do?”

“I’ll show you.”

“Perhaps we are getting off topic,” Phectla said, but Sakir was already marching to the backroom with Aaresh not far behind. He followed the two into the room, which was even more of a scrap heap than the main room, with parts of machinery piled in the corners. Near a table with a large computer terminal on it, on the right side of the room, was the main attraction, a floating robot with metal tendrils, an ellipsoid body, no head, and nine lights on its center. Parts of the body seemed to have been made of cobbled-together scrap metal; the name TALLIS was written on its side.

“What is it?” asked Aaresh.

“My genius,” Sakir boasted. “Have you heard of Xenir Prime? It’s a planet in the Xenir system surrounded by space controlled by the Sarude Republic. On it are machines like these. Studies from stations far above the planet showed they were calculating something. I was always fascinated by them, so when I graduated, I snuck onto the planet using a private starcraft, cloaked using a genius device of my own design, and stole it unplugging from its machine hive mind. But when I showed it to my colleagues, they said that I never should have stolen it and that I should destroy it. I said no and that they didn’t know what they were refusing, but those fools didn’t listen and then discredited me.”

“I’m sorry—” she started before she was interrupted by a sudden noise in her loud ear. A broadcast.

“Brothers and Sisters of our brave order!” the Broadcaster yelled triumphantly. “We have scored a great victory, while the governor yet lives, the people are shaken. Soon, the very fountains of this cursed place shall rock when in thirty days’ time we shall finally thrust this wretched city down onto Baalesh.”

“What was that?” Sakir inquired, while he didn’t hear the broadcast, Aaresh’s sudden silence shook him slightly.

“I just heard another broadcast,” Aaresh said, turning to Phectla.

“What broadcast?” Sakir asked intently.

Phectla explained everything about the broadcast, their possible connections to the Revilens, and their sinister intent.

“Give that to me,” Sakir demanded. “Your translator, let me see it. I have an idea to track that broadcast. My genius shall save Providence.” Aaresh complied and placed it in his hand. She then watched him insert a cord into the translator’s port and then plug it into the computer. He navigated his way to the files of the translator and looked at the files of saved conversations. 

“Here,” he said, looking at an audio file, “is one from a year ago.” He played it.

“Brothers and Sisters of our brave order!” the Broadcaster yelled. “Our mission to end this palace of fools continues as our mission to stop transit has been successful. The masses will be unable to commute to work, their productivity shall plummet.”

Aaresh looked at the file creation date and said, “I remember that day. That was the day the trains were stopped due to tampering. We couldn’t get to the rest of Providence unless by boarded a shuttle at a space port. Well, now we know they’ve been at it for a while, but how does this help us find them?”

“The files will have a location of where the conversation was held, this is usually the location where the speaker was, and not the listener,” Sakir explained, before grinning and looking towards Tallis. “And he will lead us right to it.” Sakir transferred the files to Tallis, and they were off.

3

They followed the robot through the thoroughfares and alleys. It floated off the ground, its tendrils flowing in the air like a steel squid. They got looks from the inhabitants of Lower Providence, three people of different species chasing after a floating robot was something that most thought would only be seen in some sort of old Sci-fi film from the 20th century. The trio passed rows of small metal houses, apartments, and shops, only making slight talk to pass the time.

“What was it like to grow up on a natural world?” Aaresh inquired as they turned a corner, plasteel shops surrounding them on two sides. “What was Sarude like?”

“Well, there was dirt, clouds, oceans. There was nothing really remarkable about it.” Sakir replied, confused and feeling like he couldn’t really answer her. “Why?”

“I’ve spent all but three days of my life on  Providence, and I feel like I’m born for everywhere but here. I’ve always wanted to see the stars and breathe real air, but I’m stuck between the two.”

“Well, you’re young. You’ll have the rest of your life to do, whatever a linguist does in space.”

“I’m going to join an archaeological expedition one day, and I hope to find and decipher an alien language. Then I’ll be famous and retire to live on a world with endless trees and oceans.”

“Well, remember to enjoy you’re home. You never know when you’ll leave for the last time,” He looked at Phectla. “Just not as much as him, he’s wasted so much of my time babbling about his dear homeworld Axpent.” Aaresh looked up, into the deep black ink that was the stars above Privodence, on the other side of the see-through habitat ceiling. She had seen this sight her whole life, but only now did she think she might miss it one day.

The Robot continued its hunt, hoving through the streets of Lower Providence like a beast on the hunt, the number of people they saw on the streets shrank by the mile, most were at work at this hour. They reached an area of apartments, while Aaresh’s were tall and reached toward the sky, these were small, wide, and colorless, with several packed in close. Tallis suddenly stopped at an apartment and turned toward the steps to the higher floors. The trio followed it winding through the stairs up the floors until they reached apartment 506. 

“Before we go in, do you have any way of defending ourselves?” asked Phectla, “They do not seem like the amiable sort.”

“I made some modifications to Tallis,” Sakir simply said, deciding to open the door. Tallis floated in, and what they noticed about the poorly lit room was in the center. It was about the size of a table with four legs, but made of a strange pale metal with glowing energy veins running straight lines across it. It was plugged into the wall, a terminal, and what seemed to be a wire going outside through a window. A screen was glowing on the flat surface, and a large microphone was set up on the left side of the room.

“By all that is Higher!” exclaimed Phectla, grinning like a madman, he sprinted toward it, his flesh whiskers flaing as he ran. “This matches the designs of some devices found in ruins on Axpent! This proves that there is some connection between the designs found decades ago and Axpent!”

Aaresh looked at the walls, black, unusual, she thought, then she saw the poster on the wall: A large red sky and humans with fists raised high, on it were the words, Anti-Alien Order of Humanity. This was certainly the place. Sakir was just about to look through the terminal when suddenly a man came out of what Aaresh assumed was the bathroom. He had greying brown hair and skin so pale it looked like he’d never felt the warmth of the sun. 

“Aliens!” He yelped before stepping backward. “What are you doing in my home? Who do you work for? Who sent you?” 

Aaresh recognized the face, “You’re Dr. Campbell! I saw a notice with your face on it, saying you were missing.”

“How did you find Alien scum?” He asked, finally taking his how outnumbered he was.

“We tracked your messages,” Aaresh answered. “You were broadcasting them, and my translator picked up the frequency when I messed with it. Why did you do all that? From what I read, you helped build Providence. Why destroy it?”

“That was only for funds, if I knew this place would be the result, I would have never agreed to it. This is a place of galactic unity, a place where the alien can mingle with those other than their kind and even with superior humanity. This is a place where the aliens can grow stronger together, the unification of the enemy.”

“I don’t view humans as the enemy,” Aaresh replied. She noticed Sakir whispering to Tallis.

“Why would I trust the word of an Alien who broke into my home? It won’t matter,” He pulled out a device. “With only a press of a button, I will set into motion the end of Providence—” His sentence was cut off by the zap coming from Tallis, stunning him. He hit the ground with a thud.

“Sakir, you should contact the authorities,” Aaresh said. “Also, nice going.”

“I should take this,” Phectla said, looking at the broadcasting device. “I wonder if I could convince the authorities to let me keep it?”

“I hope this proves you right,” replied Aaresh. The authorities soon came and searched the Dr’s terminal, seeing his messages. They took him away to be held for trial. Now that Aaresh had saved her home, she appreciated it a lot more. Maybe she thought, I shouldn’t be in such a rush to leave.

As Mia pulled onto the gravel road leading to her grandparents’ house, the crunch of gravel was like a calming melody, a relief from the constant silence of the twelve-hour drive. 

“Here we are, Lily, our new home,” Mia announced quietly, careful not to disturb her sleeping sister.  In the passenger seat, Conner, Mia’s best friend, yawned and stretched, his joints making popping noises.

“This place looks creepy,”  Conner remarked groggily, his eyes full of suspicion as he scanned the abandoned farmhouse in front of them. “Are you sure this place is even liveable? My apartment is still open if you need it.”

Mia just shook her head, although she secretly agreed with her friend. Everything about the house and the reason she was here made her want to grab her sister and run. Still, the need to know what happened to her grandmother outweighed Mia’s fear. 

“I’m sure it will be fine. How bad can it be?” Mia tried to put on a mask of confidence, but Mia wasn’t sure if she believed the words herself. Conner sighed and shook his head, his wavy blonde hair swaying with the movement, and the car finally came to a stop in front of the looming house that had once belonged to her grandparents, before Mia’s grandmother disappeared in the 1970s. This house, no matter how abandoned it looked, held all of the clues to what happened to her.

“If you say so,” Conner huffed bitterly, slipping his black headphones over his ears and pressing play on his iPod before opening the car door and stepping onto the cobbled driveway, concrete and gravel crunching under his feet. Then, Conner slammed the door shut, startling Lily awake.

What? Lily signed, her hands barely visible in the dark car. Conner?

“It’s okay, Lily. He’s just a little upset right now. Why don’t you put on your headphones while I go talk to him? I’ll be back soon, I promise,” Mia’s words comforted Lily, who nodded and started to dig through her backpack to find her headphones and iPod, pulling out sets of clothing and snacks as she dug through the bag.

With that settled, Mia took a shaky breath to calm herself and opened the car door, pulling the handle and listening for the click of the latch releasing, and feeling the cool midnight air that flooded the car when she opened the door. The ground was uneven under her feet as she stepped out of the car, and the air was much cooler outside than in the car. 

“What was up with that? You knew Lily was sleeping, why did you slam the door?” Mia fumed when she pried one side of Conner’s headphones off his ear, her voice wavering and cracking with emotion as a song by the Beatles played through Conner’s headphones.

“Why does it matter? She’s deaf,” Conner argued, rolling his eyes dismissively.

“Lily is nonverbal, not deaf, you know this, you’re the one who taught her sign language! God, what is up with you today!” Mia’s hands balled up into fists in anger, her nails pressing pink crescents into her palms as she tried, and failed, to keep her voice down.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that you dragged me out to this creepy house!”

“You didn’t have to come!”

“Whatever, I’m done with this argument,” Conner stated as he pulled a box from the trunk. Mia wanted to continue the argument, to soothe the rage that boiled beneath her skin, but she knew that arguing further could only make the problem worse. So, she took a deep, calming breath of the cool midnight air and grabbed a box labeled Clothes in her own sloppy handwriting.

To her right, Mia heard the slam that signaled a car door had closed, and she looked up to see Lily standing beside the car, the girl’s right hand pressed against the door, and Mia couldn’t help the smile that reached her face at the sight of her. Lily was the only family Mia had left after their parents had died in a car crash, and Mia was going to make sure her little sister was safe and happy.

“Lily, why don’t you go inside and pick your room?” Mia offered, gesturing to the house with a nod of her head. Lily hummed, the melodic sound cracking in her throat due to her lack of speech, then she nodded and turned to start walking along the stone path to the house, the keychains on her light blue backpack clacking against the car with the motion. Mia brought her thigh against the bottom of the box, her knee lifting it and allowing her to reposition the box in her hands, at the cost of a dent in the box and a bruise on her leg that would be purple by the morning, then she started walking to follow her sister.

As she walked, Mia’s thoughts wandered from avoiding the loose stones in the path, her body kicking into autopilot, to something she had pushed away for months since the accident that took the lives of her parents. For the first five years of her life, Lily was always loud and talkative. Even as a baby, she’d babble and laugh for hours. The only times Lily was silent were when she was asleep or when she was plotting something. However, it all changed the day after Lily’s sixth birthday, nearly seven months ago, when their parents were in a head-on collision with a drunk driver in a semi—who walked away with nothing but a DUI manslaughter charge, while her parents both died on impact. Lily hadn’t spoken since the accident.

Before they had died in the crash, her parents had given Mia instructions on what to do if and/or when they died. Their instructions were: pack up the essential items you need, get the money from the safe in the basement, grab Lily, get in the car, set the house on fire, and then drive off into the night and disappear into Mexico. Mia had followed their instructions exactly until the last one, because Mia was in Florida, not Mexico.

Some people say that you should do what someone says they want you to do after their death, and Mia would agree, if her parents were any other people. It was no secret to those around the Smith family that Bailey Smith and Tom Smith were paranoid people, conspiracy theorists who were afraid the government was out to get them. Mia knew it too—she’d thought everyone else was crazy until her parents wouldn’t let her go to school or get a driver’s license—but she wanted to know why. Why were her parents so paranoid that nobody, except Conner and his parents, knew that the Smiths had two daughters?

When her mind finally came back to the present, Mia realized that she was standing behind her father’s car and holding the last box that needed to be brought into the house. The box was labeled Memories. Mia regarded the box fondly, like one would a puppy bumbling after a butterfly, even though the box was light from being mostly empty. The manila colored sides were smooth and sturdy, closer in color to Mia’s tan complexion than the orange envelopes her parents often filled with newspaper clippings, labeling them as evidence that the government was watching them.

Suddenly, a horrible feeling came over Mia, a feeling that made her blood run cold. It was the feeling of being watched, eyes carving into her with their gaze. Her head snapped up, her eyes already scanning the shadows as her head swung side to side, trying to locate the source of the feeling. Then, she saw it, standing in the shadows of the house as it stared at her with cold, dead eyes. 

It was a monster with its bleached, leather-like skin tight over its bones. It looked humanoid, vaguely female even, with long, wet, black hair hanging in clumps from a nearly bare scalp. It was hunched over with visible ribs and a smile carved into its face. However, it wasn’t any of this that caught Mia’s attention—it was the bulging, dead eyes that popped out of the socket like a frog’s eyes. She could hear its breathing, labored and heavy like someone who’d just run a race. Then she blinked, and it was gone.

“What was that?” Mia muttered to herself, blinking the image from her mind. Maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me.

—

The next day, Mia gripped the steering wheel of her dad’s old car tightly as the car’s wheels drove over the dusty gravel, kicking up dust and rocks as she went. It was strange, driving into the town. It was once a thriving and wealthy place, but then the chemical plant shut down, and people started going missing. Some people blamed the townspeople for the disappearances, some blamed the chemical company, and some lunatics thought it was a massive gator in the swamp. No matter what caused it, the town was now a ghost town. Besides, Mia wasn’t one of those people, and she wanted answers. So, she pulled into the parking lot of the first store she found. 

Once she stepped inside, the ring of a bell announcing her entrance, Mia realized that the store looked like it had been trapped in the 80s, with bright, clean designs that caught her eye immediately. As she started to look around, the designs of the products looked like they were from the 80s as well, several of which had been discontinued in the early 90s.

“Can I help you with anything there, Sweetie?” A female voice with a thick southern accent asked from behind Mia, “My name is Mathilda.”

“Oh, yes, actually,” Mia paused to grab a photo of her grandmother, “This is my grandmother, she went missing in 1975 and her name was-”

“Sarah Smith,” The color seemed to drain from the woman’s already pale skin as she whispered the words, quiet like a secret, “We neva’ found her.” 

“Oh, what about the others who went missing?” Mia asked, going against her better judgment and pushing further. The woman’s eyes went wide as she pushed a lock of her long, blonde hair behind her ear and frantically looked out the window.

“I can’t tell ya, but Alex Reyes, the farmer up the road, might be able to—he’s the one who found most of ’em.” She said, leaning in close with her voice low, her hand covering her mouth like she was trying to hide the words, “But don’t ask how they got there, or you might not make it out alive.”

Something about this woman’s words made Mia’s blood run cold, like this wasn’t something she was supposed to know. Mia spoke one last time, her mouth dry, before leaving the store: “Thank you. And one last thing, what’s your name?”

“Mathilda, Mathilda Thompson, you can call me Mattie.” Mathilda’s face softened, then it became serious, “But don’t tell anyone that I told you.”

Mia nodded, her heart beating fast in her chest as she clutched the photo close. Something about this was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what. So, without saying another word, Mia left the store to find the farmer the shopkeeper had told her about.

—

“Hey, are you Alex?” Mia asked as she walked up to the man, who was loading bags of feed into the back of his truck.

“Oh, yep! That’s me. Say, I haven’t seen your face around here before, are you new?” Alex talked quickly, like he was in a rush, but he seemed cheerful.

“Yes, I moved into that abandoned house down the road just yesterday, and I was wondering if-”

“You ain’t no fed, right?” Alex’s cheerful demeanor suddenly changed completely, becoming serious and cold, “Because I got a shotgun in my truck if you are. Those girls’ deaths save us.”

“What? No- I’m not working for the government!” 

“Good, then what did you need?”

“I-I wanted to know what happened to my grandmother, her name was Sarah Smith,” Mia stated, holding out a picture of her grandmother. 

“Ah, Sarah,” Alex’s voice conveyed a hint of sadness, his demeanor was solemn and no longer threatening, but Mia couldn’t forget the way he had threatened her, “We never found her, I don’t know what happened to her, but she was never the same after her little girl was born.”

“And the others?”

“I can’t tell. It was the church’s doing, not mine.”

“Who should I ask?”

Alex turned and opened the door to his truck as he spoke, “Father Simon, he’s been the priest at the church for the past forty years.” 

“Thank you, Alex,” Mia thanked the man, standing on the sidewalk as he started the red truck and drove off, kicking up dust and dirt that clogged Mia’s lungs and left her feeling unable to breathe, coughing as her lungs protested.

—

As Mia stood before the church doors, a feeling of overwhelming dread came over her, like the ground was going to swallow her whole. Despite the dread curling in her gut, Mia needed answers, and this was the only way to get them. So, she pressed her hand against the metal door and pushed it open. 

Inside the church, the first thing that caught Mia’s eye was the stained glass windows that cast the church in a splash of hundreds of different colors. The second thing that she saw was the priest, and he didn’t look like any priest she had ever seen before. Most priests Mia had met or seen were clad in black robes and standing at the front of the church. However, Father Simon was wearing dull green robes with flashes of a dull red fabric underneath them. 

“Ah, hello, my child. May I help you?”  Father Simon asked, wheeling over to Mia in a wheelchair, which she hadn’t even noticed he was sitting in. As he got closer, Mia noticed more about him. His hair was grey with small patches of brown, he had a scar on his left cheek, he had hearing aids, but most of all, she noticed his eyes. His eyes were two different colors, one a vibrant teal and the other a wise green. Father Simon’s eyes were soft and kind, welcoming in their appearance.

“Yes, it’s about Sarah Smith, the woman who went missing in the 70s. Do you know what might have happened to her?” Mia held out the picture of her grandmother for the priest to take.

“Ah, Sarah, she was rather troubled after your mother’s birth,” Father Simon ran his fingers over the photo as he spoke, his eyes trailing her face. “She just walked into the swamp one night and never came back.”

“How did you know?” Mia asked, a mix of confusion and apprehension lacing her voice.

“You have the same eyes.”

Mia paused for a moment, chewing over her words carefully, “What about the other girls?”

For a long, tense moment, Father Simon didn’t respond, only looking at the photograph with a lost look in his eyes, “Do you have someone you would do anything to protect?”

“Yes,” Mia answered, the word coming to her as easily as breathing.

“I did too. My two daughters meant the world to me, but when the chemical plant opened, everything was put in great danger.” Father Simon paused to let out a shaky breath, like he was caught in a memory, “It woke up because of that plant, and it took my daughter and several others. We thought that, if we gave it offerings and sacrifices, it would see that we meant no harm and it would leave us alone for just a bit longer.”

“It?”

“The Loving One, we called it, an act of our Lord himself.”

“Did it work?” 

“For a little bit, it did. But then it grew hungrier and violent. It trapped us here.”

“What do you mean it trapped you?”

“You’ve seen how this town is stuck in time? We’ve been trapped for twenty years.”

“You’ve been stuck in the 80s?” Mia whispered, breathless like the air had been forced from her lungs. Father Simon didn’t say anything, but he nodded in confirmation.

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“I’m afraid not. Is there anything else that you need?” Father Simon handed the photo back to Mia with shaking hands, his face still kind, but his eyes were tinted blue with grief.

“There is one more thing. I saw this creature, it looked like a monster, but also like a human. Its skin was leathery, like a-”

“Bog body?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Sometimes the sacrifices crawl back to town from the swamp; they’re dangerous creatures, but I thought we got rid of them all. Follow me,” Father Simon gestured for Mia to follow him with a wave of his hand, then he started to push himself in his wheelchair towards a space behind the altar.

“How are they dangerous?” Mia questioned as she followed close behind him, a morbid sense of curiosity coming over her.

“They drag your loved ones into the swamp and drown them there,” he replied, pulling a jug of gasoline, matches, and salt from underneath a hidden trapdoor and handing them to Mia.

“What’s this for?”

“Getting rid of the creature.”

“How do I do that?” Mia’s voice was starting to become panicked as fear overtook her.

“Find their body in the swamp, and burn it.” Father Simon’s voice was calm and serious as he spoke, “You must hurry. There isn’t much time before-”

“Mia!” A voice called out as someone burst through the church doors. It was Conner.

“Conner? What’s wrong? Where’s Lily?” Mia asked as she raced to Conner’s side, catching him before he collapsed onto one of the pews.

“A monster took Lily!” Conner cried, clutching his side in pain.

“How? What happened?”

“It broke into the house right after you left and took her from her room. I tried to stop it, but it got me!” Conner winced as he pulled his jacket away, revealing three deep, bloody claw marks that stretched the length of his right side. They were bleeding heavily. So, Mia took Conner’s jacket and pressed it against his wound as she continued to question him.

“How did you get here?” Mia asked frantically.

“It doesn’t matter how he got here,” Father Simon interrupted, wheeling over to them. “I’ll take care of him, you go save your sister.”

Mia nodded, she didn’t have to be told twice, and ran out the door to her car, quickly jumping into the driver’s seat and jamming the key in to start the car, turning it twice until she heard the car start. Once she heard the purr of the engine, Mia slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

“I’m coming, Lily, just be okay until I get there.”

—

Mia heard the tires squeal and smelled the burning rubber as she turned the car into the driveway, slamming her foot on the brakes and almost rolling the car in the process of stopping it. But Mia didn’t care; her sister was in danger. Mia jumped out of the car and grabbed the gasoline, matches, and salt from the passenger seat, not even bothering to close the doors as she ran in the direction of the swamp.

Mia could hear her feet pounding on the earth as she sprinted toward the swamp, raindrops starting to splash against her, storm clouds making the sky dark. Mia heard the crackling of thunder in the distance, like a warning siren screaming at her to run faster, the following flashes of lightning like the flashing lights of a building in lockdown.

Mia didn’t need to be told when she crossed the line into the swamp; she could feel it in the way her feet sank into the earth, and the air smelled like mud and decomposing plants. With each step that brought her deeper into the swamp, her feet sank deeper into the rain-soaked mud. Mia ran, even though she didn’t know where she was headed, and she shivered in a useless attempt to stay warm despite the heavy rain that beat down on her, soaking her to the bone. Water splashed as her feet disturbed puddles on the ground. 

Mia could feel the eyes of wildlife and something that felt distinctly other, like something not from this world, on her back, but she couldn’t stop. She saw flashes of life in the undergrowth, snakes and reptiles hiding from the rain, then she heard something, a scream. Her sister’s voice carried over the swamp like an alarm, and Mia focused on it, ignoring how she was covered in mud and the way she knew something, something that gave off an overwhelming feeling of a higher being, was stalking her through the swamp. Mia knew that whatever was following her wasn’t the monster that had taken her sister, it was something much worse. Maybe that was why she didn’t notice the root sticking out of the ground until it was too late, until she had already tripped over it.

Mia let out a scream as her foot caught on the root, sending her crashing to the wet, muddy ground. She coughed as mud and dirty water flooded her mouth, overloading her senses with the gritty taste of mud and peat. Mia scrambled to get up, her fingers clawing at the ground as she pulled herself through the muck, praying to happen upon a skeleton or some sort of remains.

The rain still pouring down on her, Mia used the last bit of her strength to pull herself forward until she found it, a skeleton lying half-submerged in the mud. This was her only chance to save her sister. Then, at that moment, lightning flashed, casting the shadow of a hunched-over, skeletal figure standing over her.

Mia looked up, the rain plastering her hair to her face, as she laid eyes upon the monster who had taken her sister. It was an ugly creature, horrifying to look at, but Mia recognized something in its face. As Mia stared the monster in the face, she recognized blue eyes that looked like her own, sitting in the sunken eye sockets of the creature’s face.

Time seemed to slow, and for a long moment, Mia Smith and Sarah Smith stared at each other, the rain beating down on them both, for what felt like years, even though it might’ve only been a few seconds. Then, Mia remembered what she was there for. She had no time to delay, her sister needed her. So, putting her feelings aside, Mia grabbed the salt and poured it onto the skeleton, then she grabbed the gasoline and poured it over the sun-bleached bones. Finally, Mia pulled a match from the box of matches and struck it against the side of the box, igniting it. Mia brought the match to her face, studying the flame, then she dropped the match onto the remains, watching it ignite. 

Mia jumped back as the creature standing above her exploded into flames, the flames from the skeleton scorching her skin. Mia let out a hiss of pain as she stumbled backwards into the cool mud, the creature screaming above her in both agony and resignation. She watched as it began to fade into dust, its screams starting to fade. Then, it was gone.

Just like that, the rain began to lighten up, eventually dissipating completely as the clouds cleared from the sky, revealing a sun that shone bright in the sky. It was absurd to her, how something as violent as burning the remains of her grandmother’s body had caused something so clear and calm.

“Lily!” Mia shouted, her hands, still coated in mud and Conner’s blood, cupped around her mouth as she called out to her sister, “Lily!”

Just then, Lily ran from the undergrowth, where the monster must have dropped her, muddy handprints on her shirt from where the monster had held her, and tears streamed down the girl’s face as she ran toward her older sister. Mia held out her arms for her sister, who took the invitation immediately and jumped into Mia’s arms. Mia wrapped her arms around her sister’s small frame, tears clearing streaks down her freckled face that was mottled with mud, and buried her face in her sister’s brown hair. The movement aggravated the burns on her skin, but Mia didn’t care; Mia had Lily safe in her arms, and that was all that she cared about in that moment.

—

Mia carried Lily on her hip as she walked through the doors of the church, walking with a limp from the sprained ankle she’d gotten when she tripped. The church was the same as the way she left it, but it was also different in a way that she couldn’t explain, like someone had entered and taken something, but Mia couldn’t figure out what.

“Mia, you’re back, so I assume you’re rid of the creature,” Father Simon observed when he noticed the pair.

“Yeah, I’ve got a few burns from the fire, though,” Mia admitted, putting Lily down on one of the pews. “Why was she still left?”

“First, let me see those burns. And second, we didn’t know she was out there; we thought they were all gone.” Father Simon patted the pew next to him, his hand silent against the cushioned seat. Mia limped to the pew, air hissing between her teeth from the pain. Once she had made it to the pew, Mia collapsed onto it with a sigh, despite the way it pulled on her burns. Father Simon pulled a medkit into his lap and sorted through it until he found some burn cream and gauze to wrap the burns.

“How’s Conner?” Mia hissed as the priest started to clean her wounds.

“He’s resting, his wounds had to be stitched shut, but luckily we have a young man who was training to be a doctor before we got stuck in time and lost connection with the outside world.”

“How does it all work, getting stuck in time? Do you not age?”

“No, we do not age, nor do anything that is living; it’s as if time doesn’t affect us. Nothing spoils, nothing rusts, nothing ever changes,” Father Simon explained.

“That’s fascinating,” Mia admitted in wonder, looking over to her sister, “How did no one outside the town know?”

“I assume that’s Lily, your sister? And, the outside world has no clue that this town exists; your mother is the only person to have ever left the town.” 

“Yes, did Conner tell you about her, or my parents?”

“He didn’t tell me directly, but he told Salem, the doctor,” Father Simon paused to tie off the roll of gauze that he had used to wrap Mia’s arm, and handing her the wet washcloth he had used to clean her arm, “Are you planning to stay?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I think it might be for the best if we do,” Mia explained, the cool dampness of the washcloth felt heavenly against her skin.

“I think it might be best if you do,” a new voice added. Mia turned to see a man guiding Conner to one of the pews, “It’ll be best if his wounds have time to heal before you leave.”

“Mia, this is Salem, the doctor. Salem, this is Mia, my great-granddaughter.” Father Simon introduced them, as Salem held out a hand for Mia to shake, which she accepted.

“Good to know there’s someone taking care of his stubborn butt,” Mia joked as she shook his hand.

“I’m not stubborn!” Conner protested with a huff, his cheeks pink from embarrassment.

“Yes, yes you are,” Salem stated in a soothing tone, making Conner’s cheeks flush red from embarrassment, or something else. At that moment, Mia made a decision as she watched Lily run to Conner’s side; they were going to stay. The town of Gatorsville was going to be their new home.

I could hear footsteps behind me, but when I turned around, no one was there.

I swear I could hear the old floorboards creak, even when I was standing like a stone statue. The only reason I came downstairs was because the house went pitch black; the electrical panel was located downstairs.

My mother and I moved into this house about 2 weeks ago, and since then I have felt something off and not how you would imagine. My mother loves all old, Victorian houses, so as you would presume, that’s why we are here today. As I continued taking the tiniest of baby steps, I still heard the sound following me, not leaving.

Once I finally reached the panel, the rusted metal board that should have sealed it shut was missing, the panel swung open. I gasped, neither me nor my mother had ever been in the basement since the realtor gave us the tour. I should know since both my mother and I are not big at exploring, especially black basements.

To my knowledge nobody has been down here. I laughed, the silliest idea floated around in my head.

What if whatever it is never left?

I pinched myself, I couldn’t think of that “theory” for another second. Couldn’t even be possible, the house was up for sale for years… though… no, stop it! I finally looked at what I came down here for, the panel. Which seemed to have marks wrapped around the red wires, teeth, no fangs? I have no idea but there was damage done to the panel, non-human, whatever did it.

I ran so fast; I flew up the stairs. Blackness hugged me. I raced to get to my mother to explain what I saw and what happened.

My mother’s room was on the 2nd level of the 116-year-old house. I was losing air but determined to explain to my mother what happened. I arrived at her room, empty. Wait, no that’s not right, she barely leaves her room, only for meal times, but it’s 3 in the afternoon. The bathroom, then… which the room, is a master; the bathroom is right connected to it. She would hear me yell “Mom,” and peek her head around.

That didn’t happen. 

I ran back down stairs, now having trouble not tripping over items in the dark, yelling “Mom!”

*thud*

I tripped over a … wait… what?

I can’t make out what the “item” is, the darkness swept my vision. I swear… no? It can’t be, a hand? I must be hallucinating. There’s no way.

My vision is blurring, tears filling my eyes. A light turns on, in the kitchen, I think. I stumble and pick myself up again, pushing myself to see what is going on. How could a light turn on? I gasp.

My mother… she’s alive.

“Hello honey,” she says in a rather raspy, deep voice, not hers.

Her eyes, not the same jade green-ish they always have been.

Wait this doesn’t make sense, that hand? Whose hand?

The lights start to flicker. My “mother” disappears.

Zoey is a 6th grade writer.

A long time back, eons ago, lived 7 celestial guardians: the Wind Guardian, Sun Guardian, Water Guardian, Fire Guardian, Moon Guardian, Frost Guardian, and the Time Guardian. They each had their own realms correlating to their powers and titles.

 The Wind Guardian lived in a lush, ever-growing forest, populated with more flowers and bird songs every day of spring. The Sun Guardian lived in a forest as well. However, hers had flowing yellow lakes, sparkling and glittering as the sun shone its light on it. Small sunfish swam in the ponds and streams, making treats for her cats and other friendly creatures.

One day, three cruel fairies played a prank on the Wind Guardian, adding drops of a special love potion, created by the Moon Enchantress, into his drink. The Wind Guardian fell enthralled with the Fire Guardian, leaving the Sun Guardian devastated and depressed.

Deep in her kingdom, her peers grew worried. She was the only Guardian able to make the sun rise and fall, leaving the citizens of every kingdom on Earth in the cold, never-ending twilight. Many travelers tried to convince her to please get up and help them, but it was no use. She stayed in her dark room, the only light being the twinkling of the gems on her head, slowly dying every day. She had no energy left to bring back the warm sun.

Once the gems on her head stopped twinkling, she was forced into a deep slumber on the Day of the Dead.

Blinded by her own self-loathing, she hadn’t gotten up for months on end, but in her restless dreams, she was standing, walking even. It seemed she was in a palace of some sorts but not hers. Soft music echoed from behind a golden corridor, and when she stepped in, she was met by spirits dancing with each other, swaying to the song. As she passed through different ghosts and ghouls, a path opened to a tall spirit wearing a suit and long white hair.

“Please,” the spirit held out his hand towards her. “Dance with me.”

The Sun Guardian was almost too stunned to speak, but as she gripped hands and gently waltzed with him, all her worries faded. She forgot about the Wind Guardian, only focused on the delicate way the spirit held her hands.

As the ballroom’s grandfather clock ticked to 12AM, she was forced to leave the spirit world.

“I don’t know when, but I will see you again, my sun. Promise,” the Spirit said, looking at her solemnly through white eyes. “So until then, take care of yourself for me, okay?”

She didn’t understand why she had to wake up, but her face gems were shimmering again with yellow light. For days on end, she had the same recurring dream of the spirit sitting in a dull garden, late at night. As if waiting for her to return to him. Longing for her to. The Sun Guardian knew what she had to do.

The next day, she woke up and immediately commanded her gardeners to create an exact replica of her dream, using the last of her energy to stand around. As they finished, it was nearing midnight. The Sun Guardian slipped into the middle of the garden and lie on the grass. As if the ground was hugging her, she felt heat rising into her body as her head gems dimmed out like a torch in the wind.

In her last moments before falling into a lifetime slumber, she felt only warmth. Only love.

Athena S. is a 6th grade writer.

The bus hit a bump and everyone flew up in the air and then back down again.

“Ugh I don’t think I can survive another hour in here!” My best friend, Savannah, groaned.

“Me too,” I agreed.

It was senior year of high school, and our school decided the best way to spend our last week was camping in the middle of nowhere. Savannah was dreading it more than I was, though, and I couldn’t blame her because Alexis, her bully since 7th grade, was coming along. Alexis is a pretty, dirty blonde with green eyes, the type of girl every guy would dream of dating. But I could give you 100 reasons why Savannah is prettier. Although Alexis is pretty, she’s fake. She uses her “friends” for compliments and so she doesn’t feel like the horrible person she is.

Savannah is the complete opposite personality wise. She always thinks of others before herself, and even despite everything Alexis has said and done, Savannah never is rude back. Sometimes I get mad that she doesn’t defend herself because I know how much it hurts her.

Savannah is perfect in every way. She has a 4.0 GPA, she’s good at practically every sport, and she has brown hair and eyes like me, but she has gorgeous freckles that compliment her face.

“Blaire?” I hear Savannah say.

‘What?” I ask.

“Oh well you were zoning out and Finnegan was trying to talk to you.”

“Fish?!” I shout.

Fish, my boyfriend since freshman year. He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, and I’ve called him Fish since when we first met, he spilt water all over himself, and it just makes sense, his name being Finn-egan, after all.

I turn around to face the bus aisle and see Fish looking at me with those blue eyes. He played with his wavy black hair that looks silver in the sunlight.

“Hey Blaire, room for one more?” He asked with a smirk.

I looked at Savannah and she nodded in agreement.

“Yeah of course!” I said and scooted over.

Finally after what seemed like days of trying to talk over screaming people on the bus, we made it to the campground. Savannah, Fish, and I walked off the bus and met up with the teachers.

“Hello seniors! I’m glad everyone made it here safely. Please find your homeroom teacher so we can take attendance and show everyone to their designated cabin,” Miss. Parce announced.

“Bye Fishy. See you at the bonfire tonight,” I told Fish and hugged him.

Savannah and I luckily shared the same homeroom teacher, who was Miss. Parce.

“Hello ladies.” Miss. Parce greeted us with a smile.

Her short dark blonde hair flowed in the wind. Miss. Parce is my favorite teacher; she’s pretty and easy going, unless you get on her bad side. She marked some stuff off the clipboard once more people in our class joined.

“Okay, looks like everyone is here. Follow me ladies and gentlemen!” Miss. Parce announced.

Our whole group followed her to the right side cabins.

“This side of the campground is only ladies so boys hold tight,” she told us.

We followed her cabin to cabin until I heard my name be called.

“We have Blaire and Savannah…” Miss. Parce looked closer at the clipboard.

“Oh! From the other homeroom is Alexis and Elena. You girls can go ahead and get settled.”

My heart dropped. Alexis and her friend Elena? Bunking with us? We are not surviving this.

Savannah and I sat on the top bunk writing each other stuff on a piece of paper because we couldn’t let them hear. Alexis and Elena were on the bottom bunk snickering, probably talking about all the things they could do to Savannah while she was sleeping.

If you want I can ask to move cabins? I wrote and passed it to her.

No. It’s fine, besides Miss. Parce was very clear: NO ROOM CHANGES. Savannah wrote back.

I was starting to write how Miss. Parce would understand since Alexis has been a bully since the beginning of time, but I was interrupted from a knock on the door.

“Ladies! Bonfire!” Mr. Bee shouted from outside our cabin.

“Finally we can leave this place,” I muttered.
…
The bonfire was over quickly since we spent most of our day getting here. It was mostly explaining what activities we will be doing and when we are supposed to go to sleep and wake up. Even though it was boring, we at least got to make s’mores.

Savannah and I were already snuggled up in our pajamas and in bed.
“Goodnight,” I whispered to Savannah.

“Night,” She responded.
…

I felt someone shake me violently. I pulled the covers over my head, annoyed with the rude awakening.

“Just five more minutes!” I snapped.

“Blaire! This is serious!” I could hear Savannah’s voice crack when she said it.

I pulled the covers off my face and waited for my eyes to adjust. I stared at Savannah’s face; she was clearly crying, her face all puffy and red. She was still in her pajamas, but her sleeves were soaked. I sat up and held her hand which was freezing cold.

“Here, you need to warm up!” I said and gave her my blanket.

She took a deep breath and her lip quivered.

“What happened? Are you okay?” I interrogated.

She sat down beside me, and I put my arm around her. She smelled like the outside and the lake. I then noticed that Alexis and Elena were gone, so I checked my phone: 3:24 in the morning!

“Savannah please tell me what happened!” Now I sounded scared.

She took some deep breaths. “Alexis she- she woke me up in the middle of the night and told me that we should sneak out on a kayak and go have some fun. She probably was going to do something to embarrass me but I was tired so I went along with it.”

I nodded to show her I was still listening.

“So we all got on a kayak together even though it was cold and the water was even colder. Alexis and Elena talked the whole time, so I just zoned out until Alexis stopped paddling. She told me we should go swimming, and I of course said no. She got really mad and she was going to push me into the water! But I..” Savannah paused.

She started crying again, so I patted her back to get her to calm down.

“I didn’t let her push me, of course! So, I pushed her back. She fell into the water, but it’s like the lake swallowed her. It was so dark I could barely see the water. Elena and I tried reaching for her, but the current almost took us too! The water was so cold my fingers practically turned blue. We paddled back terrified, and we didn’t know what to do. Once we got to shore, Elena decided she was going to paddle back with her phone flashlight to find her, but I know she is already dead. I killed Alexis.” Savannah barely got the last part out and was practically out of breath.

I stared at her for a few seconds, not sure what to do. I didn’t even know what to think. I was proud of Savannah for finally defending herself, but it wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“I- you didn’t kill her if you let her push you that would have been you!” I finally got out.

Savannah sniffed and looked up at me.

Suddenly there was a banging on the door. Crap! I slowly walked and opened the door, Mr.Bee. I looked behind him and saw Elena, her head was down and she was soaking wet.

“Sorry to intrude at such a late hour, but it seems you were all up anyway. Elena won’t tell me why she was polar plunging with a kayak at this late hour, so I was assuming maybe you ladies would?” He questioned in his serious voice.

Savannah walked up behind me.

“Isn’t there four of you? Where is the other one?” He walked into our cabin and I froze.

…

Blue, red, Blue, red. The lights flashed in my eyes. At this point everyone was awake.

“Blaire!” I heard Fish in the distance, but I just stood there and kept staring at the police car.
I heard his steps get closer and louder. Savannah was in the back of the car. She was going to be taken to the station to be questioned along with Elena. I probably would too.

“Blaire!” Fish was right next to me now.

“Hey,” I mumbled.

“W-what happened?” he said out of breath.

I looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes. I didn’t want to talk, not at all. So I didn’t. I just fell into his arms and cried because that’s all I could bring myself to do. I don’t even know why I was crying. I didn’t go through what they all did; I was just confused and upset. I wasn’t in the kayak, I didn’t see it happen but something about it felt… wrong.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the officers step away from the group of teachers, talking to his radio.

I could just barely catch what he was saying. “Yeah, we’ve got something… about 50 feet from the shoreline, No, not her, a bag. Heavy. Looks like it was weighed down.”

And just like that, I couldn’t breathe. There was more to this story than just what Savannah had been through.

Audreyann Dalton is a 7th grade writer.

1915, Durango, Mexico

“Papa, leave?” asked 2-year-old Marta curiously, watching her father pull on his military suit. Mateo, Marta’s older brother, was in the other room getting ready just as Carlos, Marta’s father, was. The lights in the room were slowly going out, slowly making the room dimmer each day, but at least the room was clean, except for all the laundry on the ground in Mama and Papa’s room.

“I am sorry pumpkin,” responded Carlos. “Buggy has got to leave too. We will be back soon, I promise. Take good care of Mama for me?” 

Marta responded by tottering out of the room, almost tripping over the clothing on the ground, and into Mateo’s room, where Marta’s crib was. There, she could see her older brother pulling on the same military suit Papa was wearing, just in a much smaller size. Marta’s older brother was only 13, and her father was 42. 

“Hey, Bubs,” said Mateo once he saw Marta tottering into the room. “While I’m gone, will you take care of Mama? This is going to be hard on her,” whispered Mateo, sighing. 

“Papa tell me,” replied Marta, giggling. 

“Papa already told you to take care of Mama? I guess he beat me to it,” said Mateo, smiling. “I am really going to miss you Bubs, even more than I thought I would.”

4 years later

1919, Durango, Mexico

There was a loud knocking at the door. 

“Papa and Buggy are home!” exclaimed Marta as she struggled through her excitement to unlock the apartment door. Their apartment was in the center of Durango, Mexico. But they won’t be there for long. They will soon be moving to Oklahoma to escape the Mexican Revolution.

“Hey! There’s my pumpkin,” said Papa through the apartment door. Marta finally got the door open, revealing how tall Mateo was now and how much older he looked. He had a scruffy beard and much bushier eyebrows, and his hair almost covered his ears entirely.

“Hey, Bubs! Wow, have you gotten tall, and look how long your hair has grown!” exclaimed Mateo running his fingers through Marta’s hair. 

“Same for you, Buggy! Mama will not approve of this hair. She will say you look like a saggy dog!” said Marta giggling just as she used to. As if on cue, Camila, Marta’s mother, walked into the room saying, “Mijo, your hair. I will give it a trim right after dinner tonight. You will need a fresh start before we move,” Camila bossed while smiling and hugging her son.

4 months later

1919, Oklahoma, United States of America

“Mija! We are here! We are in the United States!”  exclaimed Camila, aggressively shaking Marta. When Marta did not wake up, Camila said, “Marta! We are here. Wake up!”

“Mama, Mama. I am awake. Where is Papa and Mateo?” said Marta drearily.

“They are already in the back unloading our luggage, I have been trying to wake you up for 15 minutes.” 

“The important thing is I am up now so, let’s go!” Marta and Camila got off the train to help Papa and Mateo unpack their luggage and back onto the new train that will take them right to their new neighborhood. The whole family gets to the house in about 3 days total. Once they have entirely moved into the house, everything goes back to normal. Marta goes to her brand new school, Mateo has gotten a new job at the railroad station, and Camila and Carlos have gotten jobs working at a farm. Life was going pretty great until Carlos got a message sent from the army saying they needed backup and could use all the retired military soldiers they could get. Carlos being the kind person he is, agrees to help protect his country.

“I will be back soon, kids,” says Carlos, kissing each of their foreheads. 

“Papa, can’t I come with you?” asked Mateo pleading to his father.

“No son, I don’t want you coming with me.”

“Why, Papa? Why can’t I come with you?” 

“Because you are too young and the war is getting more dangerous,” responded Carlos sighing. “I will go myself, and that is final. I am going to pack my bags,” Carlos began walking out of the room and into his bedroom. Camila was already in there getting his things ready to leave. 

“Do you think Papa is going to come back?” Marta asks Mateo, whispering.

“I don’t know, Bubs. Papa said the war was getting more dangerous.” Mateo whispers back. “We will just have to see; only time will tell.”

3 months later

1920, Oklahoma, United States of America

“Ding Dong!” goes the doorbell.

“Mama! I think Papa is home!” Marta screams down the hallway while almost faceplanting onto the stairs.

“Is he really back?!” exclaimed Camila and Mateo, sprinting after her and almost faceplanting themselves. Everyone was shaking with excitement as they tried to open the door. When they opened it, they saw a soldier dressed in a military suit much darker than usual. He had a sorrowful look on his face.

“Where is Carlos?” Mama says with worry cracking in her voice. 

“We found his body this morning… on the battlefield with dried blood all over his chest. We had no idea how long he had been there, and when he got shot,” replied the soldier with the same cracking voice as Mama.

“He’s alright though?” asked Marta almost in tears. All the soldier could do was shake his head.

“No, they declared his death this afternoon. We are going to bury him on this date if you would like to come, there will be food,” the soldier said as he handed Camila an index card with scraggly writing on it in a dried-out black pen. “Oh, and here is your Mexican flag, it’s just what we do when a Mexican soldier dies, their family gets a Mexican flag to remember him by,” the soldier added. 

Everyone just started to cry, nobody said anything, just crying. Camila knew they would have to leave their house, but she just couldn’t tell the kids just yet; they loved this house and Camila couldn’t just drop the hammer on them now. Everyone but kids knew no woman could own property or a house. Mateo wasn’t old enough to own the house either, you had to be 21. Once the soldier left they thanked him for his journey and Camila made a call to Carlos’s brother, Antonio. Camila just started to break down, she ran to her room and cried into her pillow until there were no tears left in her body to cry. They would have to leave for his camp in Arvin, California, and their whole lives would turn upside down.

3 years later

1923 Arvin, California, United States of America

“Mama, but I don’t want to work in the fields! I want to go play like a normal girl, I want to go to school just like everyone else! It’s boring doing the same thing every day, waking up, going to work, coming home, going to bed, it gets boring!” screamed Marta from her room.

“Marta Elena Torres! You will not speak to your mother that way! We are doing our best without Papa, and I can’t do anything that he’s…” Camila paused, not wanting to finish that sentence.

“I’m sorry Mama, I shouldn’t have said that,” said Marta crying. “I just don’t like to work and want to be like a normal 10-year-old girl.”

“I’m also sorry, Mija. I am doing my best but I lost all our money when your father died because the money was in his bank… the bank I can no longer access,” responded Mama sighing. “How about we try to make the most of what we have, and not think about the bad things. Our life could be a lot worse, we could be in a camp with worse conditions, not have enough money for rent, or the camp could be starving us to death. We at least get 3 meals a day here.”

“I like that idea, Mama.” Marta then hugged her Mama and after that day Marta never complained about working in the fields again. She also never said any of her complaining out loud, she said all of it in her head, in her own thoughts.

4 months later

1923 Arvin, California, United States of America

Marta was working in the field as per usual, it was 1:00 in the afternoon, Marta had just eaten lunch and returned back to work. Over the past 4 months, Marta had been able to keep her out-loud complaining to a minimum, but she often complained in her own head and was looking for some type of entertainment. A type of funny entertainment, like laughing at someone. Marta was surviving without any friends, they just slowed her down. But maybe she did need friends, perhaps she just wanted someone to laugh with, not to laugh at someone. Marta didn’t have any friends but there were also no girls her age around her tent that she had ever talked to.

“Maybe I could give bullying a shot, I could bully the people, laugh at them and I wouldn’t be bored!” Marta whispered to herself. Marta thought it was the perfect plan, she would start tomorrow in the morning. She would bully the other girls working in the fields with her, she always thought their clothes were ugly anyway. She had her whole plan throughout.

1 day later

1923 Arvin, California, United States of America

“Hey, Victoria! Come over here, I need to tell you something,” Marta yelled to Victoria across the field. Victoria dropped her tools and ran over to Marta.

“Yes Marta, what’s up?” Victoria asked when she ran over.

“I was looking out for you, and your outfit looks kind of horrendous. I just think you can do so much better than that,” responded Marta with a smug look on her face. Victoria looked at her stunned, she said nothing and ran off almost bawling her eyes out. Marta knew her family didn’t have much, they had even less than Marta’s family did. Marta stood there and laughed so hard she couldn’t even keep herself steady on her feet, she fell to the ground and kept laughing. 

“Oh, this is even funnier than I thought it would be!” Marta whispered to herself while laughing on the ground. Marta continued to bully, she bullied babies, young girls, young boys, she bullied everyone. But she wouldn’t bully anyone around her family, so they wouldn’t find out her secret. Marta also felt that something was missing, a type of, “Is this wrong?” feeling. Marta decided to ignore the feeling and to continue with what made her laugh.

1 month later

1923 Arvin, California, United States of America

Marta runs up to Munoz’s truck, she always runs up to their truck to see what is going on with their family. 

“The car looks extra crowded today, there must be more workers coming for jobs. Perfect, more people to bully,” Marta thinks to herself. In the car Marta sees a girl, a bit younger than Miguel, which means she is a bit younger than Marta. The girl is wearing a yellow dress, she has long brown hair, and she has no shoes on.  She also sees a woman, probably the girl’s Mama, because she looks much older than the new girl, and she has the same, long, brown hair. Marta walked up to the truck and leaned back against the side of the truck.

“This is Marta,” Isabel says, introducing Marta to the new girl. “She lives at another camp where they pick cotton but it is owned by a different company. Her aunt and uncle live at our camp so she stays with them sometimes.”

“Where are you from?” Marta asks the new girl.

“Aguascalientes. El Rancho de las Rosas” said the new girl confidently, raising her head high.

“It was the ranch they lived on,” added Isabel. “Esperanza’s father owned it and thousands of acres of land. She had a lot of servants and beautiful dresses and she went to a private school, too. Miguel is my cousin and he and his parents worked for them.”

“So you’re a princess who’s come to be a peasant? Where’s all your finery?” said Marta, snickering, already starting to bully Esperanza. “What’s the matter, silver spoon stuck in your mouth?” Marta bullied.

“A fire destroyed everything. She and her mother have come to work, like the rest of us,” said Miguel, protecting Esperanza.

“Esperanza’s nice. Her papa died,” Isabel added.

“Well my father died, too.” Marta said with a snottiness in her voice. “Before he came to this country, he fought against people like her father who owned all the land. Then he got killed by people like her father.” Esperanza just looked at Marta and said nothing, she just walked away and started to cry. Marta laughed. Marta didn’t want to be friends with her, but maybe she did. But Marta could never; her father was the type of person who was a land owner, the same type of people who killed and fought against her father. And with that the conversation had ended, and Esperanza and Marta were lifetime enemies.

Mollie S. is a 6th grade writer.

The morning wakes.
The sun smiles.
I’m sure whatever happens,
will be worthwhile.

So please get up,
Just please arise.
Oh how I miss,
your pretty eyes.

I see very little meaning
without you,
and now I’m grieving.
I’m all alone.

A new day is here,
but why aren’t you?

I miss you more
than I’d miss the world.
But I’ll let you go,
as I should.