7A

The Battle of Oswald

Vicki C. 

The Arid298 just entered the war zone. The air was crisp and filled with clouds of gas. All the pressure is upon this one pilot, Captain Jasper, to win the final battle which determines victory. All other aircrafts hadve been shot down. On the icy cold battleground, laid scattered pieces of burnt metal and injured soldiers. Each soldier had their eyes on Arid298, hoping Captain Jasper would lead them to triumph. On the plane, Captain Jasper held firmly onto the yoke. He steered straight towards the opposing aircraft as it did the same. He waited just for the right angle and distance. As Captain Jasper’s hand reached for the launch button, the enemy fired a missile that broke off the right-wing of Arid298. The aircraft was tilted at an extreme angle to the left and was falling rapidly. The sound of it ripping through the air could be heard from the mountains. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Captain Jasper yelled. “Snow! I forgot the snow!”

Jasper carefully laid his new Arid298 he got for his birthday onto the couch before jumping up and running to his room. A few seconds later, he ran back down holding a stuffed teddy bear. 

“Sorry soldiers but I couldn’t find cotton balls for snow. We’ll just use his stuffing since it’s close enough. He’s old and dirty anyways,” Jasper said reaching into the slit between the bear’s leg and hip. He yanked out a big chunk of stuffing and spread it across the living room carpet. Oswald’s stomach was not as fluffy and cuddly as it used to be. His fur was stained with various liquids and stiff as if it was playing a game of freeze dance. Oswald was tossed aside to the end of the couch next to some toys before Captain Jasper resumed his infamous battle.

Oswald smiled contently as he watched Jasper finish his battle, victorious, of course. Nothing pleased him more than seeing Jasper happy. After his army succeeded, Jasper’s mom called him to lunch.

“How do you still manage to be so happy when Jasper treats you like that?” the SunnySally doll asked Oswald.

“What do you mean Sally? I don’t know what a better owner could be like,” he replied with his head tilted.

Patty rolled his eyes and remarked, “Maybe that’s because you don’t know what a good owner is actually like.”

Oswald scoffed, “How would you know? What are you anyway, a duck or an otter?”

“I’m a platypus! How many times do I have to tell you?” Patty exclaimed.  

Sally shook her head and answered, “We just want the best for you. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay. Maybe our owner could take care of you. She gives us tea every Sunday and bathes us when we get dusty.”

Oswald sighed and said, “Look, guys, your owner seems really good but Jasper loves me just as much. He needs me! Without me or my fur, he couldn’t have snow. You guys are just being negative.”

“Me, negative? I’m SunnySally, a big ball of sunshine! If I say something is bad, it’s bad,” Sally retaliated.

When Oswald began to speak, his words were cut off by Jasper’s mom. “Jasper! Clean up your toys!” she shouted.

Jasper hastily gathered his toys into his hands and ran up the stairs, leaving Oswald behind. Just as he reached the last step, his mother reminded him about Oswald, causing him to groan. Oswald’s heart shattered a little, but just not enough. That night, Oswald couldn’t go to sleep. He kept looking down at Jasper from his shelf and wondered if Jasper was who he thought he was. 

He turned to the robot next to him and asked, “Does Jasper clean you? How much does he play with you? Do you think he loves you?”

With his eyes still closed, the robot replied, “Yes, a lot, and of course. He sometimes has me sleep next to him. Go to sleep already.”

He never had me sleep next to him before, Oswald thought. 

Oswald looked down and noticed a conspicuous line of dust separating him and the robot. He blinked rapidly, keeping the tears from falling. It’s just the dust, Oswald thought. He looked down at Jasper and pushed himself off the shelf onto his bed. Jasper jolted up and noticed Oswald by his side. Each passing second was like each passing heartbeat from a patient on a hospital bed. 

Jasper threw Oswald across the room and exclaimed, “Ew, you got my bed all dirty with your ugly fur. Now I have to ask Mom to wash it.”

Oswald’s heart shattered a little more and this time, it was enough. He laid on the cold ground and thought, It hurts to know you don’t love me as I love you. But it hurts more to trust and defend someone who turns out to be exactly who I said they weren’t. You made me look so stupid.

Morning came and Oswald was still laying on the ground. He kept thinking back to the night before. Jasper’s disgusted face kept popping into his mind like a scare scene from a horror movie. Although Oswald’s heart was already shattered, it felt like someone’s still trying to rip them into smaller shards. It was as if the smaller Oswald felt, the bigger the other person felt. 

“Jasper, mom wants you to pack the toys you’re going to sell,” a little girl said with her head peeking into the room.

Jasper replied groggily, “Okay, okay. I’ll do it later.”

The girl glanced down and saw Oswald at her footsteps. She smiled and picked him up, “Can I have him now? I saved 10 dollars. You said you would give him to me for 10 dollars.”

Jasper reached for the 10 dollars and waved her off. Giggling, she skipped down the hall into her room. Oswald took a glimpse of the room and noticed SunnySally and Patty laid perfectly on the bed. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Mom to stitch your cut and she can buy stuffing too,” the girl said before running out, calling for her mom. Oswald felt the end of his lips being tugged a little. 

“Well, look who it is! Oswald!” Patty exclaimed.

“Didn’t we tell you? Noel is the best! She’ll get you up and ready in no time!” Sally said, hugging Oswald. 

It took awhile for Oswald to know what to say. He didn’t know how to feel at that moment. He did know, however, that Jasper couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

“When’s tea?” Oswald asked with a slight smile.

Laughing, Patty answered, “You’re in luck. It’s Sunday!”

Noel walked in with a smile like a sunset. It wasn’t like the noon sun where it hurt your eyes to look at. Her smile was relaxed and genuine. It was a smile you could watch all-day, fall asleep just to wake up and see it again. In her hands was a tray complemented by four teacups and a teapot. 

“My mom’s cooking lunch so I thought we could have tea for a snack!” she said setting it on the bed. 

She placed a cup in front of each stuffed animal and smiled again. Oswald felt his heart being slowly pieced together. Oswald experienced something truly beautiful that day. It was something he hasn’t felt in a while: happiness. 

My story is an allegory because it uses toys and children to represent a deeper meaning than what is initially presented. Jasper represents the abuser and the wicked actions those people do. Oswald represents the victim and how abuse can affect someone. When Jasper takes a chunk of Oswald’s stuffing, it symbolizes how the victim is stripped of their voice and happiness. The other stuffed animals and the line separating Oswald from the robot shows that you can notice abuse, but you have to look closely. When Jasper throws Oswald off his bed, it embodies the breaking point of when Oswald realizes how horribly Jasper is treating him. Noel symbolizes hope and love. After saving Oswald from Jasper, Oswald begins to heal steadily. My allegory projects that abuse and neglect can not be tolerated and you should find help if needed. There will always be someone who is willing to help and give you happiness.

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Ask Your Cat When In Doubt

  Nicole G.

Winston extended his front paws and leaped off of the windowsill. He landed on all fours with a soft thud, flicked his tail, meowed, and looked up at me. It was as if he were trying to impress me with his effortless landing. I never understood how cats, without a thought, jumped so gracefully, and didn’t think much of it. Winston rubbed his silky gray fur against my leg, and I scratched him behind the ear. “Sorry, bud, I know you want me to stay, but I’m off to school,” I told him and walked out, leaving my cat behind in the entryway.

I arrived at the school building two minutes before class started. The seconds hand on the grand white clock at the head of the school building was swallowing time faster than I could run. I  knew very well that the science teacher disliked tardy students; if I went to class now, everyone would stare at me and whisper. It would give them a way to notice me and laugh; I did not want to be noticed.  Mrs. Colleen would fix her icy glare on me and mark me late after giving me a lecture. I couldn’t bear it. The clock struck eight. Gah. Maybe I would’ve made it, but I’ll never know. I stared at the marbled stone walls of the building for a while, analyzing what had happened.  It didn’t seem like a big deal..or was it? I decided to call in sick even though I really wasn’t, because I couldn’t explain my real excuse. They’d call me foolish and definitely not believe me. I never missed school without consent before. I walked down the block and turned onto my street. I was nearing my house, red brick with purple tulips in the front garden and wind chimes hanging from the porch railing . The mailman was fitting a handful of letters into the mailbox. I nodded at him, mumbled a “thank you” and hoped he wouldn’t ask why I’m coming home 15 minutes after the start of school. He didn’t. I grabbed the letters from the mailbox and flipped through them as I entered the house . I recited the purpose of each letter in my head: Bill, another bill, an advertisement from the new hardware store in town, my name, my name. My name!? I dropped the letters onto the windowsill and examined the one that read, “To Kaiden Bryant. From Mountain View Junior High.” I rarely received mail, let alone from my school.. 

I opened it and scanned through it, my eyes darting across the page nervously. After the long introduction, the letter read- Our school community has been blossoming with hardworking and talented students this year.  However, there is a handful of students who have proven to be great helpers and volunteers. You have been accepted into our new “Students Help Students” support club. We think you’d be a great member.

The letter continued to explain that this new program would involve students meeting from other schools to share something with other  people their age. Topics would include self esteem, goals, and motivation. Why would they want me? How can I help others if I can’t fit in myself? Couldn’t I join the athletic club or something- it’s  much cooler and no one would make fun of me. “Hey, slow down, you got it all wrong,” a voice said. It was clear, mysterious, and extending the rs. “Wh-what did you say?” I answered squeakily. “I said that you got it all wrong. Look down and you’ll find me.” I scanned the floor, seeing nobody but Winston sprawled out on the living room rug. “Where? Who are you?” “I am the only other creature other than you here. You see me.” “Are you hiding? The only other creature is Winston, my British shorthair cat.” “So, what does that tell you?” the voice contoured. “Y-you are Winston?” I asked and laughed, realizing how foolish that sounds.“That is I. And you need help. I can help you, Kaiden.” “You’re not Winston. What do I look like? What brand of dry food do I feed you?” “You, Kaiden Bryant, have fawn colored hair, bushy eyebrows, vivid blue eyes and you buy me Bluestone Chicken Pebbles.” Winston, who was lying on the rug, stood up and slowly trotted over to me, and lay at my feet. “If you really are the one speaking to me, how can you help me?” “Simple. The cottage across the river at the park. There lives an old woman, and she would greatly appreciate it if you brought her some flowers.” “That’s it? How will it help?” “Trust me,” Winston reassured me, “just do this easy task.” Thus, I set off to fulfill an order commanded by my cat. It definitely sounded silly, but I was home and had nothing better to do; if this was a dream, I would  wake up soon. The park was blooming with thousands of spring flowers in all colors and sizes. Which ones would the inhabitant of the cottage like? Nobody ever goes there. They say the cottage is old and haunted. Plus, why would I embarrass myself by going there in front of everyone at the park?  I crossed the wooden bridge. A whisper echoed behind me, somewhere at my feet.

I looked behind me, at my dark shadow. It sounded like it was the one haunting me; I could almost sense it grinning at me and giggling. The shadow seemed to whisper too. My feet felt as if they were sinking into the ground. I looked at my sneakers, but they were solidly standing on the grass. The door creaked, but nobody stepped outside. I can’t believe Winston wanted me to give a bouquet of flowers to a witch who brings no good. What if she ate me? I backed away and turned to head home, yet nothing but a vast green plain with daisies stretching out for miles stood before me. The only living creatures now roaming around were… cats. Gray and orange and every other breed of felines. My heart began to race. Winston may be here too. “Winston! Help me!” I yelled into the distance. Winston trotted over to me.“What is going on? This is not real. Did I faint? How do I get out of here?” I told him. He answered me completely unamused and calm, “I told you to bring the woman flowers, did I not?” “Only frightening things are happening. Why are all these cats here? Are they your friends?” “Not really, to be honest. They say I don’t fit in or something. My coat isn’t shiny enough and my tail is too short and bushy.” “Oh, sorry, buddy. I can help you show them how skilled and great you really are.” Winston laughed in his mysterious way and said, “No thank you, it doesn’t bother me. I think my tail and fur are unique. I’m also a decent jumper. They can think whatever they want; they’ll realize everything eventually.”

I took a deep breath. He was right. I looked back at the cats, whose eyes were fixed on Winston and me. I squinted at them. Something flashed before me, and suddenly, the creatures on the other side of the river weren’t cats. They were boys and girls, and they were still staring at me. Winston was no longer at my side. What is happening with me today? I walked over to a patch of daisies and picked a few. Ignoring every whisper and shudder behind me, I knocked at the door. The door opened, and a woman with gray hair and a dress stepped out. She didn’t look the least bit like a witch. “I-I,” I stuttered, “picked some flowers for you.” I handed them to her and she smiled. “Thank you, dear, no one usually stops by my cottage.” I opened my mouth to speak, but the woman disappeared. 

I stared at the ceiling of my room. My room? I propped myself up on one elbow. I was in my bed, with Winston curled up beside me. “Hey, buddy, what happened? Why are we back here?” I asked him, puzzled. Winston cocked his head to the side, meowed, and went on back to sleep. Well that was a strange dream. I felt… different. As if a  wave of confidence rushed over me,  but why?  I felt an itch on my shoulder, and I brushed a daisy petal off my sleeve. 

Kaiden symbolizes lacking confidence in yourself because of the fear of not being accepted. He stops himself from doing beneficial things because he’s afraid others won’t approve of him. Winston, however, is focused on his own worth and what he thinks of himself. The other cats/people are just followers.  The theme of the allegory is to do what you think is right, no matter what anyone says.

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awaiting submission ek

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The Spirit of the Hive

Sophie L.

From the time we began hollowing out the perfect tree for our new hive of only five bees we had no idea the home we had been shaping would intrigue so many. With over a thousand bees in only a couple of weeks our hive was no longer a little stump, but a beautiful bushel of honey comb. 

The day a bee set her eyes on our hive and claimed the position of queen bee we were ecstatic. Our hive was officially complete! The first couple of days were smooth as the queen was adjusting to her new home. When she finally emerged to begin her work we stood excitedly. She walked through the corridors with one finger tracing the walls. She scooped up a spoon of honey and ate it. Our mood soured, however she began complaining, yelling at the worker bees. You aren’t making enough honey, she would say, or this needs to go over there! She spent hours grooming her stripes, avoiding her obvious cluelessness about her responsibilities. Her glistening wings had priority. 

The chambers of honey were running low, and we needed more pollen.  I headed to the royal chambers to speak with her. I straightened my antennae as I paced outside her door, rehearsing what I would say to her.

 “Excuse me, your highness,” I stuttered nervously, slowly entering the room.

“What must you waste my time on today?” She placed her crown on top of her head, displaying her authority. 

“Sorry to disturb you, but we must send more pollen collectors out and we need your permission to fly south this year.”

“Why fly south? All the sensational pollen is said to be east.”

“Yes miss, but it is an extra long journey, one the traveller bees may not survive.”

“Well, I only want the finest honey this year, so your little crew will fly east and bring me back the best pollen in the land.”

“But…”

“Shoo” she said, waving me out of the room. With no choice, I left with my head hung low; I feared the worst. 

We travelled for days searching for the flower gardens. Our trail of traveling bees stretched miles long and we brought as much food as we could. The sun drifted below the waterline and out of sight, soon replaced by the dim glow of the moon. We stopped for a few hours to rest our heads on small beds of leaves to recharge each morning. After the last scraps of food couldn’t be salvaged we were forced to turn back. Our wings were heavy and smothered in dirt. We were exhausted. Our throats were dry and our bellies growled. When we emerged through the wilderness at last, returning to our hive, we were scolded by the queen for not bringing back any pollen. With all the traveler bees exhausted, the honey makers had to begin cranking out buckets of honey as fast as they could with even less pollen than usual. The once sweet liquid churning in the machines down in the workshop slowly thickened into a congealed sludge-like liquid. The honey’s beautiful golden color took on a brown hue. 

Days passed and Queen Bee still hadn’t decided what to do about the honey and lack of workers. Once again I tried to go down there and talk to her, but she refused to see me. Her inexperience was shining through, but she wore her pride like a mask, blocking out others’ advice. 

I was in my room recovering from the traumatizing journey that we had endured when I heard shrieks from above me. My curiosity pulled me out of my plush bed with the last bit of energy I could muster. As I entered the room I saw a mother bee screaming at our queen, anger pouring out of her. “What have you done!” she yelled. Our baby bees are lost in the world outside, scared and alone. They were not ready for the dangers beyond this hive.” She pointed her finger close enough to touch the queen's nose. This mother bees eyes bugged out of her head; she looked ready to explode. Then she joined the flood of hundreds of parent bees who were streaming out the door, ready to search far and wide for their babies. Everybody was crowded in the center square shocked. Without any baby bees the hive would be gone in a few years. Who would run the hive next? The queen had sent out the most important and inexperienced members of our hive. No one said a word. No bee had  dared to stand up to the queen, but we could feel the anger reverberating around the room. The queen noticed; her embarrassment showed in her cherry red cheeks.

We creeped back to our rooms, trying to understand what had happened. I went to the workshop to check on the remaining honey makers who had continued working tirelessly. The churners were barely moving as the honey became thicker. It was muddy and chunky. I headed back to the sleeping chambers, but my thoughts were swirling in my head. I was fuming! She should have just listened to me! She was trying to be helpful, but it’s only her second week here. At this rate our hive will be a pile of dust and history by tomorrow. I rolled back and forth on my bed with thoughts too loud to ignore. Eventually sleep finally grasped me and my eyes slid shut.

It was early the next morning when upstairs murmurs awoke me. Light was beginning to peek through cracks in the wall’s hexagonal panels. I slipped on a robe and headed upstairs. A bunch of blurry, black and yellow shadows passed before me.

 Rubbing my eyes I saw heaps of little bees covered in white gunk, shivering. Their tufts of yellow and black fur were knotted, some were shaking, others huddled together. I heard someone whisper, “Caught in a spider web out back. We saved as many as we could but some were just too deep. Lost a couple of parents too.” All of a sudden, a bee ran into me from behind. 

“Sir, the honey is drying out. In just hours it will all be unusable,” he cried. My inhibitions fell away. Without fear of overstepping my boundaries, I marched to the queen’s chamber, kicked down the door and barged in! I began speaking instantly. 

“This has to stop! You need to let us help run this hive or it will keep falling apart. We have been doing this for much longer than you. You must trust us.” I looked up and saw her sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her face. 

“I’m sorry! I want to be a good queen, but I don’t know how to fix this! This responsibility is so new and I am screwing everything up.” I just sat and listened. Grasping her in a hug, I bent over and lifted her off the ground. I explained what had to be done and she just nodded, exhausted and remorseful. 

As time went on and our community joined together, we pieced our home back together and hope began to seep back into the air. Yes, our hands were bruised and sore by the end of the day from bolting screws back into the new honey machines and loading buckets of fresh pollen to the workshop. Our minds were just as exhausted from the long meetings about establishing new governments within our society to balance out the work for the queen. We didn’t mind. Each day made us stronger and within six months our hive was better than ever. Although it was hard for the queen to give up so much control at first, she knew we were helping. She even started coming to me for advice. While this may have all been avoidable, it showed us how much stronger we are together, hand in hand, fingers interlaced. For we are holding this hive up and the weight is unbearable for just one bee.

In this allegory there is a collection of bees who are running a new hive in unison when a queen bee shows up. She puts herself in charge of the hive without realizing she is inexperienced and can’t complete all of the tasks by herself. She represents people with power. Slowly the hive begins to fall apart as she instructs bees incorrectly. These bees represent the working class. The queen can’t swallow her pride and ask for help causing the hive’s near collapse. As a result, the honey begins to dry out and turns a murky brown. After a well respected member of the hive stands up to the queen, she realizes that she should have just asked for help all along. They work with the community to restore their home together. The theme of this allegory is those in power should seek the advice of experienced others and it’s ok to ask for help.

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The Changing World

Guga M.

Life in Antarctica used to be rather quiet, as the animals went on with their days. Penguins, polar bears and all the like would head out from their small dens to hunt for the lower animals on the food chain, simply repeating their cycle everyday. Of course, times tend to change, and so does the world. Penguins, some of the more smarter thinkers, started to tinker with technology - building themselves contraptions to trap and catch fish with ease. Over the span of years, the continent had grown a lot more technologically advanced, being sent into its own industrial revolution. Factories became a common sight, with fish, krill and all the like being cranked out every second to feed a hungry penguin or seal. As tens of years had passed on, some had grown suspicious. Parts of the big sheets of ice many animals had called home begun to be chipped off with no real explanation. Smoke filled the skies often - turning the site of a once beautiful town into one that looked foggy and depressing. The food that there was once plenty of slowly started to disappear. Around this time is when a rather clever penguin, known as Rico, begins to delve into the rising threat that few had noticed. Rico waddled out of his igloo, clutching a briefcase. He entered onto 3rd Avenue, glancing around the street. Other penguins sped down in their fittingly named “Penguin-movers”. As he moved along the road to get to work, he noticed all the people flooding by - trying to get to work just as he was. The factories towered over Rico, and one by one he started watching the penguins and polar bears flood into them. Smoke rose above, painting the sky grey. Some time later, Rico had entered his office, looking at his co-workers. He nodded at Ty, the polar bear who sat at the front desk, and waddled past. As he made it to his desk, he was stopped by his friend and fellow Penguin, Jim.

“Hey Rico, have you been hearing the news?” asked Jim.

“Not really, what’s been going on?” He responded, rather intrigued. It was new for Jim to randomly start a conversation with such a line.

“You might think I’m crazy, but 13th Street is disappearing.”

Rico stared at Jim in confusion and blurted out “What?” 13th Street had been known as the fishing hub of the city, right by the water.

“The scientists have been saying that the place is melting away, and the coasts rising up.” 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll uh, get back to you on that one Jim.” Rico replied, still in confusion, as he waddled to his desk. As he went on with his job, looking through spreadsheets and doing the job of any other generic office worker, he wondered about what Jim had been saying. Was it really true? The best way to know was to see it himself, and that's what he planned to do.

As Rico exited his workplace a few hours after at eight, he stopped by and consulted the help of Jim.

“Hey Jim, do you think you could help me out in checking out what happened on 13th? I’ll be honest, I didn’t really believe you.”

Jim, slightly annoyed at his friend not believing him, replied. “Sure.” 

And thus, the two made it down the streets tobogganing, till they reached the site of 13th Street. The street had had many industrial buildings - as it was home to the town’s main source of income, fishing.  

“Unbelievable.” Rico said, looking at the damage. Large chunks of factories had melted away - ice and snow crashing onto the street below. Looking past across the street, it had seemed the shoreline had raised for sure. Police cars were still on scene, various officers walking around. Rescue teams were still here as well - trying to find people through the rubble. Yet without waiting for his friend's response, Rico stumbled past and into one of the crumbled factories. 

“Are you sure that’s safe?!” called Jim, but Rico ignored him. The smokestack that towered over the factory had come crashing down into the building. Rico finally stepped back, nodding.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jim, I have something to do.”

And he waddled off up the streets. Yet when he had made it back home it was clear things had turned for the worse in his neighborhood. His, another industrial neighborhood, full of factories, fell victim to the same mysterious event on 13th Street. Sirens blasted on the Penguin-movers as the factories had turned into piles of rubble, bringing down the homes of innocent people with it too. Rico’s jaw hung wide open as he saw the police dig into the ruins. Instead of heading home, he rushed to his office, yet it was too late. It seemed shortly after he had left his office building, it fell victim to the same mysterious event, as it was destroyed by the rubble of another collapsing factory.

With his job now gone, Rico slumped back into his igloo on 3rd Avenue. He turned on his computer, staring at the background for a few minutes. Had his neighbors, his boss, and his job all fell victim to whatever was bringing his town down? He started to remember everything - smoke pouring out the smokestacks, the sky being painted grey. It hadn’t been like this when Rico was young, or had he just forgotten? The skies were always clear - people had hunted in the old ways, we never had to worry about things melting in the coldest place on Earth. He had remembered seeing things on the news, on fish and krill slowly becoming less abundant. It all became clear to him. Whenever he needed some water, he’d carve out a block of ice and heat it up. It became clear as to why the water was rising, and why everything had been heating up and melting. It was the result of their own actions. Now Rico had sparked up a plan, to make us realize what they  were doing.

Rico woke up the next day determined, charging out of bed and leaving to go to the Scientific Laboratory. Still clutching a briefcase, he tobogganed past the rubble till he eventually reached the grand building. Entering the building and walking to the front desk, he asked one simple question to the female penguin who sat in front of him.

“Is there anyone I can speak to on the events on 13th Street and 3rd Avenue?”

The lady shook her head, replying. “I’m afraid you’ll have to make an appointment for that.”

Rico, staring at the woman in annoyance, walked on without another word. 

“I’ll get arrested if I have to.” He said as he walked by.

He saw the woman at the front desk raise a phone - and he quickly began to scan the rooms of the building, hoping to find some kind of high official. Mumbling the names of the rooms to himself, he stopped on one. 

“Aha. Chief director.” He hadn’t bothered to read the full name, but had opened the door anyway. The penguin who sat in his office behind the desk in a suit jumped back startled.

“Who are you?” The man quickly blurted out.

Rico had moved on anyway, and set the briefcase down on the man's desk.

“Everything you need to know is in there, just don’t let more of this hap-”

Rico had been suddenly cut off as he heard police call out from behind.

“FREEZE! RAISE YOUR HANDS AND SLOWLY TURN AROUND FACING US!”

Complying with the police, Rico only said one sentence as they detained him.

“I just had to stop more of this from happening again.” To the surprise of police and the man behind the desk, Rico’s intentions were not at all dangerous. Rico had been sitting in the police station for hours, believing that he was receiving some form of criminal punishment for what he had done. But what he hadn’t known was that word had just gotten out about what he had actually done. The police were left in awe as they realized the information in the briefcase had the ability to put an end to a new major problem. Within minutes word had gotten to the press, and Rico was a hero within a single day. As Rico was freed, he was praised by people all over. And as time went on, the technology seemed to have been phased out, with more green methods taking place instead. In the end, the world had been saved from a catastrophic problem - all by one penguin.

This story is based upon our own constantly changing world. In modern times, our technological advances have led to our world changing in many ways - with the negatives slowly taking over. This allegorical story shows what will happen to the place we call home if we persist with our actions.

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A Great Civilization

Muhib M.

Many generations ago, the world was divided into small villages. There were no countries, as in, countries that were united. Empires did exist, but inside them were thousands of villages with their own government. People worked to survive, trying to produce enough food to do so. Some could recall the time everyone had to hunt and gather to survive. Some people produced extra food allowing for the formation of small farming villages. One of these villages was a village located in the region of Indochina. Located between the Indian subcontinent and the large landmass you may know as China, this region was quite advanced but still held close to the culture of the village. The elders in the village were the rulers, and each village had its own religion, although the religions in villages in the same region were quite similar, with the same gods, basic beliefs, and ethics. 

The village was called Prek. Prek was located on a river and along with farming, it also heavily relied on fishing for its economy. Like other villages, it had a small temple where the villagers could pray to their gods. The village was not isolated; like all villages, traders would occasionally visit, sometimes speaking the same language, or speaking completely different languages. Children began to work from the age of six. Most of the villagers were farmers, but there were also a significant minority of fishermen, and some craftsmen, smiths, and traders. The people in Prek were extremely devout, and banished heretics, and non-believers. There were great levels of equality among both the male and female genders, and were treated equally. High levels of respect were reserved for elders, with some centenarians. The villagers were extremely healthy and usually lived to 70 or 75. However, like all villages of the time, viruses like smallpox, influenza, tuberculosis, and more, did exist, and even the most healthy died easily to such a foe. There was a low chance that a child would survive to adulthood.

The religion of Prek was a form of polytheism. The religion had multiple gods, some being good, others being bad. Conflict happened occasionally, and war was extremely rare. War hadn’t happened in the village for several centuries. Drinking was not prevalent, and was left for celebrations, instead of a daily occurance. Prek was a society extremely resistant to change; if there was some new change, the elders would have to decide if the change was heresy, or a product of imagination. As you may expect, the elders, not knowing what could come out of it, would ban it almost nine out of ten times. 

The village of Prek knew very little about the outside world. They knew there were villages outside their own; they traded with them and had seen maps of their surrounding area, but nothing past that. Some traders came from lands very far, from the lands of the steppe, the great rice fields of East Asia, and several islands far away. They called the northern lands Preah, the southern lands Cham, the eastern lands Kratie, and the western lands Sap. 

However, the way of life in Prek would change forever with some events. In Preah, there had been some great conflicts between seven grand dutchies after the collapse of a small kingdom. One of these states eventually came to dominate all the others, unifying them. The duke upgraded his title to emperor, and ruled with terror comparable to Robespierre. However, as all tyrants do, he fell and a new empire took its place. This empire brought new ideas and inventions with some reaching the far away lands of Sap. They also expanded far past their original borders, with their borders reaching not very far from Prek and the nearby villages. Prek now felt threatened by the new ideas and inventions.

That is where this story starts. Prek was a conservative and religious society that only adapted to new ideas when the village elders felt it wouldn’t threaten their polytheistic religion. Otherwise, it was banished or destroyed, with the creator suffering a similar fate. Technically, the line of succession for the leadership was by seniority in their territory, but there was one family that always held the title of oldest in the village. This family was the Thom family. The Thom family was among the healthiest and longest lived families with the youngest death happening at the age of 80. They were also very conservative and religious, promising to defend their religion to their death. 

The leader of this family was Thom Ren. Thom Ren was approaching the age of 100, and was leader of the village, and Deputy of Pol, who was an extremely venerated religious figure, killed as a martyr. Ren banned Preahese technology, literature, and their religion, which had no god at all. Those found to be doing so would be proclaimed as heretics and burnt at the stake. Ren banned entering or leaving the village to prevent these ideas from coming in. Ren would have none of this heresy.

Prek broke off contacts with the outside world. Ren transformed his society from one based on trade to one based on isolation. Nearby villages enacted similar policies. People traded but only between the villages, not the outside world. Ren kept his society an agrarian one. People worked in the rice fields practically all day. Traders could only trade in a small trading post several miles from the village itself. There were some Preahese who had settled the area to escape the tyrant in their homeland. Ren gave them a choice: join the religion, or get executed. Only 100 decided to convert, the rest were put on a small ship and then the ship was lit on fire. None survived. Soon, Preahese culture was eliminated from Prek and the surrounding villages.

Centuries went by and this system continued. People were born and worked for the majority of their lives. Villagers had to practice their religion. All had to go to the village temple once a week to pray. People believed that life depended on how the gods felt. SIlk, compasses, shipbuilding, tea leaves, porcelain and more were all banned. Those who did such activities or were in possession of such goods were executed. Most progress in society was considered heresy. Inoculation and variolation (today’s vaccination) was prohibited, as the Thom family felt it removed the natural order of life and death. Silk was prohibited due to its elaborateness. Prek was against innovation and therefore, mandated isolation from the outside world. People resisted, but for the most part, these resistance attempts were brutally suppressed. It just was not worth resisting this authority.

Finally, a great power from the north invaded Preah, and took it completely over within eight years. They were brutal and wished to expand their empire further. They expanded within viewing distance of the villages around Prek. These invaders brought significant progress to these previously backwards regions. The emperor of Preah wanted to end the villages around Prek. Isolation and anti-innovation had brought the villagers to insanity. They were tired of being poor and subjugated. They wanted riches, the riches each subject of Preah got for simply existing. They revolted against Prek while Preah invaded the villages. Before the Preahese would come and take over the villages, the leaders in some villages decided the night before the planned revolt, the village would be lit on fire at night while all were sleeping and put a strict curfew. The leaders would then commit suicide to prevent the Preahese from capturing them and submiting themselves and their villages to the Preahese way of life. They carried that out and only a few survivors were found in critical condition in the villages lit on fire. In the other villages, the leaders were killed when the villages were liberated by the Preahese. 

Under the new leadership of Preah, the survivors were slowly assimilated into the Preahese way of life, while maintaining a few things. The people of Prek became much wealthier compared to before, but still not on the level they imagined. The old records of Prek were ordered to be destroyed by the Emperor of Preah, with most of them being destroyed. Some survive to today. Today, all that is left of the great power of Prek is a small fishing village with only about 15 inhabitants. Preah was completely shocked, and changed by the cost of fighting Prek. The Preahese were left bankrupt but forgot the lesson of Prek. The people of Sap easily took it over within a few centuries. 

This allegory symbolizes several societies that have several things in common. First of all, they are conservative societies that isolate themselves from the rest of the world. They ban travel in or out. Next, they ban cultural diffusion, and call it heresy. They also have some form of religion. Their reasoning for isolation is to protect the culture from heresy.

*****************

Leader of the Lake

Olivia T.

“Rise and shine!” hollered Augustus, the swan, in his majestic, smooth voice.

The other animals quickly awakened, rubbed the sleep from their eyes, and swam or flew over to where Augustus was, ready to listen.  The last to join the group was Colin, the small frog with an evergreen skin color. However, just as Augustus was about to begin, he diverted his glance towards Colin. 

“Move,” the swan ordered Harriet, the cardinal.

She backed up immediately as a cool breeze made the whole group shiver. Augustus ruffled his feathers like a human crossing their arms. 

“What are you doing on our side of the lake, I’ve told you too many times you can’t come here. You think you’re going to get sympathy from us if you hide in your little corner, but you’re not. Now go,” Augustus said, annoyed. 

He whipped around, splashing water into Colin’s tiny face. Currently facing the others, he commanded,

“What are you still looking at him for? He is ugly and unimportant!”

Embarrassed, the animals scrambled for an excuse. Coming up with nothing, they merely clapped for Augustus. Colin slowly backed away.

“Now, where was I?” Augustus asked the other animals. 

Loretta, the otter, answered, “You were about to perform the pledge, Master.” 

“Ah, thank you,” he replied. 

Loretta swelled with pride in how Augustus responded. The pledge was then administered, each animal swearing to abide by Augustus’ terms, for he was their beautiful and well-deserved leader. No one could remember how Augustus came to take on this status, but his beauty and good management skills confirmed it enough for the animals to believe. They knew that waking up too late was bad, because Augustus said so. They knew that Colin must be a bad influence, because Augustus said so. However, the animals secretly felt a burning sympathy for the innocent frog. 

More monotonous days passed by, and winter soon hit. As the underwater animals prepared for hibernation, Augustus said his goodbyes, leaving with Harriet and a few other birds for winter migration. Colin was getting ready as well, and setting up his den. He peered at his creation through his glossy eyes, satisfied, but came to the surface once more. Should he bother wishing the others a good hibernation? Now that Augustus was gone, he’d have less to worry about… 

While he was considering his options, however, something scooped him up, and dragged him out of the lake. 

Winter eventually ceased, and Augustus returned. The usual spring overjoy occurred, and the animals went multiple laps around the lake each. Later that evening, Loretta was circling the waters with Augustus on her back when she noticed Colin’s empty corner. She stopped swimming abruptly, and Augustus nearly toppled over into the lake. 

Alarmed, he shouted, 

“What on earth did you stop for? Continue!” 

Loretta was still curious, but the guilt of failing her master overrode that fascination. She could never tell Augustus why she stopped; the risk of sharing her worry for Colin’s being was outrageous. Thoughts spun through her head: Why didn’t he come up after hibernation? Did a fish find him? Could he have drowned? Maybe he ran away, how horrid of us! Nevertheless, she merely kept swimming, the weight of Augustus seeming 10 times heavier now. 

A year later, Colin came back, but with company. Many small froglets entered the lake with him, and the others stared in awe, but Augustus did not let that faze the crowd; he bolted in front of their view of Colin and yelled, 

“It’s a trap, do not step anywhere near that common, pet shop frog!”

Obediently, everyone turned back around, but in their minds, they wanted to sneak over and talk to Colin for once. So at midnight, Loretta decided to wake all of the animals to go visit. Few opposed, but eventually, everyone was convinced. The group quietly swam under the moonlight and awoke Colin. As the frog’s eyes slowly opened, the presence of everyone startled him immensely. 

“Hello,” Loretta said. 

“Uh, hi. What are you doing here?” Colin asked, backing up.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t here to harm. We actually came to see what happened to you for all this time,” Loretta said quickly.  

Colin looked surprised. 

“Is this a trick?” he inquired.

“No, we promise it’s not,” Harriet answered, then asked, “So where have you been?” 

Colin laughed softly. “I was at a laboratory being mated and bred,” he replied. “Apparently, I’m one of the last of my species.” 

The others gasped. 

“So Augustus was wrong about you,” mumbled Harriet. 

“Yes, he was; I am not just a pet shop frog. I will tell you though, that I have never done anything to harm Augustus; he has no reason to despise me.” Colin started. “Despite his outer beauty, his heart is rotten. Notice how he  expects praise, but never compliments anyone else. I’m glad I can finally alert you.” 

After a few minutes, a tortoise cleared his throat. 

“We better be going soon, Augustus may become suspicious. Shall we return tomorrow night?” he asked. 

“Sure,” Colin replied with a smile. “Thanks.” 

The animals said goodbye and turned to head back, but suddenly, their warm hearts dropped faster than the speed of light. They stared awkwardly at Augustus, who sat tall on the water. 

“We have a slight problem here,” declared the swan. 

The rising sun gave Augustus’ clean feathers a mystic golden glow. 

“I heard everything,” he smirked. “ You all shall pay for your scheme here tonight. I can’t even believe-” 

Loretta interrupted him. 

“We’re done with your antics, Augustus,” she announced. 

“Whatever do you mean, how can this frog change your whole life in an instant? He’s worthless; he sells for 10 cents just like those minnows. You cannot disobey me, and I will never see you near this freak again. Understood?” 

Augustus glared at everyone. His rage hung in the silence for a good 30 seconds before he decided their response. 

“Good. Now let’s go.” 

Nobody moved. 

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Augustus sputtered. 

“No," Loretta answered, speaking for everyone. “You don’t deserve our affection. You do nothing for us. And as for Colin…” The otter turned to look at the small frog, who had sunk into the background at the sight of Augustus. “He may have the worst physical features of anyone here, but who cares? He has a good heart. Although he may be different, he’s a much better friend than you could ever be, Augustus.” 

The others nodded unanimously. Augustus lowered his head. His eyes narrowed, then relaxed. 

“I see. However, I-” 

Loretta stopped him again. “Don’t say anything. Just leave, and don’t come back unless you’re willing to apologize.” 

More silence. 

“Fine.”

Augustus took one last look at everyone, considering, before turning around, wading out of the lake, and disappearing into the vast horizon. Once he was surely gone, the celebration began. The birds chirped, the marine animals splashed, and the underwater creatures swam in excited circles. They had done it. They had banished the swan who had given them endless agony for years. It was now morning; a new day, and all the animals did not know what to do now that there was no pledge to administer. They decided to fill this gap by making Colin their new leader, but he humbly refused. 

“No no, I will not accept this position,” he shook his head. “You guys never needed a leader. We are free animals.” 

They looked up, realizing this very true fact. 

“Also, good job everyone. You expelled that horrible mess of a leader. You did it.” 

The others beamed. 

“Thank you, Colin. You helped us see how horrible Augustus really was, and how guilty we are for disregarding you all this time. We simply didn’t know.” 

“It is quite alright,” Colin reassured them. Then, he threw up his hands and declared, “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s celebrate some more! We’re free!” 

“We’re free!” the others yelled together, and the group then proceeded to swim out in the lake. The same lake they had always lived in, but somehow, it felt different. A good kind of different; less like servant quarters, more like home. 

My allegory represents a school-like bullying scene. The swan, Augustus, represents the bully; Colin, the frog, represents the one being bullied, the outcast. The otter, Loretta, is the voice of reason; she is the one who ultimately stood up for Colin. Finally, all of the minor animals symbolize the people watching the “drama”; the followers. There are 2 themes in my allegory; one being that inner beauty is always a more important trait than outer beauty; the other saying how being different is not a bad thing, it makes you special. However, like I mentioned before, they all lead back to the prospect of how nothing beneficial ever comes out of bullying. Augustus’ unreasonable hatred towards Colin and bad heart left no one happy; therefore, the animals banished him.

*****************

UTOPIA

Vivian W.

I walked right ahead into the entrance of my new school. The air around me was unfamiliar. I quickly made my way towards the room with the banner labeled “Office” above it. 

“Um, excuse me? I am new here,” my voice spoke softly to the lady behind the counter.

“Hello sweetheart, what is your name?” she asked.

“Blair Serenity,” I responded.

The lady began typing on her keyboard and printed out a few sheets of paper along with a schedule.

“Take this home for your parents to get signed,” she started. “A student from your homeroom will be down here shortly to show you around the school.” 

A girl with long brunette hair barged through the door. She was dressed in a red tank top with gray sweatpants. She wore an black sweater. Her face was as still as a statue. Her expression scares me; it gives me a mean, heartless aura. I could tell she’s definitely a popular girl at the school.

“Wonderful, happy touring!” The lady smiled, motioning her hands in a ‘shoo’ way. I hesitantly followed the anonymous girl. 

There was an excruciating moment of silence. I awkwardly nodded my head whenever she pointed at something. 

“Now this is homeroom, our last stop before first period,” she said. She pointed to the teacher through the glass window. “That’s Mr. Miracle, he’s our homeroom teacher and also the science teacher.”

She paused and looked at the clock hanging above the door. She continued to tell me the last bit of information I needed to know.

“Also, if you have any questions, go ask the teachers and don’t search for me during lunch.”

“Okay, I wasn’t going to,” I said, offended.

The first bell had rang shortly after. I stared down onto the schedule in my hands. 

“Science,” I murmured, before twisting the door knob open.

I made my way towards a random seat in the back corner. I shuffled through my backpack, searching for a notebook and a pencil.

The last bell rang before lunch. Everyone rushed excitedly to the cafeteria. I made sure to walk slowly towards the crowded room. I decided to sit next to the two girls I befriended in first period.

“Hi Blair!” they shouted, gesturing to me to sit with them. 

I smiled as I ran to their table.

I took my packed lunch out as Haley began a conversation, “How’s your first day so far?”

I replied, “Kind of boring. I didn’t really talk to many people during my classes.”

I spotted the tour guide girl with her group of friends at the table in the back. “Oh yeah, do you guys know that girl over there?” I started, pointing at the girl I met earlier and her friends.

“That’s Ainsley and her group of Barbies, why?” Haley responded, chewing on her sandwich.

“Ainsley was the one who was assigned to show me around school. She seemed pretty mean the first time I saw her,” I answered. “Wait, why do you call them Barbies. They literally dress in dark, depressing clothing.”

“Her group of friends feel the need to be perfect or that’s what others say. People say they’re really annoying and rude, but I guess they can be nice,” Moriah shrugged.

“Oh I see, but I bet those are just rumors” I said.

It was a few minutes before sixth period. Time rolls by fast when you're actually having fun.

“Anyways, I have math,” I informed Moriah and Haley.

“Bummer, we both have English,” Moriah said.

I waved ‘bye’ to them, sarcastically pouting.

“Class, I know you guys just had lunch, but relax,” Ms. Jamie said before starting the lesson. 

It has been halfway through the class and it has already attracted many confused looks. I sat back and observed as I learned this already in my previous school.

“Ugh, this is so annoying,” muttered Ainsley.

I looked across my table to see her stuck on the second question.

“You want me to help you?” I asked as I already finished the classwork.

“No, I’m good. I’m not trying to get help from someone with two first names,” she replied restlessly. 

“Ouch, whatever then ,” I said. I wasn’t trying to cause any problems with a girl I just met. But I noticed she was looking around for help.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” I questioned one more time.

She sighed. She paused before continuing, “I guess you can help me.”

I used the first question as an example to show the many ways to solve the problem.

“Here, you can do the next one,” I pointed at question number two.

“Thanks, I guess,” she replied.

I nodded as I focused back on my worksheet.

“Students, quiet down! Tomorrow we are starting a new unit, which means a new project. I would like to announce that you are going to be picking your own partners, but we are going to start presenting at the end of next week. Remember, no more than 3 people a group,” Ms. Jamie announces.

The whole class groans and slides back in their seats,

“Or I could pick your partners instead,” she projected.

“Hey, you wanna be my partner?” Ainsley asked.

I said, astonished, “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Well you are kind of good at math, so yeah,” she said. “Whatever, we could start at my house after the first lesson.”

“How was school, Blair?” Mom had asked, cooking up dinner.

I sat next to my sister who was sitting at the table doing homework. Dad was on the sofa, watching TV. 

“Surprisingly good,” I started. “I made quite a few friends.”

I turned my face completely towards Mom, “Mom, I have a project that I need to work on, so can I head to a friend’s house to work on it tomorrow?”

“Of course, what’s the project on?” Mom asked.

“We’re just starting a fresh unit in math,” I said. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mom yelled as I was finishing helping my sister with her homework.

“Hi,” I waved to Ainsley. I made my way to a seat in homeroom. “I asked my mom already about the project!”

“Coolios, I’ll see you in math class,” she said as the first bell rang.

It wasn’t long until math. I sat in the same seat as yesterday and was joined by Ainsley. Ms. Jamie quickly began the lesson, making sure to slowly go over every detail. 

“Psst,” Ainsley whispered as she threw a crumpled piece of paper, aiming at my head. She let out a snort as it hit me in the face. 

Ms. Jamie turned around, “What are you doing, Ainsley?”

“My bad,” she said as Ms. Jamie sighed.

The note read: “We can go to my house right after school ends. Also my mom is still going to be at work and my dad has a barbeque party with his co-workers tonight.

I slowly turned back and gave her an ‘ok’ signal. She returned one back which made me smile.

School had ended and we were on our way to Ainsley’s house.

“I have to text my mom that I’m going to your house right now,” I told her.

I entered her bedroom and the first thing that came to my mind was yellow. Not that Ainsley’s room was covered in yellow, but she had yellow in a little bit of everything.

“Woah,” I murmured.

“Haha, not used to seeing this side of me?” she said.

“Ok, let’s start on the header first,” I suggested.

“Wait, how about you do all the decoration, since you have the best handwriting and I’ll do all the research. We can occasionally switch,” she revised.

“Ok, good idea,” I responded.

We worked on our roles for a good two hours without talking. It suddenly began raining heavily.

“Hey, let's take a break!” Ainsley abruptly said. 

She gasped, “Lets go dance in the rain!”

“Bro, that sounds so cool!” I said. I don’t know what dancing in the rain exactly is, but that also might be the coolest thing I have heard all week.

“Lets go!” I responded.

Ainsley and I ran from her room through the living room and out to the rain. I decided to turn on some music to match the vibe. No matter who you are, whether you’re the most controversial person in the world or the most unproblematic person on the entire planet, you need to dance in the rain at least once in life. This may or can be the only thing we bond over, which are complications. This is the night where you let every part of yourself go and just have fun. And that’s what we did, Ainsley and I danced until we couldn’t any more. We danced like it was the last day of our lives. I felt like I was in utopia.

The story shows how people are so quick to judge on without knowing their background. Although everyone knows Ainsley as “rude” or “stuck-up”, Blair and Ainsley quickly become friends. In the end, they bond over the natural problems of life by dancing in the rain.

*****************

A Robin’s Flight

Sarah W.

Dewy emerald leaves framed a small section of sky that was above a robin family’s nest. A crimson bird stared up in apprehension at the deep blue sky with its wispy clouds. His stomach churned as he watched the colorful wings of birds soaring miles above him. Delighted chirps filled the evening air. However, they sounded like the calls of creatures from another world, a planet that only had a sky, full of dangers and mysteries.   

A flash of scarlet wings startled him as his mother dropped into the nest, tucking her velvety wings around her. Her intelligent eyes shone with pride like the sun after a rainy day. 

“Tomorrow is the day, Carter,” she announced. “It’s time for your first flight. We can’t delay any longer.”

Carter froze, glancing at his flimsy wings. His older sister, Cecilia, instantly leapt into his thoughts. Her death kept playing over and over again in his mind. His feathers stood on end and a faint shriek filled his ears followed by the sound of a sickening smash. 

“There’s no need to be afraid,” his mother reassured. “I hope you’re not still thinking about Cecilia.”

Carter looked away, trying not to let her see his fear. He tried to stop his heart from pounding so hard. Every beat sounded like the desperate flap of soggy wings.

“Now you should be getting an early rest,” she insisted. “Off to bed.”

A few hours later, Carter stared up at the inky sky peppered with tiny stars. The moon cast a silver glow over every leaf. He closed his eyes and drifted into an uneasy sleep, but this was no comfort. Sleeping meant dreams, and dreams meant he was back next to Cecilia.

In his vision, Cecilia stood near him, her bright amber eyes glowing with excitement. Her scarlet feathers rippled in the breeze. Young Carter stood, gazing up at the sapphire sky in wonder. Cecilia would get to feel the sun’s rays and fly through one of those puffy clouds. She would be able to see the forest from above and dive through the leafy foliage. He felt his heart swell with pride at the prospect of having a sister who would soon experience the joys of flying. He tugged on his mother’s wing, begging her to let him fly too. She shook her head firmly, pointing out his delicate wings.  

“Don’t worry,” Cecilia declared. “I’ll tell you all about it. Besides, you’ll get to fly next year!”

 Carter watched in admiration as Cecilia gripped the edge of the nest with her talons  and launched herself into the air. She extended her crimson wings, soaring away. Gray clouds began gliding rapidly across the sky, snuffing out the sun’s golden rays. The delightful gusts of wind strengthened into a powerful beast, tearing through the forest and flinging leaves in every direction. Stinging raindrops started pounding down in sheets. The howl of a storm echoed through the forest. Leaning towards the edge of the nest, Carter desperately called for his sister, the wind and rain lashing his face. 

Cecilia had become a speck among the darkening sky. The clouds rumbled and glowed with energy. A jagged flash of lightning illuminated the forest. It sent a shock wave for miles around. In the sudden illumination, Carter spotted a dark shape spiral from the clouds. A yelp came from the falling figure. It was in perfect harmony with his screams. Both shrieks were drowned by a deafening roar. Carter blacked out. 

He leapt up from his nest, his feathers soaked in sweat. The taste of old copper filled his mouth. His stomach lurched as he remembered the morning after the storm. The sun’s beam was brighter than ever, but Carter had wanted to scream at it for shining so brilliantly when he was suffering. He believed the world would always be desolate and dark after Cecilia’s death. The trees should have been stripped of every leaf. The sun should have been obscured with thick gray clouds, so that the sky would turn completely black, like a moonless night. The air should have been cold and silent, like a deserted tomb. However, the trees were still richly clothed in elaborate leafy frocks. The sky was pale blue with wispy pink clouds and the air was sweet with the scent of petrichor and filled with the nightingales’ song.  

Cecilia’s body had been found hours later. Her feathers were singed and others were missing. Her amber eyes were glassy, staring but not seeing. Her wings were outstretched, like she was still trying to fly. When Carter saw her body, he didn’t cry. The pain in his heart couldn’t be expressed by tears. He could only refuse to make the same mistake.

“Carter, are you awake?” asked a soft voice.

He turned to find his mother, staring at him in concern. She must have heard him screaming in his sleep. Her wise eyes bored into him, unraveling his fears. She unfolded her wings, stretching them to their full length. The cool night air rippled through her feathers and for a moment, in the sea of soft crimson plumage, he saw a young robin. Her eyes were full of anticipation and hope. The mirage shimmered and the bird was sweeping through the air, melodious notes pouring from her beak. The rosy feathers glowed and the scenes faded. 

“Every bird’s story is in its feathers,” his mother declared. “Fear could be an enemy, but it could also be a friend.” 

“I’m not ready.” Carter stared down at his ruby-red wings. “I haven’t practiced.” 

“Not everything could be learned by training,” she insisted. “Did you see the images in my feathers?” 

Carter nodded. His mother had looked just as delighted as Cecilia had. 

“I was just as frightened that day as you are now. I begged my mother to postpone the event. My best friend had fallen to her death the month before. I didn’t want to do the same. But then, my mother told me the secrets to flight.” She paused, glancing at Carter. 

“Well?” he prompted. 

“You have to believe and hope,” she said simply. “Faith is essential. Often belief is so powerful that it becomes true. As for hope, you can’t just look at the risks of flying. It’s dangerous, but you get to experience so much more.”

The sky had lightened into a royal blue tinted with lavender. The clouds that had veiled the moon were swept away with a refreshing breeze. They were tinged a pale pink as the sun arose from its slumber, stretching out its rays. 

“But I have another option for you.” 

She swept aside a layer of foliage. Below sat a stone cottage with wooden shutters. A girl knelt in the dirt, planting flowers. Her brown curls merrily bounced on her shoulders. Her laughter was musical and warm. A sparrow perched on her shoulders, resonating notes pouring from his beak, as the girl stroked his feathers affectionately. 

“You could become her pet. She’s a loving girl, who has been begging her parents for another bird all month. If you remain in her care, you won’t have to learn to fly.” She paused. “It’s your choice.”

She unfolded her wings and soared away, her feathers glistening in the rising sun’s light. Carter stared at the puffy rosy clouds and the shafts of light that extended from the glowing sun. The sky had turned a pale blue tinted with touches of pink and purple. He had always wished to fly through one of those clouds, feeling the sun’s warm embrace. He wanted to soar through the leafy curtains that enveloped the trees and let the warm breeze ruffle his feathers. 

Life with the girl would be comfortable and safe, but he would never experience as much as the other birds. He would never gain the wisdom his mother had acquired. He would stay the same ignorant bird, living out his cushy life. Carter had always yearned to fly. Cecilia would have wanted him to follow his dreams. 

Carter stepped to the edge of the home he had always known. He gazed at everything he was going to leave behind, gripping the straw and grass tightly. Sucking in a deep breath, he leapt and soared towards the light of the sun, stretching his crimson wings and letting the wind ripple through his feathers. 

Carter symbolizes innocence and young fear. He’s frightened of new things. He also represents valor and determination to reach his goal. His mother symbolizes wisdom. She offers him an alternate path for his life and teaches him the secret of succeeding. The girl represents a way out. She could take Carter in and he won’t have to face his fear. The way out could be the easier option in life, but it isn’t always the best choice. His nest symbolizes a familiar space where he could be protected. The sunrise represents hope and new beginnings for Carter’s life.

*****************

The Height of Satisfaction

Kaya C.

The sun set slowly over the Hargy Jungle, leaving a smudged blue and purple sky behind to linger with the clouds. Wedged in the branches of the tallest tree in all of the jungle sat Denver, the alpha baboon. Below him he could see all of his kingdom: the leaves that whispered as the wind laid them gently on the ground,  the birds that dotted the trees with abundant color, and his troop of Beady eyed baboons. He wasn’t satisfied. The greatest king to ever rule over the Hargy Jungle had planted the seed to the tree that he sat upon. He did so in the hope that one day, he would sit upon this tree and be just high enough to warn and advise over his subjects. Thirsty for glory, Denver thought that to be the next great king, he would have to rule from even higher up.

The next morning Denver gathered all of the baboons to his home tree.   

“Silence!” Denver ordered. “I have an extremely important task for you all today. Today you will create a tower that stands twice as high as my tree does. It must be done before the sun parts ways. So that means no one shall open their mouth or stop for one second until this is complete. Understood?”

Defeated, everyone but Samuel answered quietly, “Understood.”

“Samuel, is this not clear to you? Must I explain it again, or should I simply slap it into your utterly incapable mind.”

Samuel replied in the fiercest voice he could muster, “It's impossible,  you know. We can work through the night, until our hands bleed and ache and it still won’t be done.”

The other baboons covered their eyes, terrified of how Denver would punish him. Denver walked slowly and methodically up to Samuel, looking down with a snarling smile that barely covered his jagged front teeth… He approached until he was practically breathing in Samuel’s face. He towered over little Samuel.

“You make a good point Samuel.”

“I do?” Samuel replied skeptically.

“Yes, time is of the essence. So perhaps it would be more efficient if you and the rest of the troop, which you seem to think you run, don’t stop for meal breaks. And perhaps, my rules weren’t clear enough.” He ripped a piece of bark from the tree beside him, never looking away from Samuel, and fastened it over his mouth.

“I do the talking.”

“Samuel!” his mother cried out shakily, her head resting on her right hand, her eyes shut tight. “You don’t deserve this.” 

Samuel looked up at his mom with changed eyes, trying to tell her to stop and save herself.

“I don’t believe I stuttered…” He kicked Samuel’s mom down to her knees, and continued to kick her until she rolled over, looking up at the morning sky. It was the last morning sky she ever saw. “Let it be known that when I say something, I mean it. Now for the last time, get to work!”

Everyone scurried off frantically. They grabbed axes and cut down half of their kingdom in an attempt to create this tower. No one spoke. Even their moves were silent. After hours of working themselves ragged, everyone was distraught. The sun was setting once again, and morale was low. The little ones were whimpering, and the mature were shaking from taking on the little ones' workloads. The elderly felt faint, and started dragging their feet. Everyone was dehydrated, but no one dared to drink anything. The fear of facing Denver’s rath kept everyone working. And so, just as the last wisps of sunshine disappeared through the layers of trees, they finished. Denver swung down from his perch.

“Well well. Look who got it done. I knew all you needed was... a little motivation.” He chuckled. He grabbed his royal staff. It was a wooden pole, coiled around with a vine and spearheaded with the face of the baboon: mouth open, revealing jagged teeth, and small black eyes glossed over with a white intenity. The oak tower stood tall, log by log, and it disappeared into a cloud’s haze. A ladder was stuck to its side. Denver grabbed the first rung with one hand, the other out to his side. He started climbing, his smirk widening as he made his way. Alas, he peeked over the top, and pulled himself onto the platform. He sat over the world, feeling like he was an entity to be feared. The chatter that once clustered his ears was drowned away into the wind. He only heard his thoughts, and how glorious they were. He couldn’t see his troop from so high, but that didn’t matter in the face of such greatness, he thought.

Down below on the jungles leafy floor, everyone collapsed into their appropriate branches. Samuel looked up at the tower, and thought of his mother. A woman who spoke softly, and had a laugh that could make anyone smile by just watching.  He cried softly to himself. When the tears didn’t want to continue, he began giving in to sleep. UThat was until he heard a thud behind him, then another, and then a third,. bBefore he could turn around and seeandto see what was happening, logs were tumbling out from the bottom of the tower. The structure imploded into itself, in what felt like slow motion. Samuel watched in stunned silence as everyone woke up around him screaming.

“Denver!” Everyone screamed frantically as they spread a tarp below him. “Jump, jump! We’ll catch you!” 

So high up, Denver heard nothing but the sound of a silence. He lay content in his so-called “power.” He lay above it all until the crumbling structure caught up to him. By the time he realized what was going on, it was far too late. He screamed as he fell through the clouds, and sank through the layers of sky. He fell past the tree for which he wasn’t satisfied, and through thick layers of leaves, until he met the ground, with a shaking thud. He was dead the second he hit the ground, but his eyes were still alive with fear. It was the same agonized look  he had given Samuel, and many others in his time. No one cheered when he died. No one cried either. He remained in the little divot he had created when he fell, until his very bones weathered away in the filthy dirt. Down below his troop, he didn’t rule over much of anything. 

The Height of Satisfaction, is a piece encompassing the way life has a way of giving you what you’ve earned. Denver is the alpha baboon. He is obsessed with power, and can never be satisfied. He represents greed, and the removed upper class. Samuel represents the greater population. He is one the only to stand up to Denver’s unfair treatment, and turns out better than Denver because he works hard, and doesn’t let his integrity affect how he treats others. In the beginning, Denver is not satisfied with his height even though it is the highest point in his jungle. So he makes everyone work, under unsuitable conditions, to help suit his demands. The time limit is put in place just because he is impatient, and knows that what he says will go. It is this decision that ends up being his downfall. It is so for two reasons. The first, is he hadn’t given his troop enough time to make sure their work was done properly and so it collapsed. Secondly, he had decided to go so high up, that when the baboons tried to save him, he was so removed and out of touch with the “working class” that he couldn’t be saved. In the end, the impact of him falling from so high up, creates a little hole in the ground, and this is the place he rests for the rest of eternity. It is symbolic, because his troop who he treated like worthless nobodies, ends up being higher up.

*****************

I Will Take on the World

Fiona H.

When the last seams were sewn together, I came to life. After waiting for a decade, I finally became a teddy bear; years and years of my button eyes, fluffy stuffing, beige fur, and glossy nose just sitting there, begging to be chosen out of the millions of others. I awaited this moment for an eternity and it was here at last. I was ready to live gloriously. I spent too much time in this factory and I wanted to view the world. 

I was packed into my own box which was decorated with a white cloud-like design, with fine red and yellow lines tracing it. It was perfect, and it didn't matter if it was identical to the others. On the top and bottom, there were words printed in bold black writing. I could not recognize what it said, but I doubt I could have understood it since my vocabulary was extremely limited and the factory wasn’t the best place to learn new words. Anyways, the best part about my box was you could watch me through a clear sheet of plastic on the front. It amazed me that only a thin film separated me and the rest of Earth. I could not wait to be in paradise. I heard the children play with you every day, and beautiful, vibrant flowers bloom all year. I caught my first glimpse of the outside when I got unloaded from the truck. The sky was abnormally blue, the green of the grass stood out like nothing before, and the flowers were perfectly yellow. I loved it. 

For two weeks, I remained inside something called a “warehouse.” An employee stacked us until we almost reached the sky! But then, I was shipped to the most beautiful place I had ever seen. It was filled with life and color, accompanied by shelves that stretched on endlessly and were fully stocked with toys. There were dolls, cars, building blocks, action figures, dress-up clothes, stuffed animals, and items I didn’t know of! I knew I couldn’t get settled in because someone would buy me soon. 

Each morning, I watched the sunrise when the aroma of coffee awakened me. When we opened, I could feel the buzz and excitement in the air when children rushed past me. Plus, I was positioned at the front of the store, and I had the pleasure of watching the smiles the grand doors brought. But I never caused one of those grins. People purchased the dozens beside me while I remained here alone. I couldn’t understand what they provided that I couldn't. I got pushed aside to the corner, concealed from the world and abandoned in the dark. The newer teddy bears replaced me and dust competed for my packaging. 

One day, a toddler spotted me. I slightly hoped maybe this could be my happily ever after. She beamed and giggled, with a mischievous twinkle shining in her mesmerizing hazel eyes. I gazed at her, striving to imagine a future when I was abruptly hurled onto the floor. She hastily tore my box open, spit falling from her mouth like rain. My cardboard was weak against her and my heart ached as I watched her shred it. The scraps fell like snow during a blizzard and I yearned for my shelter. My only protection was pried from me. She tossed me back onto the shelf, leaving me in darkness again. My once flawless box had jagged rips along the edges and it left me exposed to the world. The little hope I had left perished. Why couldn’t I be enough? I attempted to be better every chance I received; I stood up a little taller, I made my smile a bit wider, I made my nose moderately shinier, and I looked as welcoming as possible. I was embarrassed and frustrated. All the other toys would come and leave in less than three days. Conversely, I was disregarded. A few days later, a little boy caught my eye. “Mommy, what happen to dis bear?” he squeaked, pointing at me. His mother glanced at me, the horror evidently displayed on her face. “That’s a humiliation to the company! Whoever made that should be fired immediately! It looks like he has a deformity! Do not look at that sweetheart.” she replied, turning her son away. I wanted to spring out at them and demand answers. What was wrong with me? Wasn’t I just a teddy bear? Why didn’t anyone want me? 

After that incident, I gave up on trying to grab attention, knowing something about me was awful and disgusting. I stayed in my corner and watched the spiders in despair. I peered out from one of the tiny holes and watched as everything around me moved on to something great; everything except me. Their futures were bright, and mine was tedious and repetitive. 

A few weeks later, I was taking another peek of the toy store from the hole when I stared right into an eye. “I play peekaboo with bear!” a little girl screamed, startling me. She pointed at me and whined, “I want this one.” A man examined me and answered, “Are you sure, Sienna? This one looks worse than the others.” “I want it! It matches me! Look! We have the same scar!” she exclaimed. I noticed a thin pale line on her right cheek. Did I have that too? Is that the reason I wasn’t wanted? The next hour was a blur, like a literal blur because they walked too fast for me to observe anything. They paid for me and she unboxed me right away. That sheet of plastic disappeared and there was nothing keeping me away from the world. I had my first car ride that day, but I wish they drove slower, my eyes couldn’t take in everything so quickly. 

In the following months, we: had tea parties, played hide and seek, had sleepovers, dressed up, watched movies, sneaked candy, went to the park, built sandcastles, and lived. I look into a mirror every morning with Sienna, to ensure she looks her absolute best (and she always does). My so-called “scar” was just a sewing mistake that made my face look like it had an extra bump. I still look majestic and I wouldn’t change it for anything because that mistake led me to the best thing in my life: true bliss with Sienna.

The teddy bear symbolizes innocence and self-love. At the start, he doesn’t know what the world is like because he’s only been inside the factory and therefore, he believes everything is flawless. This delineates the theme that things are not always the way they seem. Despite liking how he looked and not knowing what was “wrong” about himself, he tried to change because the people didn’t accept him. Moreover, his box getting destroyed represents how easily confidence can diminish.  The little boy and his mother portrayed how people constantly judge others on appearance alone. Furthermore, Sienna symbolizes acceptance and understanding. She knows how it feels to be mistreated from how she looks. The allegory illustrates society’s tendency to neglect or treat people in another way because they look or act differently. Additionally, the teddy bear learned that he does not need other people’s approval or validation as long as he accepts himself. The moral is you should not change yourself for someone else and always love who you are.

*****************

Requiem for Fools

Emma K.

Sea creatures flood the Coral Reef. It harbors the most vibrant colors and burning hues, and everyone wakes up with light streaming from above in golden columns. Right away they marvel at their magnificent habitat. It’s already a busy day, everyone carrying out their jobs and causing a bustle within the heartland of the Reef. Some are in a rush to tend to the sick and some are restocking their shelves. Some are planning out the next big designs with piles of models and boastful blueprints, while others are leisurely painting and picturing a peaceful scene. Directors join the commotion - filming the next big hit.  

Taptonites are diligent sea creatures with slim bodies and thin fins that are delicate like daisy petals. They come in three shades of blazing sunset: red, orange and yellow. They have small puckered mouths and black beady eyes the color of a blooming poppy’s center, yet they are not devoid of cunning abilities, even if their faces might seem a bit silly. They also have long tails that culminate into stinging tentacles and a jagged underbelly; a beautiful creature, but a tragic story.

Everything on the reef was fine for years and years, and the tall, sturdy Alga plant was still sprouting shoots that cleaved the surrounding water. The Alga was a frequently visited plant for eating that every Taptonite prided in having; therefore it never crossed anyones’ mind that their crumbs and rotten leftovers would pile up. However, for Spe, a clever Taptonite, it greatly irritated him when they just left their waste there. Blackened, chewed on leaves, some even with strings of stomach-churning saliva were left, not to mention the suffocating stench of it. Only a few like himself bothered to clean up.

“Aren’t you going to pick that up?” he would ask.

But in return he would get piercing glares, rolled eyes or a strangled silence of perhaps the careless or the ashamed. 

Years later, the population grew,

And grew,

And grew,

To the point where Spe was just a speck among the new blooming garden of Taptonites. This meant more use of the Alga plant for the growth of a beautiful new generation, but also a new piled up layer of leftovers coiling around the stem. At this point cleaning up after everyone else was practically impossible, and the new layers were hardening into a concrete-like substance. Spe felt pushed over and tired from shoveling away every night. So, out of hopelessness, each day he would try his best to stop everyone who came to feast on the Alga, and tell them to clean up after themselves. Few listened, however; most ignored it. He felt like his lungs had clogged and that even though his lips were moving in sync to what he thought were his loud ideas and words, he suddenly fell mute. 

“Hey, you know you should probably help clean up.”

“Cleaning up helps improve our Alga.”

“All that waste could easily ruin our resources.”

A store manager, Temerarius, who threw his waste at the base of the Alga on the daily, spat back, “ It’s not like the world’s going to end next year. We have time.” Temerarius continued on his daily routine of eating and leaving, but his air of confidence that the world was going to be okay would have been hopeful if it weren’t for his leftovers.

“It’s fine.”

“Look, we can always reverse it.”

“It’s not that big of a problem.”

Spe felt shut down, and silenced by others. Why couldn’t they see what he saw? Why couldn’t they feel the continuously choked breaths of the plants and the Coral Reef? Why? “It’s not like the world’s going to end next year.” They didn’t feel the pressure, and the absolute inability to do anything. Temerarius continued his disagreements and taunts when Spe spoke. Overhearing conversations where friends of Temerarius brought up Spe’s ideas, and hearing them immediately shove them away was disheartening, as if it wasn’t possible to clean up after yourself, to make the Coral Reef even better. The Coral Reef was strong and resilient, but giving it help would ensure its survival for years to come. 

Maybe he had a case of paranoia, or maybe he was fussing over nothing. But he couldn’t help but watch helplessly as the piling garbage strangled the Alga like it was being swallowed by a viper; slowly and viciously, but subtle.

Subtle enough for no one to notice it.

Years passed, and garbage built up; Spe’s ideas were buried under them. At this point, the garbage had reached two feet high, with a normal Alga plant being only a mere three. Taptonites were much more aware and desperate to fix it, but digging up the gunk was like trying to break concrete with a spoon. Long and laborious, they could only remove an inch off the layers of daunting build up. All of sudden everyone’s desire for fixing this monotonous process was aflame, burning and boiling. Even Temerarius was speaking of it, pushing others to break it and shovel it away. It was practically impossible, and now desperation and frustration overwhelmed the Taptonites to the point they were almost as engulfed by emotions as the Alga was in muck.

“Can we please work faster? This junk isn't going to clean up itself you know,” Temerarius said. “Cleaning up helps improve our Alga.”

When was Temerarius a savior?A thinker?

A visionary?

Where was he years ago, when fixing this problem was doable? 

And now Spe would watch. He would watch his homeland crumble within his fingers, slip out and disintegrate. He would watch as the Coral Reef lost all its color, and he would watch as the once burning shades dimmed to a dull ember, to dull grays. To a colorless world where colorless minds got their burst of hue to late. Panic was embroidered within every single day that bloomed. 

He lived in a home of debris.

And now everyone did too.

The sea-ground was now covered, toxic and completely and utterly inhabitable. Too late. So the only option proposed by Temerarius was to leave and find a new place. 

Everyone agreed. Everyone was listening now.

So they went off into the deep petrifying blue, and allowed to be deluged by the unknown. Finding a new place seemed like an easy goal to the Taptonites at first, but they soon saw the real stretch of water they had to cover. Any place they found was either unsuitable, wretched or taken. They were shoved away from new possibilities the second they encountered them, and there was no one friendly who would lend them a hand. They were alone in a place that wasn’t home. 

There was no place like home.

Passing time meant the increasing hunger and search for Alga, a plant that only grew on the reef. And hunger was a cruel creature that tormented the stomach, sent the mind alight with desperation, and plagued the heart, with feebleness. It was a monster growling and clawing at their insides, grasping their walls and climbing up into their throats. Taking a hold of a tongue that no longer remembers taste. Spe watched as one by one, the group of Tamptonites choked and shriveled up in hunger, into a slim figure no one could recognize with milky emotionless eyes; motionless, the eyes of the lifeless. He could not do anything. He was as powerless as he always was, a mute mind, a silent voice. 

Yet he was only a creature, and any creature would soon starve. He felt his body close up in loss of food and in loss of the suffocated Alga he would soon end up to be. Each day he felt his stomach carve in, rip the tissue down like dough, and chew on it. Till he was a dying flame, and his red scales were no longer alight with the sun. He felt his slim body fail him, and soon he was upside down with the rest of his species, his eyes bland and colorless like the coral, breathing and existing in his last moments of failed hope. Spe and the Taptonites were at last the ashes of a dead flame,one with a lost world, deteriorated.

This allegory represents climate change and pollution because humans are overlooking the damage they are causing the Earth, and even though some do fight for change, it’s not an overall push from everyone. Taptonites represent humans and Spe represents those who fight for change. Temerarius symbolizes the ignorance of most people, and the Coral Reef is Earth, along with the Alga being the constantly abused natural resources. Spe tries to speak out about the problem, but most, like Temerarius, overlook the growing garbage, a symbol for pollution. Only when it cannot be reversed will those who ignore it suddenly realize. The starvation represents our inevitable death when the Earth becomes inhabitable due to our mistake of not being aware. 

*****************

Snowflake

Erica L.

Everyone who has tends to want more. They overlook what is in front of them and only look farther down in the path. But what they want is too far away, so they simply take one final glance, then give up. Many do not  realize the value of what they already have. They take it out on themselves and feel intense envy when they look at what others have. We compare their highlights to our behind the scenes so we tend to think other’s lives are better than ours. I now will tell you about a young deer. But unlike others, he was pure white. It all started on that late spring evening. Mother Deer was in labor and was expecting two fawns. The skies were filled with stars and the moon shone in Mother Deer’s eyes. She was far from the others. Hours have passed. And she finally met her children for the first time. The two fawns laid on the grass in their mother’s embrace. One had a coat the color of rich earth soil. There was a small smile on her face, earning her the name Joy. The other did not , though. It was rather dark, but one of her fawns gleamed  in the night. Upon a closer look, her coat was milk white. “Snowflake,” the mother whispered,  “you are now snowflake.” And that’s where our story begins.

“Mother! I have made a new friend today!” Joy said while trotting over. 

“That’s great, Joy!” Mother responded. Joy shifted her gaze over to the figure sitting next to Mother. “We ran around the river and played hide and seek.”

“I wish I could play hide and seek,” Snowflake mumbled to herself. “Then I could just hide and not have to show myself.” Joy’s eyes landed on Snowflake’s slouched figure.

“Hello Snowflake, what did you do today?” Joy asked. Snowflake tilted her head up and forced a smile.

“I stayed with mother for the day,” Snowflake replied.

“Why don’t you go make friends with the others?” Joy suggested. Snowflake simply shrugged and looked down again. Another fawn came ambling towards them. 

“Joy, the others and I  will be playing tag, would you like to join us?” he said. 

“Mother, I must go now, I will be back by evening!” Joy called as she went towards the other deer. 

“Okay, don’t stay out too late! The coyotes could catch you!” Mother said.

“Yeesh Mom, don’t jinx it,” Joy chuckled. She caught up with the other fawn and they disappeared into the distance. Snowflake was still on the ground. She always stayed with Mother and away from the other young deer. 

“Joy is right, why don’t you go out and make some friends?” Mother questioned. Snowflakes sighed and looked up. 

“I’m too different to fit in with them,” Snowflake mumbled. “Every time I look into my reflection at the lake, all I can see is a deer with hideous white hair.”

“Your hair is not hideous, Snowflake,” Mother said hastily. “Just because it is white and different doesn’t mean that it is ugly. You should be grateful to have this white hair, is it so bad to be unique?”

Snowflake looked up at Mother and scoffed. “Yes, it is that bad! Everywhere I go, I get stares and glances in my direction.” She proceeded to point at her fur, “They are probably whispering about  how bad my skin looks!” She got up angrily and said, “You know, as a mother, I would have expected you to be more supportive of me and my choices! Who are you to tell me what to think?” Snowflake argued.

“Do not speak to me that way!” Mother shouted back. 

“This is your fault! I can’t have a normal life because you gave birth to me like this!” She got up and started stomping  towards the lake. “I have spent years like this and I will have to for the rest of my life! Don’t you think that will be a lot to deal with?” Snowflake huffed in exasperation.

“I’m going to go to the lake to calm down. And don’t  follow me.” Mother watched as her figure shrank the farther she went. She sighed and went back to her business.

Snowflake gazed into the river with a heavy heart. “Why can’t I just be like everyone else?” She mumbled. Snowflake looked up and was met with the sight of her sister and many other deer running around and laughing  together. This made her feel even worse.

“Should I go up to them?” Snowflake asked herself. She looked back at her reflection and let out a small laugh. “Why even bother? They’ll reject you anyway. Don’t even try.” She rested her head on the ground and closed her eyes. “Take me to a land where I’m just like everyone else.” There, she drifted off to sleep and into the land of dreams.

Joy nudged her sister’s leg. “Wake up Snowflake! We must head back now,” she said. Snowflake slowly opened her eyes and looked up. The sky was painted with pink and orange. The disappearing sun shone onto the river, shining like a thousand diamonds.

She got up and followed Joy back to their mother. 

“There you guys are,” Mother said as she gave a small smile. 

“Hi, Mother! The others and I played tag by the lake,” Joy cheered. “I won!” Snowflake sighed and looked to her side. “Is something wrong?” Joy asked.

Snowflake took a deep sigh. ”I just don’t understand why I can’t be more like you,” Snowflake mumbled.

“Why would you want to be more like me?” Joy asked, confused.

“Because you’re just like everyone else! You don’t get judgemental looks in your direction or people whispering behind your back.” Snowflake said.

“You can hang out with me and my new friends if you want,” Joy suggested. 

“Why would they want to hang out with someone like me?” Snowflake mumbled. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Apart from your exterior, you are still a deer. You have a brain and can communicate.” Mother said. “You keep thinking that they’ll reject you but you haven’t actually tried to talk to them.”

Snowflake sighed in defeat. “That’s...true.”

“Others will not see any worth in you if you don’t see any worth in yourself,” Joy said.

“Tomorrow, I want you to go with Joy and her friends,” Mother commanded. Snowflake was about to object but Mother spoke first. “Don’t argue with me.” Snowflake simply rolled her eyes and laid on the ground. “It’s late, we should get some sleep,” Snowflake said. She once again closed her eyes, not wanting to continue the conversation.

And so, tomorrow came. Joy was walking to meet her friends while dragging Snowflake by the tail. 

“Hello guys, this is my sister Snowflake!” Joy exclaimed excitedly. 

“H-Hello,” Snowflake shyly whispered. None of the fawns responded. They just kept on staring at Snowflake. She gulped with nervousness and her heart was pounding fast. 

“They’re judging me,” Snowflake kept thinking. “They don’t like me, they think I’m hideous.” Snowflake’s body tensed up as she kept on thinking. “Should I run? I’ve always been a pretty fast runner anyway. I knew this would happen, why did I even try? I was so dumb for agreeing to this.” She was so caught up in her head that she didn’t see each of the fawns start to smile at her.

“Hello! My name is Raindrop,” a fawn said. Snowflake lifted her head in surprise. Another fawn stepped forward.

“My name is Ivey, nice to meet you,” she said.

Snowflake stood there confused. “You guys don’t hate me?” she questioned.

No, why would we?” Ivey asked. 

“My white hair… doesn’t it disgust you?”

“No, it’s really cool, I wish I had fur like that,” Raindrop said smiling. Snowflake felt an euphoria. Was she really just overthinking? All this time that she had spent feeling that others didn’t like her was just her tricking herself.

“We thought you would be arrogant,” Raindrop admitted.

“We thought that you felt like you were too good for us, that’s why we never bothered to approach you,” Ivey confessed.

“Let’s go down to the lake today, the sun is especially hot today. Last one there is a rotten egg!” They all agreed and started racing to the lake. Snowflake ran among them with a huge smile. Snowflake had finally realized.

“Self-judgement really is more important than any other judgment.”

Snowflake symbolizes the outcasts in society. The ones that are considered “different.” Joy and Mother symbolize friends and family who are there supporting you through hard times. In order to feel loved, you must love yourself first.

*****************

Moment by Moment

Sylvester M.

A warm breeze blew as a red and a green balloon squeaked together, tied to the handle of a cart with others in a colorful bundle. Kids played in the park, happy that spring was here at last. The balloon man slumped next to his cart in a green lawn chair, bored of the endless waiting. 

A child and her parents ran to the cart, the child taking three orange balloons. The orange balloons called out to the other balloons, crying, “Help! Help!” The balloon man coughed quietly, rubbing his head. 

 “They’re gone,” said  Red. “That’s the way it goes. The people come. The balloons go. They’re gone.” 

A green balloon looked scared.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re safe.” 

He was trying to be confident, but he didn’t want to be gone. What would happen? Would it hurt? Would it happen to the other balloons in the same way? 

Green smiled. “Thank you.”

The red balloon says to the green,“When do you think we will be gone?”

“What do you really mean by gone?” says the green, waving in the wind. 

“Well, we will be bought by somebody or another, and someday they will be finished with us, then we will be gone! We will shrivel up and be buried, and that will be that.”

The green balloon nodded quietly, looking worried.  Red rubbed against him comfortingly, feeling bad for scaring him. 

“Is that painful? Will it feel bad, or will we just notice it?” asked Green.

“Well,” said Red, “Do you remember being created?” 

“Not really,”said a blue balloon confusedly, Green agreeing quietly. 

“ I don’t have a very clear memory, but I think we were made in a factory. We were created for people to enjoy. When you think about it, we can’t really do much else.” 

The other balloons nodded. 

“Well, I think we’ll feel it in sort of the same way , because it should be sort of like being un-created.” 

“What do you mean?” said Green.

“Well it must be like the opposite.”

“I think I understand,” said Green. 

The next day, the balloon man brought the balloons out again. The balloons would float and talk, the man sitting. “Nice day today, isn’t  it?” said Red. Children came to buy many of the balloons, but Green and Red stayed with the balloon man for some time. A young boy came one day, begging his parents for a balloon. He took the green one, but the red one was left behind.. 

I told him, the red balloon thought. I told him we would be gone. He’s gone, but I’m not. Why aren’t I gone? If a balloon could have cried, he would have. Why aren’t I gone? 

Nobody came to take the red balloon for the next few days, and every day he became more dejected. 

One day a blue balloon told the red,“I’ve been thinking. I think we should enjoy life while we have it, because someday we’ll be gone.” 

“That’s true,” said the red balloon. Another child came, puzzling over the balloons, and trying to decide. Please not me, thought Red. 

“I want red,” the boy whispered to his parents, and the balloon man handed him over. How could the balloon man just give me away? Doesn’t he care about me? The child skipped home, grinning widely, the string tied to his wrist. For a while, he was home with the child. The balloon sat by the couch, the boy passing by with other toys. The balloon felt himself becoming flatter as the weeks passed, and the parents began talking about getting rid of him. The child took the balloon to the window one day, laughing, before walking away and going to bed. 

Red looked out the window, seeing the people walking by. He saw Green, bobbing above his captor. Red tried to wave, while people on the street continued unaffected. It’s like what Blue said; I should live to the fullest.  

One day, the child’s mother picked him up from where he floated by the window. The red balloon perked up, thinking that she would bring him to the child. The mother picked him up and brought him to the window, opening it up and holding him outside. When the balloon realized what she was going to do, he tried to struggle but it was no use. She let go, and the balloon started to rise. He floated up, going higher and higher.

I guess I’m going to be gone. Really gone, this time. I’m going to whatever’s up there. Maybe it’s heaven. The balloon passed the clouds. Did I enjoy my life? Did I do what I wanted? Have I done anything good? 

Red looked down at the city, suddenly spread out below him. I’ve never seen it like this. It’s so much bigger than I thought. Red’s string twirled in the wind. 

“There’s no one holding me down,”he  yelled. “I’m free!” I can see so much. The air started to get cold, and Red began to swell, the empty space inside him being filled. I feel so full! 

What will happen to the balloon man? What will happen to the child’s family? What about Green? What will everyone do when I’m gone? There was a pop, and the balloon was gone.

My allegory represents the impermanence of life. Red is the person who has to learn this, and all the other characters simply influence him on the way. Blue gives him an important message, which takes time to really sink in. The balloon man doesn’t live in the moment, rather planning for the future, and hoping people will buy his balloons. The child only pays attention to the balloon for a short time, before moving on to other things. Red eventually realizes that life is temporary, and the moment is all we have.

*****************

Beautiful Feathers

Max P.

In Cyprus Greece lies lake Larnaca which is alive with a city of flamingos. A beautiful black flamingo is born into a beautiful group of pink flamingos. From infancy he got less fish than everybody else and had to fight harder for his food. His siblings would always pick fights with him and he had to learn how to fight against all of them everyday. The mother and father flamingo loved all of them equally with all of their hearts but other flamingos just couldn't accept that the black flamingo had different colored feathers than they did. Although the black flamingo had to deal with these disgusting acts of ignorant hate every single day, overall it made him a better fighter and a stronger person. 

After years and years of endless mistreatment, but determined no to give up the fight, the black flamingo finally became somewhat equal among the pink flamingos. He quickly realized that believing he was fully accepted was just lying to himself and living a fantasy. He felt attacked by the government because he had a president who constantly said offensive and insensitive things about birds with black feathers and surprisingly that Dodo bird is still in office! 

A virus outbreak attacked the city of flamingos and he saw on the news that flamingos of pink color were being treated better in hospitals than black-feathered flamingos. ‘How disgusting,” he thought to himself that day. But people of his feather color weren’t the only ones receiving hate. The virus that had been spreading around their city had come from a neighboring city called lake Limassol, a salt lake full of grey flamingos. Out of ignorance the pink flamingos began targeting grey flamingos inside of their city. From stealing all their food, to jumping them, and even dumping poison chemicals on them so they would lose their feathers, the pinks  just would not give these grey  birds a break. 

By this point the black flamingo had witnessed enough hate in his life. He hated having to see every single day black flamingos being discriminated against due to their feathers, or grey flamingos being harassed because of the virus outbreak. He had enough! He decided he wanted to work for the press to expose the injustices.  At first the pink flamingo at the front desk refused to let him in for an interview due to his appearance.   When faced with this challenge, of course he kept on persisting. “Security, we have another coocoo!’ he remembers the receptionist screaming. After being violently thrown out by security he still didn’t give up. He was not a quitter. He peacefully perched outside near the door hoping or knowing that soon someone would pay attention to him. Another security guard comes out and says, “Sorry sir but at this newspaper we have a no loitering policy” sounding extraordinarily annoyed. The black flamingo lets out a friendly chuckle and says,  “Sorry kind sir but you have misunderstood. I am waiting for an interview to work at this paper since I knew that today was open interviews.”   “Mister I am sorry but if you do not leave the premises right now I will have to call the cops on you.” Adopting a more serious but still polite tone the black flamingo says “Oh that's okay you can call them right now and I will explain to them that I have done nothing wrong and I am simply waiting for an interview. I have allllllll day.” The security guard flamingo rolls his eyes all the way back into his head and says,  “If this will get you out of here sooner I will let you in for an interview.” 

As he opens the door slowly for the black flamingo the guard grins still annoyed and says, “You are one hell of a fighter aren't you?” The black flamingo doesn't respond to this remark but as he walks towards the waiting room he thinks to himself “Yes the hell I am.” He waited hours on end to get into the interview room since the receptionist made sure that everyone else in the room went before him even though he was the first one there. Finally he made it into the interview room.  

The pink flamingo with business glasses on his face and a neatly tucked tie inside of his $1,000 designer suit, looks at him with an entertained grin and says, “I heard a lot about you from the security guard and the front desk lady. You know you really are one hell of a fighter?” Remembering the whole security guard scenario, the black flamingo lets out a laugh and says “Yes the hell I am.”  Without even a second passing the interviewer lets out the biggest laugh that he has ever heard until his face of pink feathers turns crimson. Right before the black flamingo was about to open his mouth to plead his case for why he would be the best person for the job of journalist, the pink flamingo grows a huge smile and says “You are the one, you're hired!” Lost for words the black flamingo screams “Wait, wait, what, I didn't even speak yet!” “Your courage is enough for me to know that you're the most reliable candidate son, now get home it's getting late.” 

Still lost for words the flamingo slowly walks out with a smile that says, “This is the happiest day of my life!!” Before the black flamingo can fully walk out the door, the pink flamingo stops him and asks “I almost forgot to ask, but what is your name?” With his big smile he replies “Richardson.” “Nice name, now go get some rest, work starts at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow.” “Sure thing!” replies Richardson, leaving. 

The next day at work he opens up his laptop and begins to write about everything he’s been thinking about. How black flamingos are treated less than, the harassment of grey flamingos due to the virus and the how ‘colorism’ is still a shameful part of society. Although he knows that sadly he still doesn’t get the same opportunities as other flamingos and he wasn’t getting paid as much fish, he knew that the struggle is real and he has many more years of fighting to become equal to pink flamingos but that one day would come and his fighting would be all worth it.

The allegory that I wrote is about a flamingo with black colored feathers who is mistreated by flamingos with pink feathers just because he is colored differently from everyone else. This represents how in the real world there is still a lot of racism that is unacceptable and must be addressed. Enjoy!

*****************

The Little Brown Bird

Kaylee.W

The sun rose, awakening the squirrels, bluejays, and all the diurnal creatures of the forest. At the same time, the soft sunlight beaming through the trees told the owls, foxes, and bats of the forest it was time for bed. All of these creatures have their own story of their days in the forest, however, we will be following the little brown bird. Yes, the little brown bird, not the adorable squirrel, nor the sly fox, or the mighty deer. The simple, “unspecial” little brown bird.

No one thought much of the little brown bird. It didn’t have striking blue feathers like the bluejay, or great antlers like the deer. It wasn't wise like the owl, or strong like the bear. Despite that, the little brown bird always tried its best. 

The little brown bird set out to do its chores. It flitted down a familiar path, one it took every day to a patch of berry bushes. However, instead of a peaceful fly to the patch, the little brown bird was met with something else; The bird heard arguing. Down below on the leaf-strewn forest floor were the blue jay and the grey squirrel. An acorn lay between the two. 

The little brown bird glided down to see what the commotion was about. 

“It’s mine! I need it for winter!” the blue jay argued.

“I need it for winter too!” the squirrel said, jumping at the acorn, only to be pushed away by the blue jay. 

“Please stop fighting,” the little brown bird interrupted, “There are more acorns in the forest.”

“But I saw this acorn first, so it’s mine!” the blue jay said. With that, the two began bickering again. 

“Why don’t you share?” the little brown bird asked.

“What?” the squirrel responded, “We don’t share, that’s not something we do.” The blue jay nodded.

“Perhaps that needs to change,” the little bird had their attention now, “ If you two share and work together, you may be able to collect more acorns than you would alone.” The blue jay and the squirrel thought it over, after all, the little brown bird did have a valid argument.

“I…” the blue jay hesitated, “I don’t see why not.”

“Yeah, that is probably better than fighting over one acorn,” the squirrel confessed. Before long, the squirrel and the blue jay learned to work together with the help of the little brown bird. And by the end of the day, together they had collected more acorns than either of them could alone. That day, the little brown bird completely forgot about blackberries, it was just happy that he helped the blue jay and the squirrel get along.

The little brown bird flew home, exhausted from collecting acorns all day, and ready to settle in for the night. The little brown bird landed in its nest, laying down to sleep. However, a noise had peaked its interest. The bird heard subtle splashing. It peered down, spotting a raccoon, sitting by itself near the lake. It looked lonely, so despite being tired, the little brown bird decided to keep it company. 

Gliding down, the little brown bird said, "Hey, you look lonely. Want to hang out?"

The raccoon jumped a bit, startled by the bird, "Oh, umm… Are you sure? It's late for a little bird like you to be up." 

"I don't mind. You looked like you could use some company."the little brown bird responded. 

" Oh, alright then, sure. "The raccoon said, shifting to the right to make room on the log that it sat upon. With that, the little brown bird fluttered down and took a seat next to the raccoon. 

"So, what are you doing right now?" the little brown bird asked, wanting to find something to do with the raccoon. 

"Nothing much. Skipping stones I guess…" the raccoon trailed off, pondering something, "My friend couldn't come today, something about a flooding den," the raccoon said, picking up a stone and tossing it at the water. The stone bounced off water, making tiny splashes. 

"Well, I'll keep you company then," the little brown bird said, picking up a stone and tossing it towards the lake. The little brown bird watched with disappointment as the rock hit the water and sank. 

"I guess beaks aren't ideal for rock skipping huh?" the little brown bird sheepishly remarked, eliciting a giggle from the raccoon. 

"Let's do something else then,"the raccoon said, picking up a stick. Using the stick, the raccoon drew a small grid in the dirt. The little brown bird looked at it confused, until the raccoon once again piped up.

"Tic tac toe" the raccoon said with a smile. The bird smiled too, picking a yellow flower and drawing an "X" in one of the boxes with it. The two continued on like that, playing until the moon was high in the sky, and the little bird half asleep. 

"You should go to bed now, it's really late, "the raccoon said, seeing the little brown bird yawn and nod. 

"Well, goodnight raccoon." The bird said, preparing to fly off. 

"Wait!" the raccoon called, as the little brown bird was about to take off, "you're probably exhausted, let me carry you up." The little bird nodded and mumbled a thank you as it was picked up and carried to its nest, indeed exhausted. Almost immediately the little brown bird fell asleep, and the raccoon whispered, "Thank you for keeping me company." 

The next morning the little brown bird rose, meeting the warm morning sun. It would have to head to the berry bushes today, since the little brown bird had forgotten the day prior. 

The little brown bird glided to the berry bush patch, this time, the usual peaceful flight ensued. Except for one thing. When the brown bird landed, it could hear soft crying from one of the bushes. The little brown bird didn't want to just leave someone upset, so it sought them out. 

It didn't take long; in fact the quiet crying was coming from a nearby bush. Well, not the bush, but rather a small bat inside. 

"Hey, you okay?" the little brown bird said softly. Upon hearing a voice the bat quickly stopped crying. 

"Well, not really…" the bat said through attempts to even out its own breathing. 

"Want to talk about it?" the bird said, placing a comforting wing on the bat's shoulder. The bat, now taking deep even breaths responded with a question. 

"Am… Am I evil?" the bat asked looking up at the little brown bird. 

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?" the little brown bird said softly, clearly upset. 

"It's just that to everyone else I look scary. I have sharp teeth, and sleep in a cave, which makes everyone assume I'm evil," the bat said. 

"Not everyone," the bird began, smiling gently, "I don't think you're evil." Without warning, the bat engulfed the bird in a hug, and thanked it, before flying back to its cave to turn in for the day. 

Everyday the little brown bird found someone who could use its help, and everyday it helped them. Whether they were "lonely raccoons," or "bickering blue Jays," didn't matter. All that mattered to the little brown bird was that it helped them. 

However, today it was the little brown bird who needed help. The sun would set soon, and the little brown bird sat by the lake. All day the bird watched the deer with their mighty antlers, and the other birds with colorful feathers or powerful talons, while the little brown bird only had its plain, light brown feathers, and small stature. And it sat there, wishing it had something different; something that made it special. The little brown bird's sulking would not go unnoticed. 

When the animals of the forest passed by and saw the sad little bird, they felt a pang in their heart as they remembered all the little brown bird had done for them. So, slowly they gathered around the lake, without saying a word. Although no one spoke, their presence spoke for them. They were all showing their gratitude, and wanted to cheer the little brown bird up. Then, silently, the wise old owl glided down to the little brown bird and spoke. 

"What troubles you, little brown bird?" the owl asked, "it saddens all of us to see you so down." The little brown bird hesitated before speaking. 

"It's just that the deer have their horns, the wolves have their strength, the other birds have their colors and patterns, but what do I have? What makes me, a plain, little brown bird so special?" the brown bird asked. 

"Why that is simple. Little brown bird, you are kind. No matter what, you always made time for others. Like when you helped the blue jay and the squirrel get along, or kept the raccoon company, and when you comforted the bat, and so many more things. And this should be better known," the owl stated," So, from now on, I declare that you will be known as the little kind bird. "

The kind brown bird smiled as everyone cheered. Perhaps the little brown bird was not so  “unspecial” after all. 

The theme of this story is that physical attributes are not the only thing that makes you shine.  The little bird's kindness made it stand out. The bird knew if the blue jay and the squirrel worked together they could accomplish much more. In addition, the brown bird was generous with its time, spending a night with the racoon. Along with that, the little brown bird was not judging the bat for its looks. 

*****************

The Final Battle

Andrew W.

Once upon a time there were two planets, Earth and Venus. They were best friends and lived right next to each other. Each day, they would greet each other and tell of their dreams. Fast forward 4.6 billion years later, here we are, in a world of great danger. The earth is dying of the actions that we have caused. Pollution and littering brought a great wave of sickness over the Earth. At this time, it wouldn’t be surprising if the Earth gave up. 

“Excuse me, Venus *cough* I apologize for my sickness but I do not think we will be meeting any longer,” said the Earth in a raspy voice. 

“What is that supposed to mean Earth?” said Venus. 

“The evil people who seek power and think of nothing else besides greed. The ones who have no form of goodness in their black hearts. They have damaged me greatly. And this time I fear my old friend, there is no fixing it,” said Earth in a quiet tone.

“Well then these people you speak of, we shall destroy them and end their very peasant-like lives!!!” shouted Venus angrily. 

“No,” the Earth said quietly. “There is no stopping them this time. Death is inevitable for me.”

And the Earth went into his orbit without even saying goodbye to Venus.

“Until we meet next time Venus, until we meet next time,” the Earth whispered with fear in his voice. 

Now, on Earth, there are some people who care about fixing pollution and others who don’t. The ones who do, Earth plans on saving. Earth has created a master plan to save those who deserve saving. 

On Earth, there was a man named Joneth. He cared greatly about the Earth and did his very best to try to fix the Earth. He was extremely grateful for having the Earth, but others judged his opinion. Those others were rich men. Those rich men always think they are the best and always thinking that they are on top. Although Joneth isn’t the richest man, he also is one of the poorest. He is a homeless 32 year old, who although is extremely poor, he still tries his best to save the Earth. He says, “The Earth deserves our help, but we don’t deserve the Earth. So therefore, we must help the Earth in order for us to be able to deserve the Earth.” Many people find him as stupid, but there is one person who sees a bright light inside of Joneth----Venus. 

“Pollution’s power is too strong. I cannot fight it,” said the Earth wearily. 

“Please fight it my friend. You deserve life and Joneth deserves life but nobody else,” Venus replied. 

“I don't see what you see in Joneth my old friend. I fear that if I am being wiped out, then everyone will be wiped out,” Earth argued. 

“Then we will make Joneth’s death the worthiest one,” Venus said quietly. 

“And how exactly do we do that?” Earth said questionably. 

“We let him continue fighting pollution,” Venus said.

“Soon. very, very soon,” Pollution cackled in a raspy voice. “I will finally end Earth once and for all!” 

It has been 2 years since Venus and Earth have last talked to each other. Each day was like another year for them. It would be hard trying to go even a year with your best and only friend. 

“Venus!” Earth shouted.

“Hello Earth,” Venus said calmly. “How are you?”

Ignoring the question, Earth quickly said, “it is time.”

“What? Time for what?” Venus said suspiciously. 

“I fear my brother, it is time to face my worst enemy.”

As pollution travels to outer space, where Venus and Earth usually meet up, Earth says to Venus, “Brother, I fear we may not see each other again. Will you do me a favor?”

“Yes Earth, anything,” Venus replied. 

“Will you please go far away?” Earth said with sadness in his voice. 

“I can’t believe you are actually doing this,” Venus replied. 

“I must. For everyone I must fight this battle.” Earth said confidently. 

The wait for Pollution to come held tension in the space. Although none of them said anything, Earth could feel Venus’s tension. And combined with his, that was not a good combination. Although Earth desperately wanted to stay with Venus, he knew better to not think about himself first and think about the safety of his one and only friend. 4.5 billion years ago, Earth was born. The memories of Venus becoming a planet .04 billion years later flooded into his mind. 

“Venus please leave.” Earth muttered. “I fear the safety of yours please do leave.”

“Please let me stay. I must help if Pollution is really that scary.” Venus begged. 

In a firm voice Earth said, “No. You must leave right at this moment.”

Venus pleaded and begged but it was no use for Earth pushed him into orbit again and this was the last time Earth has ever seen Venus. 

“Earth! I choose you to duel!” Pollution screamed. “Fight me or coward away and die slowly!” 

“Pollution, my dearest friend, I will fight you but only because of your foolish ways. All the people on my planet have already retreated onto another planet. If you destroy me, you destroy nothing,” Earth explained. 

“Don’t call me your dearest friend old Earth. I am much stronger than you, much faster than you, and much wiser than you old fool,” Pollution cackled as his wicked body contorted into weird shapes like none has ever seen.  

And with one swipe, Pollution sliced through the Earth, before he could even react, leaving Earth in two halves of burning in black ash, streaked with dulling rock and burnt trees. The small flames soon died out as Earth disintegrated into nothing. 

“Job done,” Pollution snickered. “Job well done.” 

A sudden pain in Venus’s chest forced him to wince hard. Then he realized what had happened and started weeping for his lost friend in battle. 

“Earth! My old friend I will never forget you. Until we meet again Earth.” Venus barely cried out with tears slowly dripping down him. 

This allegory is about how pollution is treated like nothing to most people. It is to make the reader understand how pollution isn’t something that should be tignored. Earth is where we live, it gave us everything that we have right now. Even just by that generosity we owe Earth everything. Many people just ignore pollution when it is a clear problem that is fixable. Although it may not be easy, it would help just to at least do something even if it is a small deed.

*****************

Singled Out

Betty Y.

It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining down on the park and the soft breeze gently rustling the leaves. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that great of a day for one certain bird.

Charlie the park pond’s only duck was the target of bullying for all the birds. The swans and geese ridiculed him and laughed at him everywhere he went. This particular day was no different.

“Hey look, it’s the deformed goose!” a swan exclaimed, beating her wings as Charlie swam by. Droplets of water hit the duck's face and feathers, but Charlie could do nothing about it. Either he dealt with it or he complained, the latter making the harassment worse. 

Quickly, Charlie scrambled onto land and sat down, with his head hanging low as to not attract any of the bigger bird's attention. I wonder when it’ll finally all stop, he thought as he glanced over at the pond. He missed the times back when he was younger when none of the birds bothered with him. Sure he was a strange color, but the younger birds cared less about differences. 

As Charlie was lost in thought, something suddenly slammed the duck into the pond. 

“Sorry, you were blocking the warm spot,” the goose snickered as Charlie squeaked from surprise.

“Can you please leave me a-” Charlie yelled in protest before three swans swam towards him. Instantly, the duck closed his beak and made himself as small as he could.

“Well, look what we have here,”one swan said as she sneered at Charlie.

The swan next to her opened his wings and started aggressively beating the water while

shouting, “Get out of our pond, stubby!”

All three swans laughed at Charlie as he struggled to swim away from the huge waves of water hitting him from every direction. It’s okay, I can just endure this a little longer, he thought, noticing a little girl running towards him.

“Hey, hey! Shoo! Go away!” the girl cried, running towards the scene. She flailed her arms even more wildly than the swans, and waved them away. 

Thank you! Charlie thought, as he quacked happily. He swam towards her and waved his tail feathers as the girl patted him on the head. 

“Those birds are mean, ducky! Why do you let them hurt you like that?” she exclaimed loudly. “Listen ducky, when those swans come and hit you, you need to hit them back!”  

Charlie quacked in response and gently nudged her pocket. There was food in there somewhere and he knew it. It had been a day or two since Charlie was able to actually eat. Quickly, the little girl pulled out the food and held it in front of Charlie. Again, she shouted loudly, “Ducky, I’ll only feed you if you stand up for yourself!”

Can I really do that? It only seems to make things worse, Charlie thought. He looked back at the pond where the geese and swans swam so gracefully. There was no place for him there.

However, he could try what the girl said. 

“Swans and geese, why do you hate me?” Charlie asked as loudly as he could. “Is it because I’m the only duck in this pond? I don’t know what I’ve done but I would like it for you to stop harassing me!” 

His loud outburst made all the birds stare at him and he could hear a few of them giggling. 

“Did you honestly think saying that would make us stop?” a goose piped up. Charlie instantly flinched as all the birds started laughing at him.

One of the swans shouted, “You’re just not like the rest of us, Puddles!” 

The laughter intensified, and only made Charlie feel worse. His attempt to stop the bullying had backfired horribly.

“Ducky, did it work? Good job, ducky!” the little girl squealed and pulled out the oats she was carrying. Charlie stared at his food, his appetite disappearing as the insults sank in. Am I really this useless?

The night came quickly and as all the other birds had fallen asleep, Charlie lay awake looking at the dark sky. Why am I such a failure? Are all the things the other birds say to me really true? These thoughts kept Charlie awake the whole night as he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes.

Morning came, and the park began to swarm with humans again. Charlie found himself unable to move towards the pond. He glanced at the swans and geese and they were all laughing at something. Could it be me? Charlie wondered. The events of yesterday came back into his mind and he looked away, embarrassed.

“Hi, ducky!” 

Charlie turned around to see the same girl from yesterday running towards him. He turned away and walked further from her. He was ashamed of the events of yesterday. After all, what the birds had said must be true if they were repeated all the time.

“Ducky? Why are you running away from me? Come back!” the girl yelled, as she kept

following Charlie. She quickly speeded up and caught Charlie by the wings. Surprised, the duck squawked and thrashed wildly for a moment. 

The girl frowned and said, “Ducky? Did I do something? Is it the other birds again?”

Charlie stopped moving and nodded. I tried to stop them! I really did but they didn’t care, Charlie thought.

“Be confident, ducky! You can do this!” she exclaimed. “I’ll help protect you but you need to be able to protect yourself too! Watch me!” 

The little girl put Charlie down and dashed towards the swan and the geese. She shouted unintelligible things at the birds loudly while jumping, before a bigger human dragged her away.

“Lily sweetheart, are you okay? I’ve seen you talking to birds before and I thought it was all for the fun of it but now…”

The conversation drifted off, as the girl and the human walked out of the park. 

Thank you, Charlie thought as he walked towards the pond again. This time, he knew what

he had to do differently. 

“Swans and gee-”

“What do you want again?” A swan interrupted, noticing that Charlie was about to speak.

Charlie flinched, but he knew he had to keep going. 

The duck took a deep breath and continued, “I just want you all to stop hurting me.” 

Laughter began to build up at the furthest edge of the pond. Charlie ignored it and said, “I don’t see why you all seem to enjoy harassing me so much but please stop. I have feelings too just like the rest of you and the things that most of you do to me are cruel. You wouldn’t like it if it happened to you, would you?” 

The laughter stopped and only silence remained. All the birds in the pond glanced at each other and back at Charlie. 

“He’s right, isn’t he?”

“Oh, what have we been doing?”

“I was so terrible to him…”

Soft whispers surrounded the pond with the birds looking guiltily away from Charlie.

“I’m sorry for being so cruel to you, Charlie,” a smaller swan said. 

“Yeah, I apologize.” 

“Sorry for being so mean, Charlie.” 

“I shouldn’t have done that to you…”

“Will you forgive us?” a goose asked.

Charlie was shocked. He didn’t expect this response at all and it felt so sudden. 

“I’m not so sure if I can really forgive you all,” Charlie started slowly. “Maybe soon but not now.”

“That’s alright. We can wait,” another goose said. All the birds in the pond murmured softly, but then nodded and agreed.  

Is this really happening? Charlie thought. He was overwhelmed with happiness and surprise now that the birds would accept him. Maybe now Charlie could finally be part of the pond with his own personality.

My allegory is about bullying and how it can affect people. Throughout the story, Charlie is being bullied simply for being different. He starts to believe what the other birds say and thinks that he really is useless. This shows how outsiders are treated in society and how seemingly innocent insults can hurt someone deeply. The little girl represents hope and positivity since she is the one trying to make Charlie more confident in himself. Charlie not forgiving the other birds at the end shows how it is okay to not forgive the ones who hurt you immediately.

*****************

Cat Violence

Angelica G.

As I walk down the street, I can’t hear my paws strike against the concrete. I’m a ninja on the dirtiest alleys of Los Angeles. I want to be taken care of. I want people to love me like a real cat owner does.  I was made to attack and to create violence, but I don’t want to be feared to feel important. I want to change. I strive to keep walking forward without getting caught up in a fight. I see a couple of my “friends” along the way. They all see me and jump into a group, ready to attack me. They know that I’m betraying them. I don’t mean to leave my crew, but I can't hurt innocent people anymore. I'm forced to go to children and adults in schools, stores, malls, and claw them in the face while our “owners” tell us what to do next. The crew starts to get into their fighting positions and prepare to scratch. They scratch me and that claw stays in me; metaphorically, and literally. It gives me a scar so deep and permanent. I’m down; I can’t get up from beyond this point. I can’t feel the pain. My body is in a state of complete shock. I have to play dead.

Continuing my walk of shame I start to wonder,

Should I have defended myself? If I had, would things change? Would I still be considered a bad cat? I'm running now. I need to get to the haven and rescue one cat before it's too late. Before they join a group like mine, I need to ensure that they get into good hands. Standing before the shelter door, I'm choosing what to do next with my life.  If I walk into that room, I'm a feline on the run. I open the gate and mumble, “I've deserted my post.” 

Black, ginger, white, and calicos surround me as my clueless and terrified eyes scan the space. In the back, I see cheetahs, pumas, and lions. I know that these cats are in trouble. I will stand my ground no matter what and I will save the one sane cat from a life filled with violence. A cat named AK gets out of her cage and looks me up and down. I can tell it's an act. The shelter owner is making them behave like immature brats and it's getting on my nerves. AK will want to run too. “Have you no manners? Every time another cat walks in here they always disrespect us. Liars. Petty liars.” said AK. The first letter of the first word in each sentence spells out help... She needs help and is scared to say it in front of the cheetahs. I take her to the back of the shelter and ask her to explain. She's a beauty. Her deep blue eyes shimmer in the sunlight and her white fur glistens while she walks. She looks around and says “The coast is clear but you need to whisper unless he’ll catch us” “He?” I raised a question...

 “He is the man who runs the shelter. He has cameras all over the place so that if anyone steals us, he’ll know.” She seems nervous. I need to get her out of here. All of the other cats are an empty plan. They've all been manipulated and tricked into being bad cats. AK needs my help. “At 00:30, we run. We go out the back door while the owner is sleeping and we head east. That’s where all of the nice Europeans live. They want cats and know how to properly take care of them.” They shouldn't be far, so we don't need food of any kind, we wouldn't be in danger. I’ll sleep for an hour, in this rusty shed, covered in hay.

“It’s 00:30, let’s go AK!” She paused... “What's your name?”

What is my name? My whole life, I was used. Nobody ever wondered what my name was because I never had one. “I don't have a name. I wasn't given one.” She didn't even hesitate with her next answer. “Rangel,” she said “You're a red angel, Rangel”

We are officially on the run. AK is a great cat. She's meant to be innocent. She's meant to be taken care of the right way. She isn't ready for the cruel life. Her bubbly comments get me every time.

“You know you're really funny, Rangel” Every time she speaks I fall for her more and more. No, I'm a guy. I don't fall that easily...

“RUN!” I shout to AK. It was my group. They're coming to haunt me. I still have violence in me. Maybe I should use it. AK runs to a rose bush and hides and I stand there. I need to prove my strength to her. I can't be a wuss, right? They approach closer to me and start to claw me again. They scream at me, I scream at them louder. They push me back, I push them back harder. I scream my name and say it'll always stay the same. They will never change. What I really should do now is save AK and run, but I need to show them that I'm not the weakest link. I am the king and she is my queen.

We continue walking and she hugs me so tight. I never get treated like this. I've always been the tough guy, rough guy, the ”just can't get enough guy”. It's different now. I'm not protecting myself anymore, I'm protecting the love of my life.

We start to approach the city of Renice. Cute streets filled with pastel houses. It looks like Pennsylvania. We wander the streets and look for a friendly house that would take us in. We see a woman in her mid-thirties and she gets up and smiles. She runs out of her backyard and into her house. She comes out with a huge chicken, and says, “You must be hungry!” She took us in with the chicken and we ate it in a matter of seconds. I look at her face and she has a piece of chicken on her nose. I lick it right off and she looks at me like she never had before. In a kind voice, she says, “Thank you. Thank you for everything”

6 months later we find out that the woman's name is Donna. She loves us and treats us like we deserve happiness. “The chief of violence wins again.” “No, ” she said “The chief of kindness succeeds again. He always does.”

This is a story about gun violence. Rangel represents an owner and her gun who don't want to be part of violence anymore. They don't want to hurt any more people. The owner buys another gun and they run away from their old group. They bring the guns to a woman who knows how to take care of them and will use them in the right way because the owner can't bear to hold one anymore without being associated with her old group. The cats falling in love was a development of character and how if you treat guns the right way, they won't be harmful to each other or you.

*****************

It’s Not as it Seems

Layla K.

In the universe the creatures are living in, there is one clear rule. Many do not agree with it, however, they are not able to express what they think. It has been like this since the universe was created. What are the odds that it would change?

Tritany, a fearless and vain wasp, had claimed herself ruler of Utopia. Utopia had never had a ruler, nor was it supposed to. Yet, she had done it. It was never easy to reason with Tritany, more like impossible. Everyone goes by her rules. Days at Utopia are stressful and unbearable. 

“Ahhhhhh!” A tiny voice yelped and flew through the portal. “Who has recklessly disrupted my beauty sleep?!” Tritany scolded, her wings flapping faster than light. “Queen Tritany, someone has joined Utopia. Follow us,” Greta the panda answered.

An ant marched his way past the portal, completely clueless as to what was going on. The portal appears whenever someone has joined Utopia. Another person added to the dreadful universe. “Hello, Miss Wasp. I’m Uno. I do not have any clue how I just got here, but I’ll be on my way. Cheerio!” One thing was clear, she did not like how he spoke to her.

“Listen up here, Uno. I rule this place, and everything goes by my command. I’m letting you slide only because you’re new. Next time, oh wait, there isn’t a next time. You’ll be kicked out of here immediately. You’ve been warned.” 

Uno looked around his surroundings. He scurried over to a dome made by the grasshoppers. “Apologies for interrupting your building session, but who is that wasp?” Uno questioned them. “She is our ruler. We cannot disobey her. We’ve already lost Masha,” one of them whispered. Looking at the welcome sign, he asked, “But why is there a ruler in a Utopia?”

They hopped away without answering. Later on in the day, Uno spent his time exploring Utopia. He discovered Tritany’s lair, and soon heard talking.

“Please, Queen Tritany! Do not banish me, I am begging you. I will do anything you need me to! Please, Queen Tritany. My deepest apologies! I will never talk about you again. It was the new guy, Uno! He asked me. I’m so sorry, Queen Tritany,” a familiar voice pleaded. 

Uno had realized it was the grasshopper. Why was he getting banished? Just for helping a new member? Uno hadn’t even spent an entire day here, and he was already extremely annoyed with Tritany. She is the same as everyone, and she had no right to behave like this. Uno decided he must do something. The grasshopper doesn’t deserve to be banished. 

“Tritany!” Uno bellowed. “Who’s there? Would you like to be banished along with Kai?!” 

“Kai doesn’t deserve to be banished. Listen, when you first welcomed me, I felt absolute hatred towards you. You need to learn to treat people right! You’re absolutely wrong with the fact that you rule this place. I’ve never met you before, yet I definitely know the type of creature you are,” Uno yelled.

“Enough is enough! I refuse to listen to a puny ant. You’re leaving with Kai!” she exclaimed.

“Before you take me, though I haven’t lasted here a day, I must tell you something for you to remember. You enjoy being treated like a queen, why should the others not get to feel like that? If you want to be loved and listened to, do it to others. I’m the only one who stood up to you, and I am not afraid of you,” Uno spoke, with great confidence.

“What are you doing?! She’s about to banish the both of us, just be quiet already!” Kai hissed. “Listen, Kai, I know you’re scared. But, know this. You will not be banished. She is not a real ruler. I’m going to do something...something none of you have ever done,” Uno replied. 

“Silence! I’m tired of listening to your gimmicks. Shut up, new guy. You won’t be here for long. I am a ruler, and that is a fact!” Tritany screeched. Running up to the altar, Uno knew he had to do something, the creatures are living their worst life right now. Little did everyone know, he had a connection with someone in Utopia. He stood at the altar, frantically pinning his name.

“Akeila! Goddess of Utopia, please step down.”

“W-what are you..? What are you doing?!” Tritany stuttered.

“Your call has been granted,” an angelic voice remarked.

“Akeila, everyone of Utopia, please come here. This will all be over once and for all. You guys do not know me, but Akeila and I know each other, and I am hoping she can help us all.”

“Uno! Oh, how lovely to see you again. What’s the issue?” 

“Tritany the wasp over here, has been ruling these poor creatures. She’s been commanding them and forcing them to obey her. They were all scared to stand up for themselves. We called you to help us, she’d banished someone already.”

“Tritany. I have been watching over you. I did not think you have such an empty heart, especially after I invited you here after the death of your ruler. I believed in you, thinking you’d stop. But you didn’t,” Akeila finished.

“Akeila, I am so sorry. I swear-”

“I must hold you off. Enter the room, and prepare yourself.” 

People throughout my life have shown me what it means to treat others the way you want to be treated. If the world would just focus on this little phrase and act upon it, I believe that it could make a huge difference. I believe that the world would be a lot better place if we treated others the way we want to be treated.

*****************

Flight

Oliver L.

WHIRR! Jenna scuttled across the yard, a seedling ahead of the vicious lawn mower. As she leaped onto a daisy, she said to herself, All ladybugs can fly, right? Preparing for takeoff, she spread her wings, mustered all her strength, and jumped. As she soared, she smiled. She was finally flying. She flapped her wings once, and went crashing onto the moist dirt. Flight Test #685 was unsuccessful, like every one of the attempts before it. 

Later that day, Jenna sat on her leaf bed, remembering her family. She had lost them when she was only 6, on a gathering trip went wrong. She had been picking berries when the wind came along. Born with wings that didn’t work, she had been separated from her family, and hadn’t seen them since. It had been 8 years. She had found a perfect home in the yard of a human family, the Jacobs. Maybe it was time to move on. Without the ability to fly, she would never reunite with the other ladybugs. 

Suddenly, the ceiling trembled, and dirt rained down. It seemed like a bird had swooped in to grab a worm. Birds can fly…, Jenna thought. A lightbulb went off in her head, and she rushed to her desk. She was up all night, planning how to reach her family. She would find them. They would be proud of her, and everything would be normal again. 

She left her burrow at dawn the next day. She ran the two blocks from the Jacob house to Oak Lane, where a friendly pigeon named Steve lived. She didn’t know Steve too well, but he was a critical part of her plan. “Hey, Steve!” she shouted. She heard a laugh, and the pigeon fluttered down. 

“Good morning, Jenna,” said Steve. “What can I do for you today?” She scrambled onto the bricks, and looked the bird in the eye. “I need someone with wings.” He glanced at hers. “Functioning ones,” she added. He pondered for a moment. “Okay then,” he said finally. “But not for free.” Jenna smiled. She had expected this.

“I have barley seeds,” she offered. But Steve was not impressed. He ruffled his feathers in disagreement. “A spot,” he said firmly. Jenna gasped. Ladybugs did not give their precious spots to other animals. The only time spots were shared was during the Trading Ceremony each year. As a symbol of friendship, two ladybugs would swap spots, with the leader of the family carrying out the process. But she had no family members to do that. So she’d do it herself. She had to, to find her family.

After a few hours of mental preparation, she walked back to Steve. “Ready?” he asked. “Yes.” She began the ritual. Speaking in Entomo, the language of the insects, she said: “As the flowers bloom, in the brightest spring, I give a spot from my own wing. Let it be cherished by my dearest friend, who will care for it, until they meet their end.” Suddenly, a blue glow took hold of her wings, and one spot floated off. Steve’s eyes widened, but Jenna stayed still. After a moment, the spot slowly hovered towards the pigeon, and attached itself to his beak. The ritual was complete. 

The light disappeared. Jenna collapsed, worn out by the process. That night, Steve carried her home on his back. She woke up at noon the next day, and felt sore all over. After eating some leaves, she went back to Steve’s house. He was waiting for her. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Awful,” she moaned. “I talked to some of my pigeon friends, and they told me that your family is in the rooftop park nearby,” he said. “Let’s do it!” she exclaimed. “Alright then,” he responded. 

She clambered onto his head, firmly gripping his feathers. Pride welled up inside her. She was finally going to be with her family. As they soared through the city, Jenna realized how insignificant she was. Suddenly, Steve dived down, and she summoned all her confidence. She tried to ignore her inner voice, but it kept asking questions. What if they don’t remember you? What if they aren’t there? But she knew that voice was wrong.

Steve landed on the deck of a skyscraper. “Here we are,” he crowed. She hopped off. “Thank you so much,” she said. He grinned, and then flew away. She walked into the grass, excited but nervous. “Hello?” she called out. Jenna heard tiny footsteps coming in her direction. Three ladybugs appeared. “Who are you?” the largest one asked. “I’m Jenna,” she responded warily. He chuckled. “Listen,” he said. “I’m your dad. We left you behind for a reason. You’re a misfit. You can’t fly. And now, I see, you’ve given your spot to a pigeon. You’re a disgrace to our family, and we will never accept you as one of us.” 

She burst into tears. Filled with anger, she ran to the edge of the building and leaped off. She closed her eyes, braced for impact—and hit feathers. “Need some help there?” said a familiar voice. It was Steve! He flew her to his house, and they sat there, not talking. Finally, Jenna spoke. 

“They rejected me. I never got lost. I was intentionally left behind. Because I can’t fly. Because I gave you my spot. Because—because I’m wrong. Because I’m different.” She sighed. Steve laughed. “Look at me! I’m a pigeon with a ladybug spot on my beak! How’s that for being different? Get on my back, Jenna. We’re gonna go flying, and we’ll be different together.” She got onto him, and they took off. For the first time ever, she felt free. It didn’t matter that her family didn’t accept her for who she was. That was their mistake. 

In my allegory, Jenna represents introversion. Steve symbolizes a true friend. Jenna’s family stands for prejudice and conformity. The spots represent trust, and flying represents freedom. The moral of the story is that true friendship overlooks physical differences, and sees what is on the inside.

*****************

Bunny Friends

Madison L.

There once was a bunny named Junshin. She had average bunny ears, an average bunny head, and average bunny. . .well, self. But what was average? She would always ask herself. And the answer was always the same; not her. She wanted to be more like her sister, Shakai. She was a model at Rabbit Fashions, a top-rank fashion company. The bunny wanted to be just like her, beautiful, slim, and walking down the lane with tons of cameras taking photos. She wanted to be less of herself, more of her sister. . . 

“What did you eat for lunch today?” her mother asked as Junshin walked into the house. 

“Oh, I had the usual; carrots with a banana,” she lied as her stomach rumbled. She hoped her mother hadn’t heard.

 “Again? This school has been serving the same things to you for the past 3 years!” 

“Haha, yeah. You’re right. I’ll be doing my homework. I’ll take a leaf of lettuce.” I hopped to my room without waiting for a response. I was used to this; not eating at school and just eating a few snacks when I came home. If I was going to be a model, I couldn’t eat much. Rabbit Fashions most likely didn’t want a fat, overweight model to tarnish their reputation. At least my mom wasn’t suspicious. For now. 

It had passed a few hours by now, and it was almost dinner time. I crawled out of my room, trying to sneak by so I could skip dinner, but my mother caught me. 

“Junshin, come here! Your sister came home for a few days, and she's here to eat dinner with us.”

I really wanted to say no. Looking at Shakai made me even more self-conscious than before, and it wasn’t the best feeling, but I’d never say it aloud. I would embarrass myself, and I didn’t want to be an embarrassing model. At this moment, I had realized Mom was still expecting an answer.

“Um, no. Not today, because I’m not feeling so well. You buns can eat dinner yourselves. You must have a lot to catch up on!” I exclaimed, then faking a cough. “I’ll just eat this.” I held up a carrot, smiled at her, then scampered out. 

As I closed the door, I heard her say, “Hmm, I wonder what’s with your sister these past few months.” 

The next day, as I sat down on the Gray Bunny Bus, I overheard a duo of Vienna White rabbits chatting as they jumped in their seats. 

“Have you heard about the new bun coming to school today?” one exclaimed. 

“My, no! What breed?”

“I heard it might be a American Chinchilla rabbit or a Silver Fox rabbit. And I think it’s a buck!”

My ears perked up once I heard it was Silver Fox rabbit. That was what I was. Maybe I could make a friend today. I just hoped it wouldn’t be a Havana rabbit or a Satin rabbit. They would gossip too much. Or a buck. Because bucks were the worst. As I was wondering what breed the new rabbit could have been, the bus paused at a new place we never stopped at. 

A buck in the front yelled, “What are we doing here?” The doors opened and creamy-white with a tint of orange fur stepped into the bus. I immediately recognized her as a doe, but what was she doing here? I realized that she, the beautifully-colored fur rabbit, was probably the new student.

She walked up to my bench and asked, “Excuse me, but may I sit here?”

“Uh yeah, I guess,” I shrugged.

She took a seat next to me and said, “Hello, my name is Hito Creme d’argent. And you are?”

I must have looked surprised, because she said, “A Creme d’argent is a rare type of rabbit. It’s probably why you’ve haven’t heard of it.”

“Oh, I’m Junshin Silver Fox.” I introduced myself, sticking a paw out. She stretched out her brown paw and shook mine. As we continued chatting, I could feel her being my best friend. 

At lunch, I invited Hito to sit with me, but she said, “Oh sorry, but some Lilac and Satin Angora rabbits invited me to sit with them. Maybe tomorrow?” 

I sighed and sat on the grass. A moment later, she came back with her pouch and sat down next to me.

“Already bored of them?” I asked, looking at her peanut sandwich.

“Yeah, they just talk about the bucks in the jumping team. Anyways, are you going to eat?”

“Um, nah. I already did.”

“No you didn't. And you should. Take some.” She broke off a piece of her sandwich and gave it to me. 

I thought about how only Mondays and Thursdays were my eating days, and how today was Tuesday. “No, it’s fine. I’m going to be a model someday at Rabbit Fashions, and can’t be fat.”

She looked surprised when I mentioned the company, and said, “Junshin, if anything, they won’t hire you because you’re too skinny! Do you even eat at all?”

I blinked. “W-w-what?” When I opened my mouth, she stuffed a piece into my

mouth. “Mf-mmff-mf!”I muffled, shocked. I had no idea what she was doing. Was she trying to kill me on her first day of school? Her creme-colored fur was about to make me sneeze. 

“Do you think being a model is all about having a perfect body and being skinny?” she scolded. “Eat!” She opened her pouch and crammed my hands with bread, hummus, celery, lettuce, cabbage, and a lot more food. I could see my shocked reaction in her obsidian eyes. 

After I swallowed, I gasped for air. “What in the world?” I questioned, staring at the Creme d’argent who could have killed me just there. “I can’t be a model like this! Nobody would hire me! My sister doesn’t even look like this.”

After school, I walked home with Hito. I unlocked the door and declared, “Mom, I came home with a friend.”

“A new friend? You haven’t had those in a while.” a different, but familiar, voice replied. A Silver Fox rabbit, with bluish silver fur turned and stared at us with her dark chocolate brown eyes. 

“Hey Shakai, welcome home,” I replied. “How was the 50th Anniversary Rabbit Fashions World Tour? You’ve gotten prettier! How is that even possible? How’d you do it? What was your diet?” 

“Oh, hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Hito interrupted and waved at my sister. “I’m Hito Creme d’argent. We have a lot of homework to do, so can you show me the way to your living room? And also do you have any snacks for the both of us?”

This time, it was my turn to interrupt. “Actually, only she wants snacks. Not me.” I wasn’t in the mood for them. I felt full, and I didn’t even eat anything besides the food Hito had stuffed in my mouth. I had put the rest of the food in my pouch. Trying not to look at my sister, I turned to Hito and said, “My room is here. Let’s go!”

“Okay. . .” she replied, confused.

In the room, Hito dropped her pouch and immediately stuffed her nose in my face. “Were you trying to avoid her or something? Is something wrong?” 

“Um, so you know how on the bus, we were talking about our dreams, and how mine was to be a model? The only way is to actually look like one, and my sister looks way better than me. It’s just like, every time I look at her, it makes me feel weird. Like I can’t compare to her.”

“Junshin, you do realize models don’t always look like your sister? Like um, you! You shouldn’t worry about how people think about you. The point is to show your true beauty and not change yourself just for this.”

I thought about what she said for a while. She was right. I took a patch of cabbage from my pouch and ate it. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter how I look as long as I’m happy.”

Shakai represents society standards, and Junshin symbolizes someone wanting to fit in with society. Hito represents friends who stick by your side and care a lot about you. Even the food symbolizes health because if she didn’t eat the food, she wouldn’t be healthy.

*****************

Controlled

Polly M.

Synopsis:

A virus spread that made people addicted to phones. Beck went to her friend Rosalie for help. Rosalie and her girlfriend Anna were good friends of hers, and they decided to go to Anna’s friend from high school Sam. Then, the last member of their little group would be Rei. Rei had a house like a panic room, and knew everything about the plague. Rei told them it was basically turning people into zombies, and had spread through their phones.  A giant company, Pear, had gotten everyone in the world to buy their tech, and then set loose a virus. It was meant to make even more people buy their stuff, but backfired and made everyone start killing each other to obtain technology. The five of them had never been very into technology, and so were spared.

Now, they were holed up in Rei’s basement with only their old laptop they had engineered to run without Pear. Beck had decided to keep a journal detailing the next few weeks as they turned to months.

March 10th, 2020

We went into the basement today. We didn’t feel safe above ground any longer. Luckily, Rei had an old notebook they gave me, so I will be updating this as much as possible. Right now, our odds of survival are okay. We have Rosalie and Anna, who are both pretty strong and are good protectors, and Sam is good with tools and stuff. The world is overrun with the techies. We’re calling the zombies techies, because they aren’t really dead, just entranced by technology. Anyway, we are super lucky Rei is such a survivalist, this place is like a bunker. We have rations for almost a decade. We are trying to go outside as little as possible.

In case future readers wonder, I should explain that Rei goes by they/them pronouns. I will try to make it less confusing by referring to them by name whenever possible.

Anyway, we need to go, light is fading and we need to preserve flashlight batteries. Goodnight,

        Beck

March 13th, 2020

It’s been a couple days, and we are all getting bored. You can only play Candyland so many times, and we aren’t able to run online games on the laptop without Pear. We want to go outside, but Rei said to wait until the techies are convinced we are gone for good. Rei knows everything about them, so at least we know their weaknesses and how to fight them.

Signing off,

        Beck

March 16th, 2020

Today we heard banging at the door, but no one was here. I don’t like staying in here, but Rei says the techies will be gone in 3 days. I trust Rei. We all trust Rei. Rei is the safety, Rei is our guide. They would never hurt us. Rei would never hurt us. Rei would never hurt us. Rei would never, Rei would, Rei§~¥£#

       Beck

March 19th, 2020

What even was my last entry? I felt….. not myself. I’m groggy and I feel like I’m not my own, if that makes sense. God, I feel like I’ve gone insane. Rei is the only thing I’m clear about. My brain says Rei is our only hope. I am to trust them absolutely. We heard the banging at the door again, but Rei commanded us not to open it. This was the first time they seemed flustered. I’m going to see what it was when everyone goes to bed. I’ll update on whatever I find tomorrow.

       Beck

March 20th, 2020

What is even happening? Last night, I went outside to see who was banging on the door and it was just a girl our age. The girl was really pretty. She had long, dark auburn hair and green eyes that seemed to pierce your soul. The second I saw her I felt clearer than I had since… well, since we came to Rei about two weeks ago. I asked her name, and she hesitated before saying simply, quickly, “Ally.” It seemed like she didn’t want anyone to hear her name. She then said, almost too quickly for me to register it, “Where is Rei?” I laughed quietly.

“Why? Do you need their help? Are you, like, their girlfriend or something?” I felt a strange rush of something like jealousy at the thought of her dating Rei, then brushed it off. I couldn’t catch feelings at this time, she was just pretty. It was nothing.

Then she got weird.

Ally said “Listen, you and all your friends are in danger. You need to get away from Rei, or they’ll-“

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Rei. They smiled in a way that could almost be considered predatory, but it was gone in a flash.

“Why, Ally, what in the world are you telling Beck here at this hour? Nothing bad about me, I hope?”

She seemed frightened. I felt myself slipping into that dazed state again as Rei turned their dark eyes on me, but Ally grabbed my hand. I felt a tingle of electricity and snapped my head to meet her eyes. The dazed cloud cleared, and then she was gone. Rei got me back inside, and whispered, “laisa.” I felt that dizziness again, but I thought of Ally’s eyes and it cleared. Rei is doing some sort of magic or something, and somehow, Ally can combat it.

I’ll make sure Rei can’t find this journal.

     Beck

April 1st, 2020

Rei keeps looking at me weird, as if they suspect that I’m not under their mind control thingy. It seems to be through their eyes, which have always been strangely dark, but recently seem fully black. Rosalie and Anna are fully under Rei’s control. They act fine, but sometimes their eyes flash that black color when Rei asks them to do something, and whenever I even slightly challenge Rei’s orders they get strangely angry, and force me and Sam to comply. I’m going to meet Ally at the abandoned video store with Sam tonight, and I hope Sam doesn’t rat me out to Rei. I don’t think she will, she seems to have a little crush on me. Not gonna lie, she is really pretty and nice and I might like her too, but we can figure out after the freaking zombie apocalypse is over.

      Beck 

April 2nd, 2020

Me and Sam are going to make a break for it. It turns out Ally is Rei’s sister, and apparently they have super powers caused by their parents doing experiments when they were little with mind control. Rei can perform it, and Ally can undo it and do a gentler version of it, which is not as powerful as Rei’s. I know this seems like a weird, emotionless infodump but I’m just trying to get it onto paper quickly. Anyway, Rei has been working with the techies to tell them our location so they can make them the ruler of whatever world is left after they destroy humanity. Rei will rule a society of subservient, technology-obsessed humans. The thing is, we need to save Rosalie and Anna. We need to get them away from Rei, to Ally, but they won’t leave Rei’s side. We are aiming to leave tomorrow, so the next entry will be the last.

April 3rd, 2020

Oh my GOD. We got out. We saved Rosalie and Anna. Apparently I’m in a relationship now? 

But let me explain it from the start.

Last night, we slipped some of Sam’s insomnia medication into Rei’s ramen. So while they were still asleep, we convinced Rosalie and Anna to follow us to where we agreed to meet Ally, where she has a car. The second they looked into her eyes, they went briefly limp, then came to. We gave them water and some of the rations we had packed the night before and filled them in on everything that had happened. Ally assured us that she has a house out in the country that Rei has never seen. We are going to live there. To address the relationship, turns out me, Ally, and Sam all have crushes on each other, so now we are in a poly romance. This was an insane month, and I’ll probably read this in years and think it’s super bad storytelling. Whatever, it has the important parts. It’s not like I can make a journal a full-length novel.

Goodbye for the last time,

       Beck

I laughed as I closed the small journal. I put my arms around the two women next to me. It had been years since the events it contained and we had found the book while cleaning house. Ally said, “Maybe you should write where we ended up.” Sam agreed. So I picked up a pen and reopened the book.

June 19th, 2052

This is the real last entry. I am a woman of fifty-two and am surrounded by my two wonderful wives. We are happy in Ally’s house upstate, and the techies are gone. We only had to fend off the few that tracked us down, and those were the last. Rei is probably dead, as if they weren’t we would’ve heard something from them, Ally says. We are a family, and will be forever.

 Beck, Ally, and Sam

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Flower Garden

Isabelle R.

Once there was a garden where all different types of flowers lived. The garden stretched all the way from a large orange tree to an old, silver gate. It had the richest soil and the most beautiful flowers. Every flower had its own spot in the garden; the dandelions live in the right corner, the sunflowers live in the sunniest patch of the flower bed, etc. However, there was one flower in particular who was different from the rest. She lived in the shadier part of the garden. Her name was Periwinkle. 

Periwinkle was a very beautiful, but very shy flower. She had lovely, small, white petals, that faded into a light purple towards the center of each one. These petals were in the shape of tiny teardrops. She had a fairly short stem, and three little leaves. She was tiny and did not talk to many other flowers. Periwinkle was usually a happy flower. She was always positive, and tended to look on the bright side of things. However, she had been feeling insecure for a while now. Every flower her age was blossoming into beautiful, mature plants, while she was still a small bud. Periwinkle would look at all the other flowers, and start to feel bad about herself. She began to feel alone. She felt like no one liked her, and that everyone else was better than her. 

“Tiger Lily has the boldest colors! I wish I looked like her,” Periwinkle would say to herself when she looked at Tiger Lily. “Cosmo has such perfect petals! I wish I had petals like her,” she would say when she saw Cosmo. Periwinkle started to think negatively about herself, and wanted to change;she wanted to be like every other flower. So, she decided to try to do just that. 

Periwinkle went to talk to her friend Rose. “Rose, what makes you so wonderful?” asked Periwinkle. “Well,” said Rose, “my thorns allow me to protect myself, yet my petals show off my beauty.” Rose, indeed had mysterious, dangerous thorns along her stem. She also had beautiful dark red petals that flared out from the center. “Wow, you’re right! Thank you, Rose!” “Your welcome!” Rose answered. Periwinkle went away, and tried to grow thorns and bigger petals. But to her surprise, nothing happened. No thorns had appeared and her petals had not grown. Periwinkle had failed at becoming a rose.

So, she went to speak to Daisy. “Daisy,” Periwinkle said, “what makes you so wonderful?” “Hmmm. Well, I would say my dainty, delicate petals and many leaves make me wonderful,” responded Daisy. Daisy’s petals were as dainty as she had said. They were thin and white, and blossomed from a bright yellow center. “Excellent! Thank you!” exclaimed Periwinkle. 

So, she went off and tried to grow more leaves, and make her petals more delicate. However, to her dismay, she grew no more leaves, and her petals did not become more delicate. Periwinkle could not turn into a daisy either. She was becoming very impatient. Her last hope was to talk to Tulip. “Tulip, what makes you so wonderful?” Periwinkle asked once more, desperately. “What makes me special?” said Tulip. “Well, I suppose my unusual petal shape makes me wonderful.” Tulip was correct. Her vibrant pink petals grew upright and flared out at the top and were different from any other flower’s petals. “Alright, thank you!” Periwinkle shouted, filled with hope. She once more tried to change. With all her might, she tried to make her petals look more unusual. She tried, and tried, but alas, nothing happened. 

Periwinkle was fed up with everything. She felt something she had never felt before. Anger. She was angry at everything and everyone. She felt a hot, boiling sensation inside of her. Finally, she broke.“Why won’t anything work!” she yelled. “I can’t be a rose! I can’t be a daisy! I can’t be a tulip! If I can’t be like them, then what am I supposed to be?!” Then, she figured it out. Periwinkle finally understood why she could not become a rose, daisy, or tulip; she was meant to be a periwinkle flower. Periwinkle was perfect the way she was, and she wasn’t like any other flower. She had her signature light purple teardrop petals, her flattering leaves on her petite stem. Periwinkle finally accepted herself for the flower she was. After that day, Periwinkle spent a little more time out from the shadows, and in the sun, so she could shine bright.

In this story, a periwinkle flower called Periwinkle begins to feel insecure about herself. Periwinkle is shy and spends most of her time in the shade. When Periwinkle looks at the other flowers, she starts to compare herself to them, and wishes she looked like them. Periwinkle goes to three of her friends, Rose, Daisy, and Tulip. She asks them what makes them special, and tries to change herself to look like them. However, to her dismay, she is not able to change. Eventually, Periwinkle gives up in frustration, wondering why she can’t look like her friends. In the end, Periwinkle accepts herself for who she is, and realizes she shouldn’t want to change. This allegory deals with the importance of self love. The garden represents society, and Periwinkle represents anyone who has ever felt insecure. Much too often, people compare themselves to others in a negative way. People think that if they change themselves to look like others, they will be happier. But this is never the case. Once you change yourself for others, you lose a piece of yourself. In the story, Periwinkle is not able to change and look like every other flower. You may think you have changed, but you will always be yourself. People need to accept that who they are is okay, and they should love themselves. There is only one you, and you can’t change that. All you can do is embrace it.

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Dressage

Jenna W.

Willow flicked her chestnut mane as she pranced around the farm.  The prance broke to a gallop as she raced to where the lambs were enjoying the sunshine with their mothers.  She displayed her dressage skills by gracefully going from a walk to a trot and blocking out the sun in the process.  In reality, many rude looks and remarks were given.  A young sheep, Mellie, even hollered, “Scram!”  However, Willow only saw excited sheep encouraging her for the gold medal of the dressage competition with Mellie cheering the loudest.  As a result, she sauntered away, pleased with her message to the lambs and leaving the sun.  

Willow glanced back at the glowing, golden orb; she had to head back to the stables for feeding.  Another swish of chestnut hair gleamed in the sunlight as she displayed herself sashaying back, showing off what she had learned in her training as she entered.  By instinct, she slipped next to her mother, a bit skimpier with all her prior training.  

“Hi,” the mother said.

Immediately, Willow’s mind began to slip into abyssal thoughts.  While she had the chance, she nodded back before the break out of insight began.  

Should I have taunted the lambs?  They looked so adorable and nice to their mothers.  What about my mother?  I didn't even say hello to her.  I can’t say hello now; I will look like a fool!  Does being perfect matter over my mom?  It was so much simpler as a foal.  Dressage has just… made me… ignorant.  

It was the side that Willow never let anyone, even her mother, see.  The farmer broke her line of thought with the bang of an open door.  All the horses rushed out onto the grassy field to feed.  Willow led the way with her two beat trot as her mother tagged behind.  She gaily practiced her dressage in the ring of grass and was pleased to see the farmer’s son come out and give her an encouraging smile.  However, she also noticed her mother looking away.  Willow tried to stop, but she could not go against the pressure of the farmer’s son who was a few feet away.  Many mouthfuls later, she tried to hide sighs of relief when finally doing a four beat walk back into the stable.  

The next morning came with the crow of the rooster and pale golden light streaming through the bare windows of the barn.  The smell of dew and wheat hung in the air as Willow cantered out of the stable to join the other horses and her mom who, surprisingly, left without her.  As she passed by the farmers’ house, she heard the father farmer talking on the phone.  

“Yes, the mother will be perfect… dressage training for your son… pick her up…”

Nothing too interesting was in the conversation, so Willow eagerly trotted towards the field.  The dewy grass was refreshing and woke her up.  However, Willow could not get over the fact that for once, her mother had left her.  The grass suddenly tasted sour as her mind warped itself into its abysmal questionnaire.  

Is it fair that my mother left me for all the times that I, supposedly, left her?  Was it for revenge?  Should I talk to my mom about it?  Who should I seek for advice?  Wait, the lambs!

The grass now tasted so acrid that she winced and several horses turned to her in surprise.  Willow could not have cared any less as she raced out of the grass ring and galloped towards the sheep pen with her head down and feet unaligned, almost tripping when she finally got to the other side of the farm.  The lambs were peacefully feeding with their mothers until they saw Willow and started wailing.  

“I am sorry Willow,” one of the sheep said.  “But I do not think you are welcome here.”

“Please,” Willow pleaded.  “I want to talk.”

The whole sheep pen looked at each other, then unanimously looked at the chestnut horse in front of them with skeptical looks.  Willow figured that since they were not saying anything against her speaking, she decided to explain her predicament.  

“First off,” Willow started.  “I want to say I am sorry for yesterday.  I should not have ruined your sunbath for attention.”

The lambs rolled their eyes, but Mellie looked back with somber eyes.  

“I have a question.  Is it fair that my mother went to feed without me today?  I know that I probably have not been the most affectionate daughter, but…”

She never got to finish her sentence because the sound of whining and bucking filled the air.  Without thinking, Willow used her hooves to smash the sheep pen’s fence open and galloped towards the noise with a stampede of sheep behind her.  The sight made her stop in her tracks so suddenly that her horseshoes got severely flattened.  There was her mother struggling to not get hauled into a truck.

“Mom!” Willow shouted.

The mother failed to answer as she focused on bucking.  Willow broke into a sprint, but it was too late.  Her mother had been forced in and the back door nearly slammed onto Willow’s muzzle.  The flash of crisp green exchanged hands, and it was all over.  Horseshoes clawed the ground, but the truck drove off with the only one who might have cared for her.  Willow froze in her shocking pain.  Her mind raced through the faint memories she had with her mother as a foal.  Her eyes fluttered as she saw a flock of sheep and a worried farmer hollering to his son for ice water before the dark thoughts swallowed her.  

When Willow’s eyes flickered awake, she made out the stables and a new sunrise.  She wondered why she was alone.  Tragically, yesterday came rushing back to her.  In front of her was the youngest lamb of them all.  

“Willow!” the little lamb squealed.  “It is Mellie!”

Willow said a quick greeting as she grew very tense from the awe and distress.  

“The sheep told me to say something about what you asked us yesterday.” Mellie added on.  

The chestnut horse gestured for Mellie to continue.  

“I hope that yesterday knocked some sense into you.” Mellie said as she chuckled and attempted to sashay.

Throughout the farm, a tinkling laugh from a chestnut horse could be heard, the first step to redemption.   

From the surface, my story, “Dressage,” might look like an unfortunate tale of a farm animal, but  is actually an allegory with a deeply hidden message.  My story was meant to moralize the issue of society’s wants and how that contradicts with one’s personal wants, which in my story, happens to be family.  Willow represents the process of learning.  She does this by falling into the trap that the outside world offered and realizing her lesson a bit too late to save her mother.  The mother represents family and other important values that could slowly fade away because of neglect.  The sheep represent outcasts for being themselves without hindrance of anyone.  The sheep were looked down upon by Willow in the beginning because of that exact reason.  Mellie represents redemption or a second chance because she stuck with Willow to try and help her understand the consequences of what she had done.  Although she did not do much, she accepted Willow’s change and stayed for a little longer to make sure she was alright to reflect on her actions.  Mellie was also meant to be a spokesperson or representative for the misfits since she would stand out in order to stand up or help console.  The farmer represents time and how it will never stop.  It continues to go on whether one wants it to or not because the concept is ruthless.  Therefore, it is up to the person to decide how to spend their precious time.  The farmer’s son represents society and how manipulative it can be.  The farmer’s son did not mean to, but he made Willow think that dressage was important because it made her feel proud of herself.  Therefore, Willow was stuck heading down a dangerous road.  The truck represents the actual consequences.  This time, the consequences were harsh; Willow had to lose her mother with no recent memories of their time together.  Therefore, my allegory, “Dressage,” is indeed symbolic in order to explain family and its worth.

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The Four-Legged Thief

Florence W.

This forest was just a small fragment of the world, but to the animals that lived in it, it was their haven. The temperature was just right, and the sun was usually peaking in the sky. The season was gradually changing into winter, so the fall leaves were slowly disappearing. At this time, all the animals were beginning to prepare for their hibernation period. Where they lived, everybody slept through the winter.

During the last few weeks of fall, Kara, a brown-furred rabbit, hopped out of her burrow to see the cloudy sky and the other animals gathering food. Her floppy ears trembled as she sensed the cold. Hopping along the grassy path, she happened to pass by Sean, an Atlas moth that was known for starting trouble. 

“Hey, nice day outside!” she called out to him. 

“Yeah right,” she scoffed back, turning to land on a leaf, “why don’t you check Cole’s cave? Apparently he’s been out more often to hunt and gather.” This piqued her curiosity. Cole, an aggressive Grizzly, was leaving his shelter unprotected. As a lazy rabbit who barely had enough energy to scavenge, this was a rare chance for her. “If you get there soon, you might be able to steal some of his berries,” Sean added, nudging her left ear a bit. It won’t hurt to take a little bit, she thought with a slight grin and began running to the cave’s direction. 

Eventually reaching the path that led to the entrance of Cole’s cave, she crept slowly and peeked into the entrance. He wasn’t inside. As Kara hurried in, her grin grew larger as she realized that there were a few piles of berries and roots in a corner. She knew she shouldn't take too much, since Cole also needed them, so she grabbed two pawfuls and dashed out. Reaching a bush outside the cave, she met Sean again and told him that she’d gotten some food.

“You could use these chances to prepare for the winter,” he replied. 

“That would be cruel to Cole. He worked so hard, and I’d just be taking away his results,” she said, glancing at the cave. 

“Well suit yourself I guess,” he shrugged, and began flying away, “but it would save you a lot of time instead of looking around aimlessly.” Sean’s last words made her think a bit. No one would be that nasty as to repeatedly steal someone’s hard-earned food, right? Maybe unless they really needed it…

Some time passed since Kara originally snuck into Cole’s cave. The weather was getting more chilly each day, and her food supply was low again. She hadn’t spoken to Sean since she left the cave, but his words were still echoing in her head. It would save you a lot of time instead of looking around aimlessly. Usually, she would shake it off and continue what she was doing, but this time she thought it over. 

“Hey would never notice if I took a little more berries and roots right?” she thought out loud, then shook her head furiously. NO! Taking them would make me a bad animal, and what if I end up caught? Her good and bad sides were at war, deciding whether or not to go back. Just then, Kara’s stomach grumbled, and she made the choice of sneaking to the cave again. If he finds out, I’ll just try and talk my way out I guess.

As she reached Cole’s cave, she looked around. The bear wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Taking a deep breath, she slowly hopped inside only to be shocked at the amount of food he had collected over the period of a few days. It was now over three times the amount she had seen before! When she was collecting, a thought went through her head: since he had much more than before, it wouldn’t make a difference to take more than she planned.

“I’ll just take a little bit more,” she mumbled as she grabbed another pawful. Suddenly, she felt the ground under her shake. Cole, upset that he hadn’t gotten much out of his hunt today, was stomping to his cave. Ah I need to get out of here! Kara’s thoughts were screaming in her head as she scampered out as quickly as she could. 

It was now a week after her two thefts at the cave. Now, stealing was a habit that she had developed. Kara would travel once or twice every day and immediately come back. She was more prepared than anyone for the winter. Word had gone around that someone was going and taking food from Cole’s cave. Most of the grown creatures were terrified of him, since they knew that angering him could do lots of harm. However, the children were more naive. A mischievous young squirrel approached Kara the morning before the forest’s hibernation began and asked her if it was a good idea to go into the cave. 

“Sure,” she began jokingly, “if you don’t get caught, what’s the harm?” The squirrel’s eyes gleamed excitedly. 

“I’m going then!” he exclaimed, running off and not knowing the dangers of this. A few hours passed, and there was no sign of him coming back. His parents had gone around asking everyone if they had seen him, but they all replied with a no. Kara was getting anxious. What if he got caught by Cole? If he got caught, it would be my fault. She then made the decision to check the cave for him. As she hurried to get to it, she was stopped by Mika, a duck that was waddling past. 

“Hey, are you the one sneaking into Cole’s cave?” she questioned Kara suspiciously. 

“N-no, I just wanted to see something near it…” she stuttered, trying to slink away. 

“If you are, it’s the wrong thing to do” the duck said, trying to persuade her to stop, “you’re going to get others hurt.”

“Why are you so worried? It has nothing to do with you,” Kara snapped back.

“Well, it looks like I can’t stop you,” Mika sighed and stated, “but this is going to have consequences.” At that moment, Kara snapped out of her stealing phase. She realized that by doing what she was, she was putting others at risk. If Cole were to get angry and rampage into the forest, the animals could get injured because of her. The squirrel she teasingly told that it was fine to go steal may have been severely hurt. She ran faster into the cave and went over her decisions. I shouldn’t have listened to Sean.  Why couldn’t I just have collected food on my own? When she arrived, she went inside and started shouting.

“Squirrel, where are you?” she yelled at the top of her lungs. She didn’t notice that Cole was right in front of her, and bumped into him. “I’m sorry-” she began, but looked up in horror.

“Oh, you mean him?” Cole said, stepping aside to reveal a bruised and crying animal. “He told me that a rabbit had led him here, so I’m guessing it was you. Kara was too scared to speak as the enormous bear towered over her. “So YOU were the one who stole so much food from me, he demanded, extremely irritated. 

“Y-yeah…” was the only word she could manage to say. 

“I’ll give you ten seconds to grab your friend and get out of here before I claw your tail off,” Cole growled, “ten… nine…” Kara rushed to the squirrel and pulled his paw. 

“Let’s go,” she whispered, urging the frightened creature to get up. As they got close to the exit, the bear roared and scratched her matted fur, leaving a bleeding mark. Kara winced and tried not to cry out in pain as she led him back into the forest. 

“I thought you said it was safe,” he muttered, trembling with every step.

Kara responded guiltily, “I’m sorry, I was wrong.” 

When she returned with the injured animal, all the animals gave her dirty looks and insults. They had figured out who was the one that began all this worry and drama.

“You monster! How dare you let a young creature get hurt!” she heard an elder deer yell out. Kara reached her burrow and covered her head in fear and shame. She knew this was a bad decision all along, but decided to go with it anyway. Now she was going to be scarred and looked down upon forever. I guess this is what I deserve. 

Kara symbolizes how innocence can turn into mischief and wrongdoing. She originally thought that stealing was bad, but with Sean’s push, she went and kept doing the wrong thing. Sean symbolizes people that make/persuade you into wrongdoing. Mika symbolizes people that help you choose the right option. The squirrel symbolizes how one’s bad choices can affect others in a negative way. The theme is that bad choices always have a consequence.

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