7B

Fragile Luck

Jamie A.

The tarnished metal on the door groaned as Jim struggled to lock the door of the small apartment he just moved into.  He came from his college apartment at Colgate, which was bigger than this Manhattan apartment which he had come quite familiar with in the hours he took to unpack his stuff that morning. His stomach grumbled since he hadn’t eaten since getting on the road that morning. His watch struck 2:30 as he walked outside. He crossed the street and found a nice diner downtown from his apartment. The cashier said blandly, “We close at 3:00, but take a seat.” He seemed eager to go home and did not expect a late customer. 

Jim’s food came out very well and as he ate his omelet, he was reminded of cooking as a kid. The things on the menu were familiar things he would cook for himself at home. The diner reminded him of his childhood when he went there to eat for the next few weeks. One day when he finished an Eggs Benedict, and brought his plate up to the front, an idea came into his head. He called to the cashier in the back who was helping the single cook clean up and took no notice. Eventually, both men looked up and Jim asked them, “Do you guys need more help in the kitchen back there? ” The cashier seemed out of his element in the back. “What do you want, kid?” The chef asked indignantly. “A job—I could help a lot you know” The cashier glanced at the chef, “I have to ask the manager, but come back at 11:30 tomorrow morning and we’ll see.” 

That night Jim couldn’t sleep so he got up early and walked around the bustling streets, with people rushing to their jobs. The crowds were annoying, but Jim still looked at the interesting city surroundings that were new to him. Jim arrived at the diner and was greeted by a thin man as soon as he opened the door. He noticed the tables around the big restaurant were full of locals and tourists as he glanced around, before shaking the man’s hand. “Hello, Jim, I heard that you wanted a job here at the diner from Chef Louie and it’s true we do need some help. I’m prepared to offer you a job here. You would start immediately.” “Thank you, sir,” was all Jim said and he went back to work. Without turning around the shape of Chef Louie remarked, “You got the job kid?” Jim nodded as he stood next to him and waited for instructions. Over the next few days Louie taught him everything on the menu from eggs to burgers so that one day Jim would cook the menu with ease. One day, after Jim had to make a pot of every soup on the menu, he left the diner and walked into the streets that were bright in the afternoon sun.

After a few minutes he realized he was walking downtown, not uptown to his apartment. Since it was not dark yet, he kept walking, to see where he would go. He entered a street flooded with people walking towards him who just got off the train. Overwhelmed, he rounded a dark alley to get out of the way, and sitting there, was an extremely nice building.  It clearly was a secretive place, but Jim headed in, curious, and saw a sign for a hotel he didn't know. Jim didn’t want to act suspicious, so he went to the bar he noticed in the corner. Jim felt out of place, a young underdressed man in a crowd of well-dressed businessmen. The men looked preoccupied and didn’t notice Jim come in, but the bartender walked over to him. Jim leaned in, “I just found this place and wanted to see what was inside since it seemed secret.” The man nodded and said, “It’s for rich businessmen to stay when they are in New York. Do you want a drink?” Jim thought back to when he had to make drinks at family events. It wasn’t fun, but he learned a lot. “A sidecar please.” The Bartender raised his eyebrow and said quietly, “People your age usually don't have much drink knowledge” Jim told him about how he used to mix drinks for his family. He was genuinely interested and when Jim finished he offered Jim a proposition. “You could help me behind the bar a little if you wanted to learn more like an assistant. The pay wouldn’t be good, but you would have something to do.” Jim nodded in agreement and Charlie said, “I just have to speak to the manager, wait here.” Jim sat down waiting, eating the peanuts that lay on the bar and sipping his cocktail nervously. 

After a while a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and knowing eyes walked up to him. The man looked Jim up and down and winked at him. Then he spoke in a voice that was old and wise in Jim’s ears. “Who are you? Why are you here” and so on, rattling off questions about Jim and his experience with drinks, barely waiting for Jim to answer before he moved on. The man must have seen something in him because he told Charlie, “He’s good.” and walked away. Charlie nodded and said “Well I’ll see you here tomorrow at 6:30…. oh and wear something nice.” Jim nodded as he walked outside and went home, the summer air blowing the whole way. He thought about how quickly he met Charlie and was excited to come back.

The next morning he put on his diner uniform and headed down the cracked stone stairs to the sidewalk. As he walked in the early morning, he thought to himself, “I don’t mind working at the diner, but I am super excited to work with Charlie later today.” Jim’s shift at the diner was quiet and he left work by 4:15 after cleaning and closing. Jim went to his apartment and got into some of his best clothes, which was a blue polo shirt and some gray pants. He walked downtown, to the dark alley. He ducked down the street and walked into the hotel, to see it was much louder than the night before. He walked across the lobby to Charlie to see what to do. They talked in front of the businessmean who didn’t care as long as they got their beer quickly. The bar quickly thinned out of customers which made Jim remember how tired he was after the long day, but he looked forward to coming back the next day. He packed up and walked home, reflecting on how lucky he had been in the last few weeks. That was Jim's day for the following months and he was happy.

One Thursday, his situation changed. He had woken up, headed down to the diner, and was greeted by the manager. “Chef Louie has quit his job unexpectedly and we want you to take over as head chef. You have to report at 6:30 every morning and leave at 8:30 at night, but your salary will be tripled.” Jim thought about the fun nights at the bar. He knew that he was paid basically nothing to work at the hotel, so he couldn’t refuse this offer. He nodded and said, “That is a very generous offer, I’ll take it.” He was annoyed, not at his job, which he endured, but that he couldn’t see Charlie anytime soon. Jim never was that lucky again in life, but he was grateful for that. Being that lucky puts your life in a precarious spot.

This is a semi-true story. Jim is a chef and restaurant owner, not the diner, but an Award-winning restaurant called the Fireplace outside Boston.

This story represents teachers giving little work most days, and all of a sudden they start assigning tons of homework nonstop with no sympathy. Since you were used to having little work, you make plans to hang out with friends after school, but you have to cancel them because of the work you were suddenly assigned. Jim represents the average student who goes to school which is represented by the diner. Since his shift only goes until, 4:15 he decides to get another job at the hotel which represents hanging out with his friends after school, which he looks forward to for the whole day. When Chef Louie doesn’t come to work and quits, Jim has to take over for the breakfast, lunch and dinner shift, which is like the teachers assigning work unexpectedly, and just like how Jim will have to stay working for a longer time, the bigger workload never stops. He is forced to quit his job at the hotel because he couldn’t get there on time. This is similar to having to cancel your plans with your friends because you couldn’t show up. In the eyes of the students, it seems the teachers coordinate their plan to assign tons of work on the same day, which is irritating to the students.

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The Flower Bed

Darian G.

On a pleasant, bright spring day, seeds were about to become stems and stems were almost ready to become flowers. Each day, the stems grow a little more, with a thin leaf growing towards the sky. In a local city playground, a little green sprout stretches its arms through the crumbly, lumpy soil. Another stem makes its way out of the dirt. One future tulip after another reaching its way into this world. Time passed and there were around twenty buds almost ready to change into graceful flowers within a month or so. This was the start of a lovely flower bed.  

As the stems grew more each day, one stem was distinct, different from the rest. This stem thought she was the best of the best, above and beyond. She felt she was gold in the middle of the ocean. She gloated to each and every stem every single day saying that she was the finest. She did have something that none of the stems did, height. She was slightly taller. This stem was growing somewhat faster than the rest and found this to be something mind-blowing. The tall stem thought to herself, “I am more beautiful than the others and I always will be.”

Every day after this consisted of the same thing. The taller stem continued to boast about her “beauty”. 

“You will never be as elegant and delightful as I am”, the stem exclaimed.  

Every day, the other stems felt ashamed of themselves. They all wished that they looked like her. The stems felt less and less about themselves every day. They wanted to be tall, they wanted to feel that they were flawless like her. But it was hard, because they were only being told that they weren’t worthy. The others were hopeless, they came to think they would never be like her. 

Two weeks passed and the tall stem started to grow her first petal and made sure the other stems knew her success. They were nothing but jealous, they weren’t excited because they just remained as a little stem, they didn’t feel “special”, yet. 

One stem noticed that all of the others grew an inch and they were speechless. They had hope that maybe just maybe, they will grow to be like the “special stem”. 

Day after day went on. The sun rose and set and the sun bounced onto the growing flower patch more each day. Loud voices of children started to enter the playground. Other flowers started to bloom. It is now late April. 

Meanwhile, in the flower garden, the taller stem was no longer a stem. She was, in fact, a tulip now and had grown all six of her petals. The others were only stems. They felt like less of a flower. They felt empty and not full in bloom as the full-bloomed flower, who just sneered at them. 

“Look at the pretty flower!” said a kid at the playground. 

“Yes indeed”, his mom replied

“What about the other stems, why aren’t they pretty flowers?” asked the kid. 

“Don’t worry, they will all turn into magnificent flowers just like that one, before you know it!” the mom informed. 

The rest of the stems heard this loud and clear. Their hopelessness faded and turned into hope. They thought to not worry because they are going to grow and become flowers. It is just a matter of time. Instead of wasting their time worrying about not becoming flowers, they realized that they should be excited, looking forward to that time. So, the nineteen (soon to be) flowers spent the rest of their time as stems enjoying themselves and growing some buds little by little. The tulip, however, wasn't thrilled about their confidence at all since nobody wanted to be like her anymore. She started to feel less now. 

While baking in the sun, the stem’s buds began bursting with color. Petals slowly stretched looked more like the flower they once longed to be. One petal after another popped onto each stem. They were beautiful and full bloomed. The tulips didn’t know until they saw a huge crowd of people from the playground acknowledging not only the first tulip to bloom but also all the stems in the flower bed. 

“Wow, all the flowers have bloomed!”

“Now it is a complete flower bed!”

“Look at all the colors!”

“How pretty!”

They heard the voices of the people from the playground and were honored. This was the happiest day of the stems’ life!  All twenty of the flowers can now stand tall, reaching for the sky. The nineteen other tulips finally felt accepted, worthy, enough for this world. The tulips thought they finally had purpose as a flower, to be admired and complimented by others. Their time to shine had finally awakened. 

On the other hand, the first tulip to bloom looked worse than ever. Its robust colors were beginning to fade. It began to curl, droop, and wrinkle. The petals started to wither until there were no more. Soon enough, the wilting tulip wasn’t even able to stand up anymore. She had lost all of her attention, her looks, and most of her ability to live. As she sobbed in awareness, she knew it was too late. Her time as a flower was done. 

Hard footsteps running by came with a crunch of the step. The petals of the vain tulip got stomped with its petals juicing into the concrete.  The other flowers stood with glory.  They thought she got what she deserved for putting them down. 

The remaining nineteen tulips continued to get compliments from the people at the playground. Their beauty and most importantly, kindness to one another also continued and because of this, they were able to last happy and healthy all spring. 

This allegory is meant to show the true meaning of beauty in the world. The first flower to bloom considered herself to be the most beautiful flower. She bragged every single day to the stems who were not as visually “beautiful.”She was mean and criticized them for their looks, which were going to change, eventually. This flower was beautiful on the outside but was lacking beauty on the inside. On the other hand, the nineteen other stems at first lacked beauty on the outside since they hadn’t fully grown yet. They felt discouraged and put down. They wished they were like the prettier flower because of her looks. When they bloomed, they were beautiful on both the inside and outside. Since the others were kind to one another, they lasted and got attention all spring. The mean flower did not, however (since she bloomed early, she died of old age and then got stepped on). This could be the result of karma. In order to be beautiful, you have to be beautiful on both the inside and the outside.

My allegory symbolizes our society and different types of people. The first flower to bloom symbolizes someone who is narcissistic and is mean to others. She also represents someone who people (symbolizes the other nineteen flowers) wish to be on social media only because of her looks. This type of person lowers your confidence. The flower bed itself can be a metaphor to many things including social media platforms, or can even be a school stereotype (where everybody wants to look like the popular people). I thought that a flower bed setting would be perfect because flowers grow at different paces and all flowers are beautiful.  

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After the Rain Comes a Rainbow

Michelle H

In an unusual world, people are defined by flavor choices. It is an instrumental part of identity, and just like in our world, majority rules. In this world, the hierarchy places those who favor sweet flavors on top. While equality is mainstream in the youth, prejudice corrupts the crevices of sweetness society, leaving salty and sour supporters hiding in the shadows. This story follows the trials of a woman who favors the sour. While you may not care about her story, you will soon come to realize the bigger problems, some of them plaguing your own society. 

Rainbow was on her way to the first day of seventh grade. She wore her new school uniform and carried a small tin lunch box, which contained sour pickles, drenched in briney goodness. However, this was no ordinary first day; this was the first day she had the courage to bring a sour lunch. She joined a large crowd of girls that look just like her. You can tell these were the Heathers, the Plastics, the popular kids with rich parents and Covergirl hair. Rainbow fit in with them, and they all giggled together. She was one of them. 

At lunch, they gossiped and whined. Tin boxes opened with the clicking of nail extensions, revealing sweet nutritional smoothies. Rainbow opened her lunchbox and revealed her pickles. A silence fell over her friends as they looked at her lunch, and whispers bounced around. Did anyone anticipate this? Did anyone realize? Rainbow was confused too. She was raised to always treat everyone  as equal, and her parents were salt lovers. Therefore, she had always thought that all flavors were equal and that no one really minded. She was confused by their surprise. The silence was deafening. Then, a bully named Edward Bridgum lashed out. 

“Hey, it’s a salty weirdo! Why aren’t you eating sweets like the rest of us?” This phrase was a spark in the fire, and soon the fire spread. Everyone jeered at Rainbow, calling her an aberration and an alien. Some bullied her with sincerity, others because of peer pressure. The only ones who didn’t taunt Rainbow were her friends, but she didn’t know what to do. The shouting and screaming reached a crescendo, and Rainbow fled. Dashing past teachers, she went to the bathroom, and climbed out an open window into the great beyond. 

She kept running into the wide forestry around town, until she realized the gravity of her decisions. If she went deeper into the forest, she might encounter a hungry wolf, and she did not want to be killed. The only choice was to turn back, and face the consequences of running. She whipped her head around and started walking, expecting the sounds of suburbia and the view of buildings to grow closer, but it never did. Rainbow kept turning, but could not find her way out. Panic set in, and she started walking in random directions, hoping to get closer to her home. That was when she stepped backwards and fell through a hole. She tumbled down a tunnel until she was spit out onto the ground from a hole carved into a mountain side. 

“Ow!” She brushed foliage off her school uniform and got up. Looking around, she saw a cluster of strange buildings made of stone. It looked like an ordinary town, so Rainbow ventured further to see if anyone could get her home. She noticed that there were gardens next to every house, adorned with green. Rainbow looked at the plants carefully and realized none of the plants could be used for sweet meals. Everything was either salty or sour. This was too good to be true. Rainbow ran around the whole town, peeking in every garden and being kind of creepy since she was romping in everyone’s backyards, but she didn’t care. She found acceptance! She filled with joy, just as someone approached her. He looked like the old wise man from childhood fables. “Excuse me, are you new to these parts?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

The old man looked at her critically, as if sizing her up for a fight. “Are you a lover of sweets?” 

“I prefer sours.” Rainbow was relieved to see that no one seemed to have negative emotions about her preferences, further proving the friendliness of the town. 

“Are you interested in learning combat? You must live here to learn, of course, but you’ll discover the confidence to defend yourself and your beliefs in the outside world.” The old guy smiled, and Rainbow didn’t have to think about it. Of course, she wanted to stay in this beautiful town where no one would hurt her. She would be leaving her family and friends behind, but these people supported her in a way no one had before. She could live far from discrimination, and that was all all she needed. Rainbow looked the guy straight in the eyes. 

“Yes.”

TEN YEARS LATER

Edward examined his seventh grade class photo. The girl he had bullied was not in it, because she had run after the first day at lunch. He started that mob that chanted her away, and he didn’t regret it. She had it coming, being a sour. He stared out the window as the stench of rotting bodies strengthened in the corner. He had killed people who didn’t like sweets, because chasing one out of town wasn’t enough. People called him the Macgyver murderer for his deeds, because he killed using his victim’s tools. No one could catch him. 

Rainbow had returned to her hometown for the second time. The first time, she had brought her parents to the stone house community, and assured them she was not dead. They had all started new lives there. This second visit was for reconciliation. Moving from house to house, with the names she had found on the internet, she had offered her forgiveness for the incident. Not one person recognized her at first, but soon remembered and were brought to tears at the memory of that fateful day. All of them apologized for their actions, and were grateful for Rainbow’s mercy. There was only one house left, and when Rainbow saw it, she almost didn’t want to go. It was dilapidated and old, and it smelled faintly of corpses. She swallowed her fear, and knocked on the door. Edward’s old gaunt face stared down at her. “What do you want?” 

“I’m forgiving you. You probably don’t recognize me but-” Edward waved her off. 

“I recognized you, and I’m not apologizing. You’re a sour-lover! You’re nothing to me.” 

Rainbow was taken aback. “But-”

“Look, I’m not apologizing. Now go away.” Rainbow was in disbelief. “What- no! I’m not leaving until my honor and your reputation are repaired.” 

Edward sputtered, “Ho-h-honor? Your honor can die for all I care!”

With a magnificent effort, Edward shoved Rainbow to the ground and tried to attack her. Rainbow couldn’t get up, but she could fight. Whipping out a knife, she hurled it, where it stuck in the wall with a thunk. Edward jumped up, startled, and Rainbow ripped her knife free. Giving Edward a death glare, she left. 

Two weeks later, Rainbow was eating breakfast one day with her parents. Her father opened a newspaper. “Well, it seems here the Macgyver murderer has been killed. Good for us!”

Rainbow was confused. “Who’s the Macgyver murderer?”

Rainbow’s mom interjected. “Oh, he killed people who didn’t like sweets. Used random stuff in his victims’ house to kill. The police aren’t exactly too angry about his death. They’re not going to investigate the murder. Glad we can sleep at night.” 

Rainbow asked, “What’s his real name?” Rainbow’s father leaned in closer to the paper and squinted. 

“Seems to be Edward Bridgum. Hey, isn’t that the kid who pushed you two weeks ago?” 

“Yes.” Her father kept reading the paper. “Looks like someone decided to make him pay. The strangest thing..”

Rainbow smiled. “Yeah, dad. The strangest thing.”

THE END

This story is an allegory for the abuse and fear LGBTQ+ members face from their peers when they come out. Rainbow in the story represents the LGBTQ+ person coming out and facing bullying from peers. The stone house community represents the friendly LGBTQ+ community that provides support to the new person who has openly joined their community, and the skills of combat they teach Rainbow represent the confidence supportive people provide, which allows Rainbow to vanquish her haters in the end. The flavors represent various sexualities, and Edward represents those who are prejudiced and cannot change, and will always prejudice against those who are different. 

I chose to write about this issue because I was reading statistics one day, and I read how those who are out are more likely to feel happy than their closeted counterparts. This story brings attention to an issue that attacks a person’s identity, so our society will learn to openly accept the LBGTQ+.

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Gone Too Soon

Keira K.

Our story starts in a peaceful community of flowers of all kinds, where all garden plants are welcome. This small community of flowers rests in the shade behind the small house of a woman, a man, and a small child. The humans who live in the house, especially the woman, are praised for how they created the community and planted many of the seeds that grew into many beautiful flowers. The woman cares for the soil, while the man waters the flowers once a week if it does not rain. 

But this story is not about the humans or the peacefulness of the flower garden community, but about one young flower, not even fully blossomed, whose name is Rose. Rose has many sisters, but she is the most beautiful of them all. She has three very good friends, Lilac, Violet, and Daisy. Rose has the highest grade in her class, is kind, and helps tutor others. While some flowers in the garden community are jealous of her and how seemingly perfect she is, it doesn’t phase her. Rose simply keeps her petals up high. 

On one particular evening, when all the flowers are either settling in their pot or in their place in the soil for tonight, Rose decides to take a walk around the garden community. She walks toward the human house and quietly thanks the humans living there for all they have done for the community over the past few years. As Rose continues walking along the side of the house, she notices an open window and hears some noises coming from inside. She walks up to a nearby bush and asks for assistance in getting onto the window ledge. After the bush has agreed and helped her, Rose looks into the kitchen, curious as to what the woman is doing so late in the evening, when the garden community usually goes to sleep. 

The woman is at the kitchen counter with different bags, bottles, bowls, whisks, and measuring cups. In her humanology class in the garden, Rose has learned that humans must cook and bake their food. She found it strange, because the food for a flower is made inside of his or herself with just some sunlight. As Rose continued to watch the woman measure her ingredients, she gasped. She noticed one particular ingredient that all flowers knew meant death, if given enough of it. Vinegar. 

Rose frantically glanced around the kitchen, making sure there weren’t any flowers the woman was about to kill. But what she did with the vinegar completely shocked Rose. She poured it into her bowl with all the other ingredients. “I thought vinegar was deadly,” thought Rose to herself. She continued to watch the woman, though she knew it would soon be time for sleep. The woman poured her batter into a pan and put it in the oven. Rose stood there, staring at the vinegar for about fifteen minutes before the woman came back and took her cake out of the oven. She tried a piece and smiled. She put her cake in the freezer and walked away. 

Rose carefully walked into the kitchen, making sure her roots weren’t making any noise so as to not draw attention. She stopped right in front of the vinegar, and started to remember another humanology lesson. Humans can eat vinegar in their desserts, because it brings out flavor. Flowers, however, will die from vinegar if they were given enough of it. It sticks to their petals and stays there for a week until they wither. Rose shivered at the thought. She almost walked away when she remembered the look of pure happiness on the woman’s face after eating the cake. Then, Rose thought to herself, “Maybe only a little vinegar will be fine. Surely, a tiny drop won’t kill me.” Rose used one of her thorns and poked a small hole in the side of the vinegar bottle. She let it drip for a moment, hesitating before letting one of the drops fall onto her petals. It was delicious! Rose decided to take one more drop of it before leaving when she realized, “why don’t I share this with my friends?” She said to herself. Over in the corner of the kitchen counter there was a small paper cup. Rose walked over, took the cup, and filled it with vinegar. She put one more drop of it on her petals, and carried the cup to her place in the soil with all of her sisters.

The next morning, there was no school. Rose woke up and quickly grabbed her cup and started running to her friend Violet’s pot. “Violet!” Rose exclaimed out of breath. She had run across the entire garden community. Violet, just waking up, had her petals wrinkled and droopy. But Rose continued talking. “Yesterday, I watched the human woman use vinegar in her cake. She tried it, and smiled so wide! So I went into their house and tried a few drops of vinegar, and—“ 

“You tried vinegar?!” Violet interrupted. “Why would you do that? You could’ve died!” 

“But I didn’t die, I put many drops of it on my petals and I didn’t die! And vinegar is delicious! Try some!” Rose held up the cup full of vinegar to her friend, who slowly backed away from it. To prove it was safe, Rose put three drops on her petals. Passerby flowers gasped when they saw her. Violet put a drop on her leaf, and very carefully put it in her petals. It was delicious! Rose, noticing the observing flowers nearby, held out the cup to them. “Vinegar is safe! Just don’t take too much!” She shouted, letting other curious flowers take a few drops each. However, there were only one or two fully blossomed flowers who took vinegar. Really, there were only partially bloomed flowers who seemed excited. Rose, however, rejected the thought and kept letting others take some more vinegar. 

All the adult flowers in the garden community warned the other flowers to stop drinking vinegar. Nobody listened. Instead, every night, Rose would sneak into the kitchen and get more vinegar. After about a week and a half of this, many flowers had lost their petals and started to grow sick and weak. Many even died. The first to do so was Rose. Once beautiful and smart with many friends, she became lonely, disgusting, and oblivious in her last few days…

This story symbolizes young people vaping and smoking. The flowers represent people, and vinegar represents vape and cigarettes, and the house represents a vape and cigarette store. The humans eating a cake with vinegar in it represents a sort of advertisement for vape, tricking teenagers into thinking that it can’t be that bad for you. What happens to Rose at the end, when she becomes sick and then dies, is what actually happens to people of all ages who do drugs, smoke, and vape.

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Big Dreams

Elizabeth N.

When the littlest of the little blue men came into being, the first thing his little eyes saw was the roof of a cardboard box. The box was very peculiar indeed, mostly because he was inside it. There was no getting out of it, or out of that horrid smell his little nose first smelled. Smell? What smell? Well, the smell of wrongness, of course. The smell of rotten lemon peel and moldering egg and acrid milk; this is what comes closest to the pungent odor of wrongness. So let’s name the littlest of the little blue men “Big,” because he, as soon as he gained his little senses, wanted more than anything to be big enough not to fit in the wretched cardboard box. But Big was still little no matter how much he prayed. And Big was certainly still blue. Blue like the little blue men around him, who groaned and moaned instead of doing the things they ought to do; the little blue men lived in a dismal society where they were assigned their own little spot in the little box, and they were never allowed to move from that patch of cardboard. They starved and starved and starved some more, only eating the occasional fly which would land on the very tip of their pointed blue nose. But it was never enough. Never enough to put even the most meager of smiles on their blue faces. Nevertheless, the little blue men refused to move from their cardboard spots. Though their blue arms grew frail and thin and their jaws gaping and salivating, their feet trembling and eventually failing them, the blue men would never move. Two little blue men named “Rules” and “Reality” had once taught Big the art of this lethargic behavior. “Standing in your little spot in this little box is the best thing for you,” Rules had griped, “Because that is what all the other little blue men do.” “And,” Reality had added, “You will never be anything other than a little blue man, so do not tell yourself you can be anything different.” But Big was different. The other little blue men slouched and sagged and became ravenous, while Big, with his luminous, lemon eyes loved to sing and dance and smile. “But you cannot sing or dance or smile,” Rules  had affirmed. “Because that is not what little blue men do.” But then Hope had come along, with his slumped little blue man self, saying, “I know what you want. I know what you have craved. And you can obtain it.” When Big had looked at him, questioning, Hope had grinned. And in that grin he told a story different from the stories Rules and Reality had told.  “You can put the whole world in those little blue palms of yours. You can hold this box and the expanse outside, if only you will take my advice. In the corner of this little cardboard box is a ragged little hole no little blue man has ever known about, mostly because no little blue man ever wanted to know about it. If you should feel ready for the vast infinity which lays behind the nanoscopic tear, all you must do is look through this hole. Sometimes, the greatest discoveries can be invoked by the most modest of movements.” And ever since that day, Big remembered what Hope had told him. Big did indeed see the hole Hope had so earnestly described. It had earlier been hidden from him by whispering shadows; shadows which whispered of pain, weakness, and procrastination. The pain of having begun to exist somewhere Big didn’t belong, the weakness that came from the other little blue men Big had begun to feel within himself, and the procrastination that had stopped Big from doing something about it. But now the shadows no longer urged Big’s eyes to slide heedlessly over the crater that now sung to him, and Big had wondered relentlessly about what he might witness if he just looked through that hole. So Big eventually resolved to do it. One night (when all of the other little blue men were sleeping), Big crept to the tiny hole, and for once in his life ,feeling big, he put his eyes to the gaping space which resided there. And he didn’t know where to start looking. At first, all he could see was nothingness. He stared frantically into the abyss that yielded  no wisdom, until he saw them. Chasing a beautiful, luminous magenta butterfly were three little pink girls singing, dancing, and smiling, and their smiles seemed to be plucked from his very countenance. As their little feet slid across the hungry darkness, they swiped at the darting butterfly, and finally managed to get it, to get it like no little blue man had ever got anything. They were strong in their little movements. And as they parted their cupped hands, the light of the magenta butterfly had reflected on their faces to and fro, the light freer than any captive object, word, or idea. Big’s little blue heart began to hammer. He truly felt as if the cardboard box (and everything inside it) had been turned upside down. He had won. No, all of the little blue men had won. And then the little pink girls saw him. In their radiant gazes they rescued him, and as they pranced away merrily, beckoning him to join their beautiful little games, Big became determined. Big did not want to lose them in the nothingness from which they came, and so he began to tear open the hole with a strength which made his little arms ache until the nothing came to get him. As Big watched the little pink girls dissipate into the victorious gloom, the nothing swallowed him whole. The little blue men had been watching Big for quite some time now. They had seen him when he first appeared in their little box and they had watched him grow. Except he never grew. He always sang, like the infants did before they were broken by starvation, and he always smiled. Somewhere deep down, the little blue men knew they were just like him. All they had wanted to do was to sing, dance, and smile. Though they had dreamed of different smiles and different dances and different songs, they had still been as close to happiness as Big had been… before they broke him, too. The little blue men had grown pessimistic with age, and Big’s singing had wormed itself into their frail ears in a way that had annoyed them to their cores. Or, perhaps, it was that he had something they never  could have obtained. Nevertheless, his uniqueness could not be permitted in their little blue society. The little blue men were afraid of uniqueness, as one is always afraid of things they cannot understand. So, that fateful evening when they had been awakened by Big’s uncontrolled tearing at the cardboard box, they had struck him from behind. And now Big would never remember the little pink girls he had seen, or the strength he had experienced, or the songs he had sung. He would be plagued by the hunger the other little blue men had experienced, instead. The little blue men had decided to remake Big by chaining him to the spot they had assigned long ago. They chained him with the shadows that had once hidden the hole in the cardboard box, and these chains had now hidden Big from the little pink girls and the vast world from which they came, and most importantly, from himself. Hope had long ago perished from famine, and so Big lived this way for the rest of his days, feeble and hungry, not caring about who he had been or what he was going to be. Because he wasn’t going to be anything. And that was the way Big liked it. 

This story is a microcosm of the peer pressure concerning the social norm to act/stay your gender, and it also envelops the expectations set for any gender and the injustice in said expectations. For instance, the “cardboard box” the characters are trapped within symbolizes the gender one is born into, and the reason this box is built from “cardboard” is cardboard is a flimsy material, and this symbolizes just how nonsensical and unfair the distinct “rules” set for certain genders may be. In addition, the main character (Big) represents the transgender mindset one is trapped within the opposite gender’s body. The other “little blue men” symbolize the pressure put upon this group of people, and also the hypocrisy of most transphobes who believe the expectations set for their own gender are unjust. Plus, the girls Big saw stand for the lure of the opposite gender. All in all, the ending of this allegory demonstrates how people (not only transgenders but also people who generally do not conform to gender expectations) will often be pressured into hiding their true selves. The conflict is man versus society, and the implied theme is one should be able to let their true personality shine without being repressed; humans should be able to explore their opportunities (symbolized by the magenta butterfly and by the vast space laying on the other side of the hole in the box).

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awaiting submission dp/b

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Divided

Elizabeth R.

Summer trotted down the street. She was on high alert. It wasn’t every day she wandered through the ghetto. Perhaps not the ghetto but it definitely wasn’t her neighborhood. Summer lived in an only Shih Tzu community, but now she was in strictly Great Dane territory now. Summer knew that her overly protective family would be terrified if they knew that Summer was there. Summer had been forbidden to interact with any breed other than Shih Tzu.

Summer was on her way to her friend, Sophie’s house when she got lost. It wasn’t the first time. She was a rather forgetful person. It was, however, the first time that she went so far that she left her community.  

As she stood on the curb and tried to retrace her steps in her mind, a group of menacing Great Danes stalked up to her. “What do we have here?” the biggest one asked, clearly amused by the sight of a tiny little Shih Tzu in his streets. He had black fur and mean eyes. 

“Are you lost, little girl?” his friend mocked.

Summer squirmed. She wanted to say something confident and cool to show them that she wasn’t scared. Except, she was. She was terrified. Great Danes were brutes, according to her parents. So she figured that if she didn’t say anything, there was a lesser chance that she would die. 

“Are you mute or something?” one of them taunted.One of them nodded to the pink bow on Summer’s head. “That bow of yours looks awfully expensive. Mind if I see it for a moment?” the one with the mean eyes asked.“Wait, I thought you were going to steal it,” one in the back said. Everyone rolled their eyes. 

They all crept closer to Summer.  She understood why they wanted to take it. It was made of silk, and had a gold clasp. She found herself frozen in place. Her mind screamed at her legs to move, but she couldn’t. Just as they were about to snatch the bow off Summer’s head, a deep voice cut through the air. “Beat it, Tank,” another Great Dane said from behind him. 

‘Tank’ snapped his head around and saw the other dog behind him. He looked annoyed. “Whatever,” Tank said. He and his friends walked off. “ I didn’t need your help,”  Summer said after a moment. The mysterious Great Dane scoffed. “You were about to get robbed.”

“You’re exaggerating.” “Really? You guys were just having a tea party then?” Summer rolled her eyes.

“I apologize for interrupting,” he said. “I’ll just call them back.”  He turned to shout in the direction that the bullies had left. “No!” Summer exclaimed. He smirked. “The name’s Jacob.”

“The name’s Summer,” Summer mocked. Jacob ignored her. “So what’s dainty little Shih Tzu like you doing in a place like this?” “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just call me dainty. I got lost.”

Jacob stifled a laugh. “Allow me to escort you back to your pretty pink castle.” He started to walk down the street. Summer didn’t want to prove Jacob right in that she was a damsel in distress, but she also didn’t know her way home, and didn’t want to get into even more trouble. Reluctantly, she followed after him. 

They walked in silence. After a few moments, Summer spoke, “I don’t think I thanked you for what you did.” “You didn’t.” “Oh. Well, thank you.” “You’re welcome.”

As they walked, they continued their “playful banter”. The conservation went like this: every few minutes, one of them says something naive or dumb, the other says something sarcastic in response, and they both roll their eyes and laugh. 

Summer found herself, oddly enough, enjoying his presence, as annoying as he was. Summer hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going, for she was following Jacob the entire way. So naturally, when she found herself standing right outside her house with a Great Dane, she was quite alarmed. 

“And that’s why I think that Danny Devito should be our next president.” Jacob noticed her eyes go wide. “What is it?” “You need to go.” “What? Why?” he asked, confused. “You can’t be here. We can’t be seen together.” “Why? Because we’re different?”

Summer tried to push him, but she soon realized that he was pretty much a building. Panic rose in her body as she saw her parents walk out the house. She immediately backed several paces away from Jacob. Jacob followed her line of sight to the two little dogs standing in the doorway of Summer’s house, looking disgusted. “Summer, what are you doing with this brute?”

Jacob opened his mouth to defend himself, but Summer shot him a warning look; she didn’t want things to become any worse than they already were. She knew that by crossing to her parent’s side, she was abandoning him, but her neighbors had started to gather on the street, and all of the pressure that she was facing, got to her. She walked over to her parents, leaving Jacob standing alone on the pavement. 

He met her eyes. Jacob was hard to read, but she swore she could see a flash of hurt on his face. He lingered for a moment, just looking at her. He glanced away and started walking, the eyes of everyone on the street following him.  

Summer’s parents turned to her. Her dad spoke first. “Summer. We’re very disappointed in you. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You know what Great Danes are capable of.” “They’re monsters!” her mother added. 

It took everything in Summer not to tell them that they were wrong, that Jacob was different. But she knew that it would only cause problems. She nodded, apologized, and walked up to her room. 

She looked out the window, and saw Jacob still  walking dejectedly. She knew they weren’t that close. They’d only met an hour and a half ago,but she liked Jacob. She knew that if the world they lived in wasn’t as prejudiced and broken up as it was, her and Jacob could’ve been really close. But it was. And there was nothing Summer 

The allegory I wrote represents the everlasting social and physical segregation in society. Though the allegory may seem hyperbolic in ways, it isn't that far off from how some people act.  I used different dog breeds to represent people of different races. This allegory also accurately depicts how many people feel about interracial relationships.

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 Beyond Our Differences

Tara W.

Once, there was an aquarium much like the one in Finding Nemo. It was filled with many unique creatures; one of whom was Mantis-Shrimp. He was always eager to learn. One day, as he skipped out of his underwater home, he noticed the rest of the fish had gathered around the center of the tank. Being a curious young thing, Mantis-Shrimp decided to go and investigate. But as he scuttled closer to his friends, he realized they were arguing. Concerned, he approached one of the fish.

“What's wrong?” he asked Butterfly-Fish. “They’re calling me manipulative,” he sighed exasperatedly. “All because of my fake eye.” He waved his caudal fin at Mantis-Shrimp, showing his eye-shaped spot. “You understand I’m no trickster,” Butterfly-Fish presumed.

“Well, of course!” Mantis-Shrimp responded. “At least I’m not really evil.” “Who’s evil?” Mantis-Shrimp asked. 

“Betta.” Butterfly-Fish pointed across the angry circle of fish. “How so?” Mantis-Shrimp wondered. “He’s a cannibal.” “He hasn’t been mean to me…” Mantis-Shrimp said doubtfully. 

“That’s because you aren’t threatening him.” Butterfly-Fish gave the youngster a serious look. “If you do, he’ll kill you.” Mantis-Shrimp left Butterfly-Fish, heading towards Betta. He figured he would have to see for himself.

He cautiously approached Betta.  “Hello,” he said.  “You don’t think I’m a brute, do you?” Betta asked. Mantis-Shrimp looked up at him.  “No, I don’t suppose so.” Mantis-Shrimp hesitated before adding, “But some fish do say, when you get mad…” “Well, ‘some fish’ have got me all wrong!” Betta cried. He calmed himself before continuing, “I don’t kill other fish. But with other bettas, it’s different. Bettas are easily angered; it’s in our blood. And once you get into a fight, you can’t just stop.” Betta looked across the aquarium. 

“I understand,” Mantis-Shrimp said.  “But you see him?” “Who, Pufferfish?” Mantis-Shrimp looked across to the large, paranoid fish. “He’s a coward, no less.” Betta gave an indignant ‘harrumph’. “At least I’ve got guts.” “I suppose so,” Mantis-Shrimp replied, and scurried across the tank once more.

“Hello, Pufferfish,” he said gently. Startled, Pufferfish inflated and his spikes popped out. Mantis-Shrimp jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding a prick. He caught a glimpse of Betta smirking. “Oh, my,” Pufferfish apologized. “I’m sorry; I’ve just been so flustered.” "That’s alright,” Mantis-Shrimp responded, getting up as Pufferfish began to deflate a bit. “What's wrong?”

“Everyone’s been so terrible,” Pufferfish sighed. “Calling me a wimp and all.” "That does sound terrible,” Mantis-Shrimp sympathized. “You know I don’t mean to blow up, right?” Pufferfish asked. He had deflated a bit more. “Of course I do,” Mantis-Shrimp replied. “Everyone’s allowed to be afraid sometimes.” “Worst of all are the Guppies,” Pufferfish said, not really listening. He stared across at the group of colorful, slim fish. 

“How so?” Mantis-Shrimp pursued. He had always found the siblings more amusing than annoying. “They taunt me the most,” he answered, “but they are the ones who would understand the least.” "That does seem closed-minded,” Mantis-Shrimp said. “They’re a school! I’m all on my own.” “You’ve got me,” Mantis-Shrimp said sweetly.

“They’ve got all five of each other.” Pufferfish was still not paying attention to Mantis-Shrimp, whose pride was a bit dented by his blatant remark. “Well, I hope you feel better,” Mantis-Shrimp told him, and shuffled towards the Guppies.

“Oh, Mantis-Shrimp,” the Guppies chorused upon seeing him. “Hello,” Mantis-Shrimp said. “What’s wrong?” “Everyone is jealous of...well, of us,” one Guppy said. “They don’t know how difficult it is to be together all the time!” another chimed in. “We hardly ever get along,” a third Guppy claimed. “But we have to stick together!” the fourth added. “Because we’re guppies,” the fifth one sighed. All five Guppies groaned.

“Can’t you just...go elsewhere?” Mantis-Shrimp offered. “Without each other?” one of the Guppies cried, shocked. “Never!” the second one declared. “That would make us lonely, and weak,” the third put in. “We’d hardly be guppies at all,” the fourth despaired. “But you understand, don’t you, Mantis-Shrimp?” the fifth asked. All five Guppies perked up a little.

“I guess,” Mantis-Shrimp lied. “Oh, how I’d love to be another fish!” the first gushed.

“Like Butterfly-Fish, or Betta!” the second chirped. “Maybe Pufferfish,” the third said. “Or even you!” the fourth exclaimed. Mantis-Shrimp was slightly offended by the way she had phrased her statement, but said nothing. “But not Goldfish,” the fifth scoffed. All five Guppies murmured their agreements.

“How come?” Mantis-Shrimp asked.  “Don’t get me started!” the first Guppy giggled. “She’s so...basic!” the second one smirked. “And we’re so flashy!” the third marveled.  “Everyone gets goldfish for pets,” the fourth said, rolling her eyes. “But we’re rare. It’s one of the best things about being us!” the fifth said, and all five Guppies nodded confidently. “If you say so,” Mantis-Shrimp said, and strutted away to Goldfish.

“Hello, Mantis-Shrimp,” Goldfish sighed. “What's wrong?” Mantis-Shrimp asked. “You know,” Goldfish replied. “Everyone thinks I’m average. They’re not wrong, anyway.” “Well,” Mantis-Shrimp said. “I’ve been talking to everyone else, and you’re the only one who accepted your flaws. I don’t think you’re standard. You’re a good friend, which is rare.”

“Oh, Mantis-Shrimp,” Goldfish said, smiling a little. “You’re so naive. But I’m old; I was the first here. The place has changed.” “You mean the scenery?” Mantis-Shrimp queried, looking around the tank. Goldfish let out a soft laugh. “No, I meant the way everyone is.” “I don’t understand.” “You will soon enough,” Goldfish remorsed. “But I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah…” Mantis-Shrimp said, still baffled. Goldfish sighed again. “If only everyone would get along…”

Suddenly, Mantis-Shrimp had a realization. “I need to tell everybody something.” Mantis-Shrimp looked up, newfound confidence in his heart. “Well, let’s hear it,” Goldfish said, gesturing to the center of the circle. Mantis-Shrimp took a deep breath and scampered into the middle of the tank. All ruckus quieted as everyone’s eyes turned to him.

“I have talked to everyone today,” he began. “Everyone here feels attacked, only to attack another. But I have a solution.” “We just need to accept that we’re all different. Everyone here has their quirks, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing! In the end, we’re all still animals. We live in the same tank. We may have differences, but we also have similarities. And if, instead of judging each other, we all got to know each other better, we wouldn’t argue with each other anymore!”

There was hesitation in the air. Mantis-Shrimp waited in anticipation.  Then, Betta’s voice: “What’re you getting at? You think I’m strange?” “What do you mean?” Mantis-Shrimp asked, taken aback. “Guys, let’s not get too excited here,” Butterfly-Fish swam forward. “Mantis-Shrimp is just too little to know what he’s talking about. He’s still a kid! Let’s not beat him up over this, okay?” “But--I do know! If we put aside our differences--”

“We can all be friends?” Butterfly-Fish’s consoling face hardened in a moment. “Yes, yes,” Betta snorted. “We’ll all hold fins and sing Kumbaya.” “He called us weird!” the Guppies screeched, clutching their chests in horror. “What do you know? You’re not even a fish!”

“Wait--” Mantis-Shrimp faltered. “What makes you think you know what’s best?” Betta growled. “I know you don’t really think that,” Butterfly-Fish said. He turned to Mantis-Shrimp with a fake smile. “Isn’t that right?”

Mantis-Shrimp was speechless. "That’s what I thought,” Butterfly-Fish hissed. He turned and darted away. “You know what I think?” Mantis-Shrimp stepped back to see Betta’s looming figure. “I think you’re sticking your eyestalks where they don’t belong.” He too, swam away, in the opposite direction. 

Tinkling laughter came from behind Mantis-Shrimp. “It’s so funny that you thought you could solve our problems!” the Guppies jeered, shoving past him. “I thought you were alright, Mantis-Shrimp,” Pufferfish said as he swam off. “I was wrong.” Mantis-Shrimp was left face to face with Goldfish.

“Go home,” Goldfish said sorrowfully. She disappeared into the corner of the tank. Mantis-Shrimp stood for a moment, crestfallen, in the center of the aquarium before silently returning home.

This allegory is about creatures with different personalities. It centers around a curious and innocent Mantis-Shrimp, who eventually comes up with a resolution to the fighting between his fellows, only to be shot down. The story represents the constant disputes between people who are different from each other. People tend to judge others based on the tiniest differences or quirks. This can happen on small scales, like teasing, or it can be serious, like racism or sexism. Each of the fish represents a different type of person that could be affected by such prejudice. I chose a mantis shrimp specifically for the main role because they can see more colors than humans can, symbolizing how Mantis-Shrimp was able to see beyond the differences in all his fellow fish. I also wanted to portray that people become what their environment reflects; so what was once a cheerful and eager being became a melancholy one, because he was surrounded by such prejudiced fish.

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A Different Workforce

Tommy Y.

It was the year 2030, and the Earth was in a deep stage of intergalactic advancement. Rockets and satellites were flung into orbit 24/7, each consecutive time with newer and more advanced circuitry than before. However, this rapid technological expansion required more and more resources. The workforces on Earth began to dwindle as big-name companies needed more funding and struggled to pay workers. Few stayed to progress, many left out of desperation. Soon, a breakthrough hit, and a rocket managed to safely land on a neighboring planet. As the rocket safely opened up its hatches, two spacemen slipped out and peered around the foreign planet. It was completely different from Earth, as there was no atmosphere, and the ground was rocky. However, in the distance, the spacemen spotted a group of strange looking beings. They were green and had weird antennas for eyes. These spacemen were loyal to the companies back on Earth, and had a wicked plan brewing in their minds. The two wanted to do anything to support the technological advancements, no matter what they had to do. The two looked at each other, grinning wickedly behind their space helmets. So, they unfolded a special device from the side of their spacecraft. It was a long, foldable pole that had these strange discs attached that could be worn like some sort of cap. “This will do the trick very nicely,” both astronauts said twistedly. They looked around the rocky plains, diving into some sort of spongy, holey bush. They waited impatiently, keeping their urge down to just go commando and capture as many of the aliens as possible. When the time was right, the two spacemen lunged out of a small crater, violently laying each “cap” over a passing alien's head. Instantly, the alien’s couldn’t move and their heads were restrained to each disc attached to the long foldable pole. The captured aliens were violently restrained to the side of the ship and were blasted back to Earth. The two spacemen were then revered and marked as, “heroes,”. The aliens restrained to the ship were soon undocked from it and moved along in a single-file line, with the magnetic discs holding their heads in place. Then, it was decided that they should be used as workers to fuel the ever-growing worker crisis. They were placed into large factories, forced to work 24/7 producing parts for space-crafts. Sometimes they fell from exhaustion, only to be re-awoken violently by a jolt of electricity from an electric-baton. Eventually, more joined the first few in the factories, only to be working tirelessly on cranking out thrusters and circuitry. One day, an alien learned how to communicate properly with their captors by listening to their conversations over time. The alien turned around from his post, painfully twisting against the strong magnetic fields of the disc holding his head. He shouted in a broken-english, “This hurt! Why no rest?”. With a shocked impression on his face, the 6’3 guard watching over them ran out of the room to report this incident. He returned with a sinister smile on his face. He walked up to the little alien and pulled the magnetic disc off the pole holding the others, and dragged him away… never to be seen again. This incident was enough to have the other aliens working tirelessly, to never speak out ever again. Work resumed as usual for another year. Now, mid-way through 2031, the alien workforces were enormous. The entire Northern half of America based their economy and production on them. However, people began to question the North. Protests occurred for civil rights for the aliens. People questioned the practices happening in the factories. Many asked one question that would forever echo through the minds of the factory owners, “Do you think this is fair?” The big-name companies producing space-crafts shrugged these questions off for the time being, as all they cared about was the production rates and the importing of more aliens from the neighboring planet. Soon, there’d be an event that would change the technological revolution forever.

In the year 2032, a year after people began to question the fairness of the aliens being placed into labor, the captive aliens managed to form a hidden rebellion. Since their captors didn’t take the time to study them, as all they cared about was factory production, they had missed one big special difference about the aliens. They were telepathic. Every day, the aliens would communicate silently with each other on their long lines. There’d usually be the phrases of, “When do we go back home?” or “Why are we doing this?” being asked silently around. However, some would occasionally talk about an escape plan. “Hey comrades, I have a plan,” said one alien. After almost two years of communicating freely, they all had finally devised a plan. They believed a revolution was necessary to finally get a word out to the public. Two years of silence was too much, and it was time. On one fateful night, when the lights dimmed to conserve power that was ultimately produced by the enslaved aliens, they all stopped in unison. Their magnetic discs holding their heads in place were so horribly rusted, they all just pried it off the beam holding them all in place, and tossed them aside. Stunned, the guard that tortured all of them and took away one of their comrades ran to the emergency exit. Each factory began to report this disturbance to the big-name companies that owned them. Suddenly, they all shut down and quit production. Breaking free from their factories, they all swarmed outside and grouped together. A shocking sight to behold if you were monitoring a camera from the factories nearby their grouping site. Over a million green aliens, all badly scarred and fatigued, formed a huge crowd. They would storm their ways in front of each company’s headquarters, and would begin to chant, “We are people! We are people!” The CEO of each soon realized what they have been doing so wrong this whole time. However, they all had one thing in common, they were enraged that their factories couldn’t produce anything anymore. “We don’t know what, or who you are!” each CEO responded. As each CEO was respectively wealthy on their own, they built up their own militias just in case something like this happened. They smirked as the sound of helicopter rotors beat in the distance, men shouting as they assumed defensive positions, and armored vehicles humming in the background. The defenseless aliens could not fight such armies on their own, and they were all badly worn out. However, instead of bloodshed, they stood their ground and stared down the opposing force against their freedom and rights. They knew that if they attacked first, they would be in the wrong and people wouldn’t have their support. The CEOs knew that as well, and waited. The showdown caught national attention, as the Southern half began to protest. They would join side-by-side with the aliens in mass, begging for the rights of these previously-enslaved beings. Soon, the cut-off production lines forced the CEOs to retract their private militias. With a big huff and a sigh, each said, “Fine! Have it your way!”, and slammed their doors shut forever. Finally, the now-free aliens lived their lives side-by-side with the humans, and eventually the North accepted them too.

“Different Workforce” is a representation of slavery from around the 1600s. It demonstrates how people were forcibly taken from their homes and placed into labor. The “magnetic discs” represent shackles and chains that slaves wore , and how they were stuck in these single-file lines. The slaves had no say, or else they’d be beat violently by their owners. Also, the Southern states relied so much on slavery, that their economy eventually almost entirely based off on the unjust workforce. The ending is a representation on how slavery could be stopped by getting the word out and having society rise up against it. I used aliens as the “slaves” as they are a different species that nobody understands/knows about, just like the Africans from the 1600s. The theme or moral of the story is that, you should always resort to peace instead of violence, no matter what conditions you are suffering from.

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Spotted

Tyler C.

On a small continent on Earth, there lived a few species. Some of the species were miniscule insects that crawled about aimlessly. However, the animals that took up most of the continent were pigs.  The pigs lived in absolute luxury, their part of the land lush with wheat fields and everything they could possibly have to survive. 

For a few hundred years, life on the continent was smooth. The pigs had plenty to eat and drink. Nothing posed a threat, as there were no predators on the continent. There were some prejudices held against certain pigs, but they were never acted upon, and any biased complaints went unheard, for the fear of starting war.  For a while, the pigs believed they would be able to continue their luxurious lifestyle forever.

Eventually, their belief was proven false. One day, as the sun was beginning to set, the pigs discovered many ships that appeared to be sailing towards their land. Once the ships arrived, out came strange creatures. These creature had long arms and legs, and stood upright. Instead of pink, their skin was pale, and on their heads were what appeared to be thick tufts of yellow fur. In their hands were long sticks that fired deadly objects. Soon, the creatures began to attack the residents of the continent, their weapons stronger than what the pigs could do to defend themselves. For several weeks, the raids ensued, claiming several lives each day. The humans eventually had their fun and decided to leave, taking with them shiploads of crops and pork, all stolen from the land.

A few days passed, and all the pigs were called for a meeting, in the center of their continent. On a small stone stood an elder, who picked up a sheet of paper and began to read, after clearing his throat. “For hundreds of years, we have been at peace. There were no dangers. No wars.” Several pigs in the audience began to nod solemnly as the elder continued. “It has come to our attention that one half of the land has become barren. It seems as if those creatures have taken away all of the crops and plants. We will resolve that sometime later, but the most important concern here is your conditions.”

The elder ordered the pigs to line up, and they did, while the council inspected them, taking notes. At one point, one of them pointed frantically at the list, and discovered that everyone included in the casualties were spotted. On the continent, there were two types of pigs- ones who were spotted, and those who had completely pink skin.  As spotted pigs were already seen as inferior, the council was quick to make assumptions based on their casualties. From this discovery, they began to create new laws- laws that resulted in disadvantages for the spotted ones.

Many generations had passed, and the new laws did not change. Those who lacked spots continued to lead happy lives. They lived in the unraided part of the land, the part that still had crops and resources. Meanwhile, the spotted pigs were not so lucky. The council forced them to live in the barren half of the continent. Their lives were filled with starvation, as there was little to eat. The council sent food to them once a month, but it was only several hundred pounds, and every month, there would still be pigs who were unfed, who staggered around starving. 

Stigma was strong amongst the others. It was widely believed that because of their brown spots, they were inherently dirty and untrustworthy. Many believed them to be weak, as all the casualties in the raid were spotted. Those who lacked spots were given a title- the Cleansed.  They saw themselves as superior to the spotted, and the council agreed. Whatever the Cleansed could have, the spotted pigs could not, or had a poorer version of it.

On the border between the halves was a construction site. There, a multiple-story house was being built. Any type of pig could apply for a job at the construction site, and those who worked there would receive a large sum of money, making it a desirable job. However, not everybody could work there. There was a limit to how many workers were allowed on the project.

Among the workers was a spotted pig. Every day at work, he tried his hardest to contribute to the construction, for the fear that because of his appearance, the others would look for the smallest reason to report him. One day, he was walking home from work. He had just received his pay when he was approached by a pig. As she walked closer to him, he found that she was a Cleansed. Catching up to him, the pig demanded that he give her his job.

“I’m sorry,” the worker replied. “That’s not something I can just give away.” He attempted to walk away from the pig, when he was suddenly pulled back.

“What do you mean, I can’t have your job?” Her eyes were that of a malicious glare. “Look at you!”

The worker remained silent as the pig continued. “You’re a spotted one. Look at your kind! You weak, dirty fools will never get anywhere.” Scowling, she stormed away, leaving the worker in confusion. Shrugging it off, he decided to continue on his way home.

The next day, he headed to the construction site only to find the business owner blocking his way. Seeing the worker’s confused expression, the owner informed him that another pig had taken his job. Next to him was the same pig who had encountered him the day before. She smugly smirked as she whispered, “Told you you’d never go anywhere. Like I said, you’re spotted. Filthy little weaklings.”

The news spread quickly across the continent, and as more spotted pigs heard of the incident, they grew angry at the Cleansed. As similar incidents occurred, all involving a spotted pig being mistreated, the pressure grew until their community decided to break free from their biased society. With the little resources they had, they worked to create a new society separate from the Cleansed, and found new ways to care for themselves.

During a period of several years, the spotted community built a town and searched for ways to become more advanced, even developing a defense system and weapons. Meanwhile, the Cleansed kept their current lifestyle, believing their ways would be superior to the spotted pigs’ no matter what. A few weeks later, the council spotted ships headed towards the continent. However, the Cleansed sat back, waiting for the creatures to arrive. The last time those invaders came, they only killed the spotted, right?, they thought. How would they manage to kill the Cleansed? Many of the pigs scoffed at the idea.

When the intruders arrived, the spotless pigs were taken aback as they slaughtered them with great ease. Panicking, the remaining survivors fled, eventually reaching the spotted community, only to realize a border had been set in advance. However, one of the spotted pigs was watching them on a watchtower, staring with interest.

“Let us in!” the spotless pigs cried. “We’re sorry for the trouble we have caused you in the past!” Several of the pigs began to weep, believing they would be rejected, considering the harm caused in the past. However, the pig on the watchtower decided to climb down and let them in, much to their surprise. The spotless pigs cried tears of rejoice, taken aback by the sudden gesture of kindness.

The spotted pigs’ defense system proved to be useful, eventually convincing the invaders to leave their land and return home. After the raid ended, a meeting was scheduled to discuss the future of their society. The council decided to hold a memorial in memory of those who lost their lives in the raid. Furthermore, there was a change in laws: the spotted pigs were no longer to be seen as inferior. After the raid, the Cleansed could no longer view them that way. 

The matter of consequences represented in this allegory is racism. The separation of the spotted and spotless pigs is meant to symbolize the segregation period of colored and white folks in the United States. Following the abolishment of slavery in the U.S., blacks and white were to be separated. They went to different schools, went to different public places, and used different public services, like drinking fountains. On buses, African-Americans always sat in the back, and had to give up their seats if a white person requested them. The pig who refused to give up his job represents Rosa Parks refusing to give up her seat, a significant event in the Civil Rights movement. After segregation  was abolished, blacks were still sometimes thought of as different, but they are much less mistreated today.

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

Plush vs. Plastic

Gabriella H.

Nine-year-old Peggy burst into her room and flung her bag onto the floor with excitement. She stood in front of the clump of Lego sets on her desk and chirped, “Guess what! Today was my last day of school! I have all summer to play with you guys now!” She chuckled to herself as she sat on her bed. “I must sound silly, talking to my toys! Oh well, I just thought I should tell someone.” The child lied down and snuggled with the mound of stuffed animals on her bed, pulling them in for a hug.

For the toys, this was a normal day. Peggy was always a bubbly girl who loved her toys dearly. Every day, she played with them for hours, and when she was done, she returned each toy to its proper home; the Legos on the desk, and the stuffed animals on the bed. For years they lived this way, the toy groups never bothering each other.

Three days into summer, Peggy received a new shelf. The toys had never seen anything quite as beautiful, with a smooth wooden exterior and glistening rows of storage. They knew that whoever earned a spot on that shelf would be seen as a toy of great honor, and were anxious to discover who would be chosen. That night, Peggy’s mother tucked her into bed and asked, “Have you decided what to put on your shelf yet?”

“Either the Legos or stuffed animals,” Peggy replied sleepily. “I wish I could display all of them, but there’s only room for one group of toys.” She drifted asleep, leaving the room thick with tension. The Legos and stuffed animals now felt divided; two sides both desperately wanting something only one of them could have.

Gripped in Peggy’s arms was a teal plush bunny named Sky, who had been Peggy’s comfort toy since the girl was an infant; she would clutch the bunny when she was scared and hug it to sleep every night. Sky’s importance to Peggy’s life had deemed her the leader of the stuffed toys. She pulled herself free from the child’s grasp to stand in front of her people. She announced, “Friends, for your whole lives you’ve brought Peggy joy by being her playthings and providing warmth from the darkness. If anyone deserves a spot on that shelf, it’s you.”

On the other side of the room, the Lego King was giving the same speech. “We let her creativity flow like no other toys can, but we’re still crammed on this desk! We need a spot on that shelf. And I know we’re going to get it, even if it means-” He looked back at Sky, who was thinking the same thing. In unison they announced, 

“War.”

“War?” piped a small plush cupcake. “But why? How will fighting get us on the shelf?”

“Oh, Sprinkles,” Sky chuckled, “you’re too young to understand.” She was right; Peggy had received Sprinkles only a few weeks ago, while the others had belonged to her for several months and years.

“If we destroy the Legos,” Sky continued, “Peggy can’t put them on the shelf, so she’ll have to pick us.”

“It doesn’t seem right,” Sprinkles responded. “Peggy should be able to choose for herself.”“She will. We’re just ensuring that she chooses us,” the bunny said, becoming annoyed.

“Is it worth it, though? To ruin other toys for our own sake? Peggy loves her Legos. How will she feel when she sees what we’ve done to them?” 

“Do not worry, Sprinkles. Peggy will be so overcome with joy once she puts us on the shelf that she won’t even think about her Legos.”

“But-”

“Now, run along,” Sky said. “We must prepare for tomorrow’s war.” She dismissed the cupcake, leaving him disappointed with his failed attempt. 

Throughout the night the toys frantically prepared for battle Sprinkles tried several times to convince his leader not to go to war, but every time she shooed him away, claiming it was “the only way” and that he would understand when he was older.

The next morning, Peggy and her family went to the beach, leaving the toys alone in the house.  The two tribes faced each other from opposite sides of the room, their leaders glaring at one another with hatred they had never felt before.

“And so it begins,” the Lego King said coldly. “If the bunny doesn’t choose to surrender, the battle may start. 

“Surrender? Never.” Sky scoffed. “Could we skip the trash talking and get this over with?”

“Very well then.” The king cleared his throat. “I hereby declare this war-”

“Wait!” screamed a tiny voice, interrupting the moment of tension between the warring sides. It was Sprinkles, out of breath from running across the bed. “You can’t do this, please! It goes against everything we stand for. It’s not what Peggy would’ve wanted, not at all.” He looked pleadingly at both the Lego King and his own leader, his round fabric eyes filling with tears. 

The Lego King sighed with frustration, glaring at the cupcake. “I will not stop my war because of a child. Now, may we please begin with no interruptions?”“Sprinkles, you’re making us look like fools,” Sky whispered sharply. “Go in the back and prepare for battle.”

As Sprinkles walked along the bed, ashamed, he received blank stares from his fellow stuffed animals. The battle resumed, and the toys began launching weapons at each other. Sprinkles sat on a pillow as tears rolled down his soft felt body. I tried to do the right thing, I really did, but nobody wants to listen to me, he thought. The least I can do is stay put and not fight. The cupcake looked up and noticed the destruction that was happening before him - stuffed animals threw Peggy’s pet rocks at the Legos in attempts to shatter them, while the Legos launched scissors to cut through the plushies' cloth skin. It was horrible. Loose stuffing and torn pieces of fabric scattered the bed. Plastic bricks flew into the air and clattered onto the floor. Even Sky was lying on the floor in pain, a scissor blade piercing her furry chest. Sprinkles couldn't bear to watch, yet it was all he could do at this point. He thought of Peggy, and how she would react when she saw her favorite toys in ruins. He closed his eyes; the mere thought of the sweet girl having to witness this was heartbreaking.

Hours passed and the war raged on until every toy faced their ugly death. The front door unlocked, and Peggy’s family entered the house. The girl skipped toward her room and gleefully said, “Great news, toys! I think that if I pack you tightly enough I can fit all of you on the shelf-” She stopped in her tracks, realizing the destruction that had occurred. “Wh-what happened?” She looked at the shattered plastic and patches of stuffing surrounding her feet. Seeing her favorite toys destroyed with no explanation, she began to cry. Peggy looked around the room again and noticed Sprinkles, who sat on her bed perfectly intact. Carefully she picked him up and whispered, “At least you’re still okay.” The child placed her plush cupcake atop the shelf and smiled.

Years later, Sprinkles still holds a front-row spot on Peggy’s shelf. The girl has replaced her toys, but Sprinkles holds the most special place in her heart as the one who survived the mysterious disaster that overtook her room. The cupcake spends his spare time telling stories of the war now known as “Plush vs. Plastic” to the new toys, who look up to him for being so wise and kind when his colleagues weren’t. Every toy looks at him in awe and respect from all across the room, sometimes wishing they had his honored spot on the shelf that so many died for.

This allegory symbolizes conflict caused by greed and fighting. The toys started a war because of pure selfishness, not caring for the feelings of their owner. If they didn’t fight, they might have been able to share the shelf. Meanwhile, Sprinkles, who refused to fight, was rewarded with a spot on the shelf, showing that fighting solves nothing, and conflicts can usually be resolved with peaceful discussion before they escalate too far. Sprinkles also symbolizes how children are overlooked due to their age, although they are often wiser than adults because of their open-mindedness. Sprinkles was shown to be the wisest of the toys because he was the only one who knew war would solve nothing. Lastly, Peggy represents loved ones who bring out the good in us. Throughout the story, Sprinkles was concerned about Peggy and how sad she would be after the war, and whenever he argued against it it was for her sake, showing how people we care about can inspire us to do good.

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

Days of Bam

David J.

It was my freshman year in high school in a neighborhood called Oksu-dong. My dad dropped me off at the bus stop on his way to work. I didn’t even have my uniform. I was going to buy it from the tailor the next day. I remember it like it was yesterday. I stood in front of the room. I introduced myself and sat down next to this girl, Yi-seo; she was pretty, with long black hair. The day went by fast, and lunch came quickly. Lee-kim, dyed blond hair, pierced ears, highschool delinquent, slammed a kid into the lockers, poured milk on his head, all because the kid didn’t get the strawberry flavored milk. There was no more; I wanted one myself. Pathetic, right? I couldn’t control myself; I hate when people get their way when doing something wrong. I hate it even more when people suck up to someone. I got out of my seat when Yi-seo grabbed my arm. 

“Don’t, he’s the principal’s son,” she said. I had to laugh! Cliché isn’t it. I remember saying to her, “Is that it?” Oh, boy and the face she gave me. I walked over to Lee-kim and pushed him against the lockers. I took the carton of milk, and thrust it in his face, pouring the rest on him.

 “How do you like that?” If only I knew how much trouble that question would have got me in. I turned around to walk away, but before I started walking, he kicked my legs, causing me to fall face first in the spilled milk. He laughed, one of those antagonist cackles you see on TV shows. 

“How do you like that?” he whispered. He was looking down on me. The glint in his eyes made me feel like garbage, like whatever I did to him, didn’t matter because he was strong, and whatever he did to me would break me. I punched him, a strong right-hook in the jaw. He laid on the floor, clothes wet, and face swollen. The next thing I knew, I was in the principal’s office. My dad was next to me; he didn’t look at me once. 

“What should I do with your son, Mr. Baek? He assaulted my son and one of his classmates on his first day here.” No one said anything. I felt broken, that this was how the world was. Those with power stay at the top no matter the cost, and those at the bottom experience the price of such power. The next thing I knew, I was suspended.  I walked back to the car with my dad. I remember crying, trying so hard to hold back my tears, knowing I let my father down, knowing my future isn’t going to be as prosperous as my dad thought it would be. 

“Can you say something?” I asked my dad. 

“We don’t have to buy your uniform anymore.”

I loved my dad for that, you know? No matter the situation, he always found the better side of the outcome. Benjamin Franklin once said, “I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting sun.” 

My father volunteered at an orphanage, but I was always busy preparing for the police force exam, so I never went with him. I had free time, so I went with him after he got off from work. I never expected to find Yi-seo there. It pained me to see her there. A pretty, smart girl, left alone in a cruel and dark world. My father dropped off food and supplies, talking casually with the other children and volunteers there. Yi-seo was talking to my dad; it seemed like they were very close to each other. Why didn’t he ever introduce me to a girl as pretty as she is? Crazy.  She didn’t look at me the entire time I was there. It was like I never joined her class. We were about to leave; my dad and I were already in the car. Yi-seo walked over to the window, and I lowered the window.

“You’re an idiot for what happened yesterday, but I like that.” I was an idiot. I couldn’t even talk to a girl.

“Oh,” I responded.

“You’re a real charmer.” my dad said. We were driving home just as night approached. The street lights were dim. Not many cars were out this late. Everything I had left, after what Lee-kim took from me, gone. In moments everything I had left was taken by Lee-kim. My future, my dad. I got knocked out. When I woke up, the car was sideways, the airbag was deflating, my left arm was stuck, and my head was bleeding. Glass was everywhere. I remember cutting the ligament in my left arm on the glass as I freed it from in between the seat and door. My dad was gone. The glass windshield was shattered but had a hole in front of the driver’s seat. In the middle of the road was his body. The car that hit us, black, sleek, nearly invisible at this time of night. I pushed the door open and rolled onto the road. People were coming out of their homes, calling the police; no one bothered to help my dad. I thought there was still hope. I figured I could always make it up to him for being suspended. I passed out on the road but not before I saw the driver of the black car. I remember the eyes. The lifeless eyes of my dad next to me, and the eyes of pity and arrogance. The same ones Lee-kim had, the Lee-kim that took everything from me, the Lee-kim that stood on top of me and grinned.

I woke up in a hospital bed. Yi-seo was asleep in the chair next to me. How she knew I was there is still a mystery to me today. 

Like I was saying, she woke up and smiled. The smile you have when you see someone you’ve missed. 

“Rest,” she said. The next morning the police came into the room. The officers had photos of the scene and the assailant. I knew who it was already, but I felt better when they told me. Yi-seo stared, speechless. People like Lee-kim make me sick. The police told me he wanted to come to a compromise. He wanted to put a value on my dad’s life. I was at my limit. I hobbled out of bed, Yi-seo running after me. She grabbed my arm, the same thing as two days ago. To think I lost everything I had in two days. I mustered a smile. I had to stay strong in front of a girl that was going to break down. I understand now that I wasn’t the only one who lost someone important that day. She let go, knowing nothing was going to stop me. I took the elevator down, and he was outside. Bandaged and smoking, like he didn’t have a care in the world. I walked towards him, watching him put out his cigarette and trying to crawl away as he fell. The feeling where you stand on top of a king after you tear down his kingdom was what I felt. I gave him the same right-hook, over and over again. Then I asked him, 

“How do you like that?” I was blind with fury and love. The love for my dad, the love for my reason to live. Without him, what is there to live for, what should I expect? I picked a rock up and brought it over my head. Tears were flowing down my face, covering the bloody, terrified face of Lee-kim from my eyes.

“Park.” I hesitated. I turned around to see her crying, her heart, broken from seeing me this way. I was about to kill a man. I dropped the rock, and the same police officers came out the door to handcuff me. I got nine years for assault and attempted murder charges. If it weren’t for Yi-seo, I might not be here right now. I still haven’t seen her since that day. I couldn’t bring myself to see her when she visited me. I’m going to meet her again eventually, just not after I got released this morning, cheers.

Revenge is a powerful thing. It can drive people into despair, or it can help encourage people, be a person’s reason to live. If you’re prepared to take revenge, be ready to take the toll. Park, the main character, is supposed to represent anyone going through a hard time. He’s someone who lost hope and was about to succumb to despair. Yi-seo symbolizes people’s reason to live. Why we live, who we live for, is what helps hold us back, it’s what lifts us out of black water.

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

Conformity Mall

Johnny L.

We begin this story with an introduction to Tom. He’s a good friend of mine, and he is always open about his experiences. As many of you reading this, he is very outgoing and full of personal accounts. Tom is like any other person on the planet. He was born with a mind waiting to be full with ideas and a personality for him to achieve. Tom lives his life, facing the trials and tribulations that he put himself through with his life choices. The other day, he told me about his trip to the mall. I found it very interesting that just a small trek to the mall could affect the way the public eye looks at him and the way he looks at the public.

It was just a normal fall day with the crisp air blowing through the trees. As Tom entered the mall, he was greeted by the sound of music and thousands of mall-goers babbling on with their respective groups. Tom had no goal in this trip. He was merely watching, as the people went in and out of stores and looked around. When one is at the mall, they are a tourist, feeling and sightseeing all the things they could buy or eat. They learn new things everytime they go to the mall. It is a surprise to see what is in stock everytime. Tom enters his first store, the sporting goods store.

In the sporting goods store, Tom met this one group of people who were just browsing the store as he was. He took note of their physical appearance. Muscular, fit, and definitely a devoted sportie. Tom had accidentally knocked over some bouncing balls and one of them had come and helped pick them up. It was just an act of kindness. However, the guy took one look at his face and scoffed. “What are you doing here?” His friends snickered behind him. Tom was embarrassed. To be called out for his experience wasn’t very pleasant. Tom had to think of a response, before the athlete said anything else. “Just picking up some weights to practice at home.” He thought to himself, “Why did I say that? I could’ve just admitted I’m not athletic.” The athlete’s face turned from an arrogant smirk to a slight smile. “I respect fellow athletes,” he said awkwardly, with his friends losing attention. Tom had avoided more extreme embarrassment, but at what cost? He was now living a lie and had to act his part. Tom had conformed and became what he was not. This left him wondering why people naturally do this. 

As he exited the sporting goods store, his eyes caught onto the glimmering jewelry store across the hallway. He knew he couldn’t afford them, but he always loved to see the intricate designs on jewelry. There was a group of girls picking out some jewelry. The girls looked very fancy and decorated with makeup with their Starbucks iced coffees in hand.  It wasn’t long before the girls saw Tom, a guy with casual clothing walking into a jewelry store. They gave him weird looks. “Why are you even here? You don’t have money, like us.” This baffled Tom. These girls thought they were so superior just because of the amount of money they had. Tom became depressed that people were like this. He quickly fired back with, “Oh I have money, I just don’t want to use it here.” “Why did I say that?,” he thought once again. It was like he didn’t have control over himself. With this event in mind, he walked out in embarrassment.

This day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Tom went into the bookstore hoping to find some solace in the serenity. Reading was one of his favorite things to do, and he hoped nothing would ruin this wonderful past-time for him. A group of thespians babbled on about their plays and shows in the corner. Tom was not very fond of the arts. The clique giggled at the fact that Tom was reading a book about math and science because it made him look nerdy. Tom noticed and he was quick to make a remark. He said, “This isn’t the only type of book I read.” The group made a look that said, “Ok, and?” The embarrassment was unbearable. Tom felt as though today was just not his day. The people weren’t very welcoming to him and he wanted to put an end to this.

Finally, Tom gathered up the courage to confront these people about what they had said. He felt that he wasn’t really being his true self and that the people would see the real him if he opened up about himself. Maybe he could even befriend some of them along the way. The athlete found out he wasn’t very athletic. The rich girls found out he was nothing but a measly paid worker who could not but stare at jewelry in hopes of buying one for a loved one some time in the future. The thespians found out he was nothing but a nerd when it came to literature.  Tom’s burden of all these conformities had been lifted off his shoulders and given back to their respectful inspirations. He left the mall with nothing in his hands, but a big lesson in his heart. After that mall encounter, he has found enjoyment in returning to the mall, meeting new faces, and even finding old friends. His encounter at the mall that day was especially important and let him learn a lesson. A lesson that not everyone can be cool and fit in and you just have to accept and embrace that fact.

I wrote this allegory to represent the conformities that students and people in the real world go through just to fit in with people they look up to and see as superior to them. Sometimes, there isn’t a positive impact when you conform. One might see it as being included, but in reality it is almost as hurtful as being excluded. The way people act changes in different settings, but the way that people may inflict mental strain and changes to their appearance is just too much for a measly acceptance to a clique. It is conformity that breaks students in their early years. “Conform or be cast out.” Although this quote from “Subdivisions” by RUSH may seem tantalizing, there are consequences of conformity that one has to take into account before actually conforming. Will this be safe for me? Will this affect the way people see me in public? Does this change the way I will act for the rest of my life? These things have to be taken into account so that people know what is safe for them. In this allegory, the main character, Tom, faces many trials in which he conforms, but it is not until the end when he realizes what he has done and what this does to his public image. 

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

Different but Similar

Ryan O.

Young Joseph had been alone since he was a child. Now he was a teenager; surviving on his own. Since he was born around when Hitler came into power, all he knew was war. On a sunny bright day in Germany, he lived in a gloomy ghetto. These towns were not any more than a mere prison. Now, he got himself into deep trouble. “Hey jew! Come shine my shoes!” hollered some Hitler Youth kids. Joseph looked down at the ground and muttered “No, do it yourself you Nazi.” The instant those cold words left his lips he regretted it deeply. “Alright,” he thought “take the punishment.” 

He readied for the terrible beating he was soon to receive from the duo. First he felt the brutal blow to his stomach and fell to the floor. After what seemed like hours and hours of pain, it faded away. He looked up and noticed a peculiar dove perched on a rail. It was the clearest white he had ever seen. Then as it flew away he snapped out of it. He glanced up and saw another German. However, this time it wasn’t a beating that I received. Instead, a hand reached out to him like an angel coming to his rescue. The hand pulled him up and he went to give his thanks but the boy just nodded and hurried away. 

Joseph stood there dumbfounded. “Huh. A german helped me. He helped a jew.” Joseph realized it was time for lunch so he dusted himself off and headed to the kitchen. “Damn.” Joseph whispered. He was too late and so the line was about two blocks long. He rubbed his cold fingers over his filthy rations card that was covered in a layer of dirt and grime as he sighed heavily. As he was waiting on the line, thoughts flew around in his mind. “There must be about a hundred people trying to get food.” It was funny how he thought that there must have been a billion citizens in the ghetto yet he still felt alone. 

Joseph wasn’t always alone though.Eight years ago he still lived with his parents. It was a night of terror as he stood there powerless while his parents were dragged away onto the trucks by the gestapo. He was left by himself in the living room, bawling on the floor. His father was only trying to get more food for his family. “Why couldn’t the gestapo understand that!” he screamed in his thoughts. Now his father was being dragged away for it. 

Joseph assumed his parents were sent to concentration camps. He had heard terrifying stories about those dreadful camps. Nobody sent there is ever seen again. As his thoughts and memories floated away, Joseph came back to reality and saw he was nearing the front of the line. Once Joseph got his so-called “meal” he headed back to his miniscule one-room apartment. He put his spoon into the watery soup and began eating. The soup that was handed out was barely even soup; it was just water with flour and sugar. He wished his father was still by his side. If his father was still here, he would be eating fresh loaves of bread along with the watery soup. 

Funny how before the Nazi invasion, bread was a common courtesy but now Joseph viewed it as a gift from the gods. The last time he tasted bread was a few months back when he found a piece of bread on the ground. It was cold and nasty but at least it filled his stomach for a little while. Back before the Nazis, Joseph actually had friends. When the Nazis invaded Poland his friends stopped hanging out with him just because he was a jew. Well, it was better for him because more friends risked drawing attention. Because he was a jew he wasn’t even allowed to go back to school. He was basically banned from any public place except the park. And that was only because he needed to arrive at the park every morning and night at 8:00 for roll calls. If you missed the roll call, you would be beaten by the gestapo and if you missed it again you would be sent to the camps. 

After finishing his meal he felt the urge to use the restroom. Since he didn’t have a restroom he needed to use the rancid outhouses so he got in the line and waited. When he glanced up at the sky, he saw something dark. It was too big to be a bird. He stared at it, bewildered. Then, out of nowhere the ground shook and Joseph was blown off his feet. He heard the loudest noise he had ever heard. It was even louder than the ghetto alarms. He was sure his eardrums would explode. He tried to get up but fell back down when a sharp pain in his leg kicked him down. He felt the light fading and felt someone pull on him. He didn’t care if it was a Nazi or a Jew. Just before he passed out he saw the white dove one more time. 

When Joseph woke up, he assumed he was still in the cramped ghetto hospital back in Germany. He looked up but instead of the terrible swastika, he saw the thirteen stripes and the stars. That's when it hit him. He was in America! “The land of the free.” That's what Joseph’s father always said before the war. His mother was planning for the Aarons to move to America for a better life like how Joseph’s friend Max had done with his family. He observed the room around him and saw a boy around his age. The german that helped him. “Thanks for everything you did for me. I owe you a lot.” “It’s nothing. By the way, my name's Franz.” I learned that his mother was gone and his dad was a Nazi. His father forced him into the Hitler Youth but Franz despised it. His dad was gonna come to America with him but he took the two tickets and came to America with an unconscious me. 

Then and there, I realized I had met a great friend to last a lifetime. We talked for hours until he had to go to where he was staying. When he looked out the open window Joseph awed at the sights he saw. Joseph’s window looked over the entire New York City and the Brooklyn Bridge. Now he finally knew why his mother had wanted to move to America so badly. Right then, a flock of doves flew by his window. For the first time in a long time, Joseph Aaron felt safe. He knew he wasn’t the same. He was still an underweight wimp but he knew everything would get better over time. That, he was sure of.

This story is about a boy who is like all the other boys but nobody sees that because he’s a Jew in Nazi occupied Germany. If they could just see beyond his nationality they would realize who he truly is. Whenever he saw that dove, his new friend, Franz would show up at his side to help him. Once he sees this dove he is saved and the situation gets better. It told him that everything is going to be fine despite all the terrors. The moral or theme of the story is that if you can look past one’s differences, you will see their true personalities and traits. Franz was the first one to look past Joseph’s differences and find a good friend inside of him. If you can’t see past someone’s differences, you will never know who they really are.

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

Float

Lacey R.

Lily turned to her side. She could have focused on anything else that was reflected; the pale pink walls surrounding her, the black closet to her right, the many sweatshirts hanging on the door. Instead, she chose to focus on herself. It seemed as if every time she glanced at any part of her body, she found something new to dislike about it.

She was often told she was a beautiful girl, but in her eyes she was nothing of the sort. She grew up with images of short, skinny girls with light hair and light eyes being shoved down her throat and called gorgeous, perfect or ideal. How could she compare to that?

Lily never thought she was ugly. She just wished she had a chance to change a few aspects of her appearance. She was confident in her hair, her eyes, her lips and her nose but wished her skin was slightly darker and clearer. Her chest wasn’t too small, her waist was somewhat tiny, and she wasn’t too tall or too short, but she’d do anything to have slimmer arms, a flatter stomach, slimmer thighs and smaller feet.

Sick and tired of over thinking, she walked over to the black desk chair and rolled it towards the window. The sky in front of her was light pink, orange and yellow. The clouds appeared gray against the colored sky. In that moment, she wished she was that sky.

Lily decided it was late enough to go to sleep, and that for once she was calm and tired enough to do so. She closed her eyes and kept the scene in her mind, and dozed off in hopes that maybe when she woke up, she could be as gorgeous and tranquil as the sky.

The next morning, she woke up and looked out the window again. The sun had yet to rise, so the sky was a dark blue. You could see the outline of the clouds, but not which color they seemed. 

Pretty, Lily thought. 

Rolling out of bed, she stumbled to the door and into the bathroom. The next hour was spent fixing any flaw she could and picking an outfit to hide her insecurities while not looking like she let herself go. She turned her face to the left and tilted it up. Her cheek looked slightly hollow and her jawline was sharper than the day before. Smiling to herself, Lily put on her shoes, grabbed her bag and left.

The first four classes passed by fairly quickly, and Lily couldn’t help but feel like today was her day. Lunch came and she sat down at her table with her friend group. They turned the worst days into the best, so surely they’d keep her streak of good things happening for the day. 

“Lil, you look really pale. You should eat a little. It wouldn’t hurt,” Philomena said. 

If Lily didn’t have it already, she was developing what many people thought could be anorexia. She ate very little and worked out as much as she could just to lose weight. No one mentioned it that much in fear of triggering her or making her feel worse than she already did. Sometimes, though, they had to or who knows what would happen.

She considered the offer, but remembered how she looked yesterday. “I’m always pale. I’ll be okay, I feel fine,” she said with a smile.

Lunch and period 6 passed with many conversations, jokes only Lily and her friends found funny and walks around the school to avoid boredom. Next was Lily’s least favorite class, gym. She ran into the locker room in an attempt to grab the locker all the way in the back. Philomena followed behind her.

“Lily, I love your confidence. It’s so inspiring how comfortable you are in your own body!” Leilah said to her, confusing Lily. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or appreciative. Did she mean she was fat? 

“Aw, thank you!” Lily replied. She could’ve asked what she meant, but sometimes it’s better not to know.

Soon, everyone rushed upstairs into the gym. Lily was starving, but she loved the feeling of being strong enough to not give in to her hunger. Her head felt lighter which was unusual, but she didn’t really mind. If she kept this up a little longer, maybe she’d finally look the way she wanted.

The day soon ended, and she rushed back home to change quickly in time for dance. She was a competitive dancer, this being her fifth year, and she practiced 11 hours and 15 minutes a week. It was annoying at times, but it was the best form of exercise she had which also kept her busy.

She began her jog to the studio, but as she stepped outside she took a minute to look at the sky. It was bright blue and clear with the exception of the sun shining down. 

I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so stunning, Lily thought and began to run.

She arrived, following the schedule for every Monday. Her and 17 other girls ran their dance as the teacher asked. Lily went full out and used any energy she had left to push herself through. As they finished the number, her sight quickly began to fade. She looked around, her surroundings turning dark. Her ears began to ring, blocking out any other noise. She felt as if she was going to throw up, then her legs gave out and she lost touch with the world. 

She woke up to everyone standing over with concerned looks. As her eyes fluttered open, everyone began to shout at her, asking if she was alright. Her mother stood at the door, and told her she’d be driving her home.

Lily laid in bed that night. She rolled over to see the sky outside once more. It was now a darker blue, dotted with bright white stars in an unorganized formation that somehow looked just right. That’s when it all hit her. The sky hadn’t looked the same any time she took a minute to inspect it. Yet every time, it was still beautiful. ‘Beautiful’ truly doesn’t have one definition. It can mean so many more things.

Lily thought to herself, Maybe I am as beautiful as some people say, and drifted off to sleep.

My title, “Float”, references how the main character feels stuck battling her insecurities to become what society has defined as perfect, as if she is floating and cannot bring herself to rise to the top or sink to the bottom.  The main character, Lily, represents the effect society has on self esteem. We are taught that in order to be beautiful, we must look a certain way. This causes some people to take unnecessary measures such as plastic surgery and eating disorders. People wish to be beautiful or wanted so terribly that they’ll risk their own health for it. The sky represents the idea that anyone can be beautiful despite their appearance. The moral of the allegory is to learn to be comfortable and confident in who you are because people worth having in your life will stick around regardless of who and what you are.

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                             The Roller Coaster of Drug Addiction

Vera T.

The memories of my unpolluted and innocent mind are much like a foggy mist lurking in the back of my mind.  But the choices I made to get where I currently reside remain crystal clear in a sopping pool of regret sulking in the depths of my thoughts.  The others around me have the time of their lives as I sit nearly paralyzed in anaphylactic shock. How could I have chosen to do this?  I am generally a person who shies away from big things and taking risks but my friends are the polar opposite.  And although we were opposite they looked like they were always having fun, and they were always taking risks and living on the edge and I envied their happiness. I wanted to be like them and be able to do things and take risks which I think is what fueled me to make this awful decision.

My memory is like a fragile glass that has been picked up and dropped by a clumsy toddler, and although the pieces are broken they are still existent.   I can remember my friends telling me that I would feel “incredible.”  I believed them yet now I feel worse than I ever have.  I remember when we drove to the amusement park, I knew none of my friends had a driver's license or a learner’s permit.  Although I was skeptical and worried, my friends seemed like everything was fine, so I loosened up and just went with it.  Taking these risks just felt thrilling and I never felt like this before. To be honest, I was in love with this feeling of being free.  As they say, ignorance is bliss.  I have been repeatedly told by my parents that my friends were a horrendous influence on my behavior, that I was “running with the wrong crowd.”  My only thought was that I was young and at this age, all I should be worrying about is experiencing things and having fun. 

As we drove into the park in the car we were driving illegally, I could barely miss the bright and colorful neon signs.  Everywhere I looked they were thoroughly dispersed throughout the park entrance to the point where it was like sensory overload or an LSD trip.  We walked through the park but my friends really only wanted to be there to go on a specific roller coaster that was supposed to be legendary.  My friends eagerly ran towards the roller coaster as I trailed behind them at a more normal and moderate pace.  I’ve always had a healthy fear of heights and I’m just going to die anyway now.  I'd like to die saying that I’ve faced my fear that isn’t even that serious.  I thought this knowing very well that I had a long time to live and I’m not dying anytime soon.  So I should just get over myself and do it, I said to myself mentally as I looked down at my Nike shoes.

As I approached the front of the line with my eager friends as I looked around at all the excited faces.  I thought to myself that I couldn’t be the only one who was anxious about this.  The next thing I knew I was strapping myself into the ride along with my friends.  At first, the ride moved slowly and for a split second, I thought to myself maybe this might all be ok and I might not explode and implode at the exact same time.  Soon, the ride was going upwards.  Slowly the wind against my face and in my hair felt refreshing and rejuvenating.  What they said was true. I did feel invincible and incredible.  I was blasted with a wave of intense euphoria. That extreme feeling of happiness lasted for about 13 to 20 seconds and I felt better than I ever did.  I wanted to experience it again.  The next thing I knew, the ride was going straight down at gut-wrenching speeds.  It was exactly the polar opposite of what I had experienced just then and I had never felt worse.  I begged for this part to be over but then within the next eight to twelve seconds my prayers were answered and a wave of euphoria washed over me as the wind in my face and in my hair notified me that I was going up once again.  Over the rest of the ride, I experienced extremely high ups and intense miserably low downs.  Suddenly, I realized that I was the last one on the ride and it had stopped.

“Hey, do you need help getting off the ride?” asked the amusement park employee.“Yeah,” I answered almost out of breath. I saw my friends leave the ride and go running back to go on it once again as if they had forgotten about me and were compelled by the feeling of that traumatic roller coaster.

In this allegory, I compared someone's traumatic experience on a roller coaster to the cyclical and vicious cycle of drug addiction crystal meth (methamphetamine) and cocaine in particular.  Over 67,000 Americans overdose every year,  and 19.7 million adults aged 12  or older have or are still battling substance abuse.  In addition over 772,000 teens between the age of 12 and 17 are addicted to drugs. The setting of the story (an amusement park) symbolizes excitement and drugs can be exciting, especially to a young audience. A lot of addicts start drugs with the mentality that they are young and free or simply by peer pressure which is portrayed by the main characters' friends.

In this story, the main character symbolizes a drug addict on the metaphorical roller coaster of drug addiction. In this story, the roller coaster symbolizes a drug addict’s cycle and how one will take the drug to get high which is conveyed by going up on the roller coaster.  Eventually, it will wear off which is symbolized by the painful drop on the roller coaster.  Crystal meth and cocaine are represented in particular because when using these two drugs, one experiences a high of 20-30 minutes for cocaine and about 6 -8 hours for crystal meth.  Also after using those drugs and they wear off, you tend to feel very sick and experience withdrawal so one takes the drug again to stop the sick feeling.   The next time you want to use them you must increase the dosage just to feel something because you have basically fried your nerve endings by doing drugs.  One will take more drugs to get high and eventually they become addicted and you cannot get out of the vicious cycle of drug addiction without help from others or rehab which is symbolized by the amusement park employee asking the main character if she needs help getting off the roller coaster.   The main moral of the story is don’t do drugs or get into the vicious cycle of drug addiction because you will most likely become addicted which will significantly increase your likelihood of overdosing.  If you do become addicted, seek help from others or rehab. 

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Forest News

Jade W.

Hidden within the world, there was a forest where birds conquered all. On the grassy land, in the clear blue skies, and in the glistening waters, no matter where you looked, there were flocks of birds gathered. Within the forest, there were many types of birds. Large, small, and every size in between, birds were welcomed and living in the trees. 

Deep in the forest where the shrubs were dense lived a bird, Fliah. This cardinal was very helpful to everyone, as he lived upholding his sense of justice. One morning, Fliah was flying to the clearing within the oak trees to visit his best friend, Birdee. When Fliah landed, the first thing he saw was a small crowd outside Birdee’s house. 

“What’s going on? Why is everyone here demanding answers from Birdee?” Fliah inquired.

A sparrow replied harshly,“Have you seen the latest issue of Forest News? Birdee here attacked Tweety while she was flying! Luckily Tweety wasn’t hurt, but I’ll give this bird a piece of my mind!” A few other birds from the swarm chirped in, “Yeah!” one said, “This is unacceptable!” another shouted.

Fliah was appalled when he heard of what Birdee had done from the flock. He couldn’t believe that his best friend would do such a thing to another bird. 

“I’ll handle this. I can’t allow such injustice to be left alone.” Fliah said sternly, looking at the door of Birdee’s house. “Disperse. I will solve this problem.” With those powerful words, the crowd began to dissipate slowly.

Fliah's feathers tensed as he knocked loudly on the door. Not long after, the door creaked open.

A petite blue jay peaked its head around the door. A small voice greeted Fliah. “Are they gone?”

“Yes.”

“Finally. I couldn’t stand it much longer. Come on in.”

“Before that, I need to talk to you.”“About what?”

“About you hitting another bird while in the sky, of course! What else would I be talking about? What did Tweety ever do to you? You can't just hit someone innocent without having a reason! Even if you do, you shouldn't hit others! I’m very disappointed in you, you know. Now, let’s go over to Tweety’s house and apologize to her.” 

A short pause came before Birdee responded. “No.”

“What?”

Anger washed across Birdee’s face. With a swift turn, the door slammed shut in Fliah’s face.

“Even you’re taking her side!? I thought we were best friends, Fliah! You don’t even know what happened, so stay out of it! You only acted on baseless rumors you heard! Get out!”

Stunned at the violent reaction, Fliah tried to reason with Birdee, hoping for a way to salvage the situation.

“Birdee, I just-”

Birdee cut him off, yelling, “I said, get out of here! I don’t want to hear the advice of someone who doesn’t know what really occurred!”

Fliah, knowing that it’d be better to leave Birdee alone for the time being, turned around and took off. 

While flying, Fliah thought about how weird it was for Birdee to act like she did. She said that I acted on baseless rumors, so does that mean I’m wrong? Does that mean that she really didn’t attack Tweety? Thoughts swirled around his mind. I should find out for myself if what I heard was really true, in the name of justice! Fliah decided that he would visit Tweety to listen to her side of the story, but he had a problem: He didn’t know where her house was.

Wandering through the sky, Fliah noticed a chickadee resting on a stump. Perhaps that chickadee knows where Tweety lives, Fliah thought. The cardinal swooped down and landed gracefully on a tree stump behind the chickadee.

“Hello there! Are you perhaps a friend of Tweety?” Fliah asked politely. 

The chickadee jumped up. Startled by the sudden voice, she turned around and answered. “What? Oh… yeah, I am. Who’s asking?” 

“I’m Fliah. You are?”“Chirpie. My name is Chirpie.”“As in the writer for Forest News Chirpie, yes? Do you know where Tweety is? I’m looking for her now.”“Yes, that’s me. What about Tweety? Why are you looking for her?”

“It’s about that rumor of her being attacked by a good friend of mine. I tried to get Birdee to apologize to Tweety but she yelled at me, saying that I knew nothing about the event. I thought it was strange of her to react that way, so here I am, trying to find Tweety so I can hear what she has to say.”

Chirpie hesitated for a second. She turned her head to the side and said, “Well, if you continue down that path, you’ll reach her house. It’s decorated with pinecones so it’s hard to miss.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you very much for the help!” Fliah looked to his left and was about to fly off when he glanced back at Chirpie. She was sweating, and fidgeting with her tense feathers. That doesn’t seem right, Fliah thought. So, he turned to face Chirpie and asked, “Excuse me, I know this is weird of me to say, especially since we just met, but are you alright? You don’t seem fine.”

Chirpie, flushed, replied hastily with, “No, I’m fine! There is absolutely nothing wrong with me! I don’t feel bad or guilty or weird about anything at all! Nope, yup I’m absolutely fine right now!”

Fliah narrowed his eyes. “I’m not dumb, you know. You’re acting suspicious right now. Are you sure you’re okay?” His tone became softer as he said, “If you’re feeling bad about something, you can tell me. I don’t want to see someone hurt, it’s in my nature.”

Chirpie retorted, “Well, how do I know you’ll keep what I said a secret? I don’t want to share something weighing me down with someone I just met!”

“So there was something bothering you. You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone else and you’ll feel better after you let it all out. I swear that on the name of justice!” Fliah pressed, trying to get Chirpie to open up.

“Swearing on the name of justice? You’re weird, you know?” Chirpie laughed. “Since you’re Birdee’s friend, I’ll tell you. I wrote a fake article about the event. What really happened was Tweety tried to push Birdee out of the sky. Birdee retaliated, hitting Tweety. I only included the part about Birdee hitting Tweety to boost sales of my newspaper. I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

So that explains why Birdee acted that way. How do we fix this? Fliah wondered, racking his head.

“What’s done is done. What you do now to right your wrong is up to you. Now that I’ve learned the whole story, I’ll apologize to Birdee. You should come too.” “I think I’ll do that. Let’s go.” Chirpie nodded. She looked at the sky, ready for takeoff, and started flying with Fliah to Birdee’s house.

At last the pair arrived at their destination. Softly, Fliah knocked on the door. No response. Again, Fliah knocked.

“...What do you want?”

“I’m here with Chirpie.”

“The writer who published that false article?”

Chirpie came up to the door and solemnly said, “I’m s-sorry for writing that article. I-I’ll write another article explaining the whole event. I’m really sorry.”

Fliah followed, “I’m sorry for acting like that when I didn’t bother to find out the whole story. I was rash.”The door opened and a blue jay emerged.

“I accept your apologies.” She said, smiling. “As long as you clear up the misunderstanding.”

Chirpie and Fliah looked at each other, shocked. They faced Birdee and smiled. In unison, they thanked her for being so kind.

After that, an article was published on how Chirpie twisted the story for a headline. Many criticized Chirpie, for writing fake news, and Tweety, for being the aggressor. From that day on, Fliah made sure to always check that the story he heard was true before he acted and judged the birds involved.

My allegory is representing the message "Know all sides to a story before judging". The birds represent people. Birday is an outsider, judging Birdee and Tweety from what he hears about them. The different types of birds show that it can involve anyone. In my life, I have noticed many people who hear one side of a story and make judgement about the involved parties and act based on those judgements. I want to show others that not all is shown at first, and they should know the full event before judging the people in said event.

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awaiting submission xwz

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Örlög’s Hymn

Peter G.

The sidewalks of Novum Eboracum were cracked and littered with rubble from fallen buildings. A diverse crowd was entering the plaza at the center of town, via multiple surrounding tributary roads. The crowd was composed of various species, all of different sizes, ranging from rats to sheep (there were also a few humans), and, despite their biological differences, all lived together harmoniously. One member of the group--a rat--who appeared to be royalty, judging from his purple robe, waddled to the center of the circle to deliver a speech.

“‘When one is faced with a disaster, one mustn’t shrivel up in fear, but must instead work to put a stop to the disaster or to solve the problem,’” the rat king orated. “These are the wise words of my grandfather, King Rat XVIII. They are definitely applicable to our current situation. We must unite even in this time of crisis…” he continued on similarly, occasionally inserting fake tears. 

In the crowd, a human yawned. He was about five foot three with dark hair. Next to him stood another human, who tapped him to wake him from his reverie.

In the meantime, “King Rat XIX” had finished his speech with a dramatic two minutes of yells and battle cries, and members of the crowd burst into song.

There’s nothing left for us to do,

O, great Örlög, save us,

Nothing is normal in our current state, but one thing still rings true:

We will get nowhere and achieve nothing,

Without the help of you.

Here stand ourselves in grave distress,

There’s nothing left for us to do,

O great Örlög, help us clean this mess,

And we shall sacrifice our lives to you.

The song continued on similarly with pleas to Örlög, the god of luck, and immediately the members of the town walked away from the plaza and began assisting each other in the reconstruction of the village.

-=-=***=-=-

Three weeks later, the village of Novum Eboracum was successfully rebuilt and the human who had yawned during King Rat’s speech, Helgi, stood on a freshly paved sidewalk, staring at his house. His friend, Gunnr, who had awakened him during the speech, approached Helgi from behind and muttered to him, “It’s a real wonder we were this successful in the reconstruction.”

“Yes,” muttered Helgi brusquely; he was still staring at the newly built Tudor façade of his home; his efforts in the reconstruction had paid off. Suddenly, bells began ringing frantically in the plaza, startling Helgi and Gunnr. They dashed away from the house toward the town square.

King Rat sat on his throne as a crowd gathered around him. This time, instead of delivering his trademark monologue, he laconically explained the situation:

“Our spies have discovered that the Serpentine Kingdom intends to invade our land.”

The Serpentine Kingdom was an imperialist nation, hundreds of miles away that had invaded multiple other nations. Since its army was comprised entirely of venomous snakes, it made a formidable enemy. However, it was far away, which would give Novum Eboracum time to prepare. 

The crowd surrounding him immediately disbanded into groups based on species. The slow-witted sheep began baa-ing something along the lines of:

“The entire situation is fake; even if it is real, I’m not doing anything to prevent it.”

The restive rats immediately began discussing how to protect their houses in the case of an invasion.

The dogs did not wish to hear any more information on the invasion and covered their ears, walking away. Helgi and Gunnr walked to their homes, staring at the divided crowd. Gunnr sighed.

-=-=***=-=-

The center of town had become a maze of walls around rat-homes and was littered with animals fighting each other. In short, the village was upside-down, but the real changes were yet to come. It all happened on a dark Friday night. 

Helgi paced about the plaza in a pensive mood, eyes piercing the pavement, not bothering to look up until he heard yelling from a few yards away. 

“Hey, you!” sneered a rat at a snake slithering along the ground. “Go back to the Serpentines. We all know you’re allied with them!” 

“I’ve never left this town since my birth,” explained the snake. “How can you possibly believe that I’m affiliated with the Serpentines?”

The rat, however, did not seem to care about the snake’s explanation and promptly lunged at him with the help of some other rats. Since it was night, Helgi could see mere silhouettes of the animals during the brawl, but he could smell the blood on the ground afterward and the results were clear.

Some sheep stood in a corner of the square, taunting the rats. “Calm about the ‘situation’, aren’t you, ratties?!” taunted one sheep, causing the rest to burst into baa-ing.

Unfortunately, this also caused the rats to tackle a group of sheep and bite deep wounds all across their bodies, resulting in the death of twenty sheep. 

As Helgi walked home, he saw the panicking rats, the ignorant sheep, and the dogs, who didn’t want to hear any news about the crisis. He was even more depressed than before, pondering the question, where is the line drawn between panic and anarchy?

-=-=***=-=-

Helgi awoke to a choir of dissonant screams. He threw the covers off his bed and dashed to the window. He saw Gunnr peering out his window from next-door and saw a spectacle below: King Rat laid upon the street in a pool of blood; the rats attacking a group of dogs. He rushed downstairs and out the door to Gunnr’s house. 

“What happened?” he asked, breathless.

“King Rat announced this morning that he would be using the village’s tax money on a new throne room. The rats were furious that he was not spending any money on defense against the Serpentine invasion and decided to kill him. The dogs proceeded to attack the rats for killing their king. Also, the sheep have gathered on the outskirts of town and are taunting the Serpentines. Additionally, the town’s army is furious at the rats for not helping them. They’re protesting outside right now because no one has given them weapons to combat the Serpentines with.”

“Wow.”

Helgi and Gunnr came to the decision that it was unsafe to stay in their own houses and created a shift system in which Helgi would move into Gunnr’s house and they would take turns guarding it.

-=-=***=-=-

It was March eighteenth, and tension was looming above the head of every citizen of Novum Eboracum. It was bound to happen soon. The town’s army could not fight, as nobody would provide them with resources. The rats were locked up in their homes. Even the dim-witted sheep silently quaked with fear on the edges of town as they taunted the Serpentines, who noticed them. The Serpentines came as a green storm; an army of snake limbs and fangs occupying miles of land. The sheep, though, did not notice this and were the first to succumb to the invading force. With a few bites, the entire flock lay dead on the grass-covered ground. Next to die were the rats, whose walls were smashed, and homes destroyed. The dogs, who refused to be informed about the invasion, were out-and-about and were killed.

Helgi and Gunnr, cooped up in the house, watched the events unfold from their window. 

“Gunnr,” whispered Helgi, “we had so many opportunities to prevent this, but we seized none of them.”

Gunnr did not respond to this statement in his own words, but instead, with Örlög’s hymn, this time, sung not together as a community, but  alone and divided:

There’s nothing left for us to do,

O, great Örlög, save us,

Nothing is normal in our current state, but one thing still rings true:

We will get nowhere and achieve nothing,

Without the help of--

Gunnr felt a sticky syrup enter his foot like it had come through a syringe. He collapsed and the snake hissed and slithered to Helgi, who met the same fate.

There truly was nothing left to do.

“Örlög’s Hymn” is a fable of the current state of our nation. It is an allegory of chaos caused by the COVID-19 outbreak. The Serpentines represent COVID-19. The citizens of the town represent different ways people deal with the pandemic. The rats represent panic, the sheep represent disbelief, the dogs represent ignoring current events, and the two humans represent good-natured people caught in the crossfire of the current situation. King Rat represents incompetent leadership, the town army represents healthcare workers who cannot do their jobs because nobody provides them with resources, the snakes represent people blamed for COVID-19 because of their race, the assassinations represent fights between people caused by COVID-19, the death of King Rat represents the failure of leaders to help with crises, and Örlög’s Hymn represents the incompetence of man.

The theme is that crises divide us and make us vulnerable.

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awaiting submission mh

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The Girl Who Rescued the Sun

Renee K.

It was a mundane morning in the Nor Kingdom. It was pitch black when Mura woke up, as always. There was no sun, so not even the slightest sliver of light entered the kingdom. She rolled over and looked at her window, and saw a silvery silhouette of the other side of the castle, but it was blurry and indistinguishable. Mura climbed out of her bed,  making her way across the room, feeling her furniture to get around. She almost stumbled over a pile of clothing. Long before Mura was born, the king had flown up to the Sun and wrapped a heavy, black cloth around it. He had also hid the stars in the cloth. The reason for this was protection. The king and queen, Mura’s parents, restricted anyone from exploring. The Kingdom was all Mura knew. You needed the Sun to explore, for warmth and light. Everyone was forced to stay at home because of this obstacle. It was Mura's dream to explore. She had heard stories of rivers, trees, plants, flowers, hills, and mountains, but she would never see them in real life. Or so she thought. Mura paced back and forth her room, pondering how to get the sun back. Then she had an idea. Mura stumbled out of her room and cautiously moved down the stairs. She went into her father’s room.

“Can we talk?” 

“I’m busy.” He was bent over at a desk, furiously typing and jotting things down, using a powerful headlamp. (Only the king and queen were allowed the privilege of light).

“...It’s important”, said Mura.  He shut off his headlamp and slammed it down on his desk. “What?” Mura took a deep breath. “I want the sun. I want to see all of nature's wonders and explore and-”

The king slammed his fist on the desk, and all the papers hit the floor. “You must stop with this nonsense! The sun will never be a part of your life, Mura. Stop hoping, it will get you nowhere.” 

Disappointed, Mura wiped a tear from her face. She ran out of the room, frustrated. She knew what she had to do. The day passed, but she stayed in her room, keeping track of time by the bells rung by the servants to indicate each hour. When midnight came, Mura grabbed her backpack. She snuck down to the king’s office. He was sleeping soundly. Mura grabbed the headlamp from his desk and using a thumbtack, she opened his safe and took the map showing how to get to the sun. She gave him one last look and went back to her room. She opened the window and jumped out, without giving it a second thought. She landed on the concrete ground and dusted off her knees, feeling scrapes all around herself. She immediatly felt a large slimey hand grab her knee. Turning around, she saw a distorted, red version of her king. 

“Silly girl!”, he bellowed, “To think you could just sneak away!” Mura tried to run away, and she eventually managed to sneak out of his slippery grasp. She turned around, and looked him in his desperate red eyes. 

“Please, Mura!” he cried, “I’m sorry! Come back,” he blubbered. It was then Mura realized. He was trying to hide her, not protect her. He didn’t want her to live to her heart’s intent. Her father began to shrivel up, his head becoming smaller and wrinkly and his flesh became a dull grey. He was turning into a snake, she realized, as thick black stripes formed on his now little body. He coiled up and hissed at Mura, and showed his fangs, as if to warn her. Mura knew his true intent, and she ran away with her bag in her hand. Mura shined the headlamp on the map. It read “Lorn Cabin” which was exactly 100 miles from the castle, and above it a staircase leading to the sun. Determined, she began to run north, the direction of the cabin. After running all night, she fell down on the side of the road, exhausted. She heard a honk and climbed to her feet. She saw a truck pulled over on the side of the road. Terrified, she ran into the woods, but stopped when realizing nobody was chasing her. Maybe, she thought, they want to help me. Mura walked back to the truck and looked inside. She made out the man’s face through lights on the dashboard. He was an old man, with bristle-like grey hair and glasses. 

“Where are you headed?” he pondered. “The sun…” Mura muttured. He smiled, warmly, his eyes bright like the sun.  “The sun? Is that some made up creature?” Mura climbed in the car. “No,” she explained, “It’s a big ball of light. I need to get to the Lorn Cabin.” “Well, I know where that is,” he offered, and they drove off through the hills. Mura fell asleep and dreamed of a world with color and exploration. She was on the right path. 

“Wake up,” he said after hours of driving, nudging her. Mura turned and saw the cabin. “How can I repay you?” Mura asked, feeling guilty of not returning anything. “You don’t have to,” he said.  “Of course I do”, she said, and gave him the headlamp. “Do good with it, it’s rare,” she told him. Confused, he studied the light, as he had never seen so much before.  Then Mura left and headed to the Lorn Cabin. She twisted open the door, slightly nervous. 

“H-hello?” she stammered. She yelled for half an hour, but there was no response. She figured it was abandoned, and trudged upstairs. She went into the first room and lay down on a cardboard textured bed. Tired, Mura drifted off. When she woke up, she felt bedbugs crawling all over her. 

“Gross!” she exclaimed and sat up, brushing them off. She looked at the map once again, and it showed that the stairs leading to the sun were in the attic of the Lorn Cabin. So, she climbed the stairs up to the attic. Soon, she realized she was out of the cabin and in the sky because she felt a breeze of cold air hit her. She felt bliss, as the morning wind blew through her hair. Mura began to see light emanating from the sun. Finally, the glass staircase stopped and she saw the sun, with the black cloth wrapped around it. Mura took the cloth carefully off, and light spread all around. Mura felt heat like never before on her skin. The beautiful little stars dispersed all over the sky. The sun opened her auburn eyes, and she looked thankfully at Mura. The sun opened her mouth and whispered to Mura, “Thank you. So, so, so much.” 

“No,” said Mura, looking all around Earth, at the little pink flowers on the ground, and the trees sprouting up, beneath her, and the waves in the ocean rocking back and forth and the life blossoming everywhere, “Thank you.’’

As you can see, this allegory is about a young girl, Mura who wants to rescue the sun to allow people in the kingdom to explore. Despite her father trying to hold her back, she accomplishes her goal and meets a friend along the way. The young girl symbolizes the youth’s ideas and creativity. The king symbolizes how the older generations try to hold the youth back solely for their age. The kingdom and its housing represent sheltering people from ideas. The old man helping her represents how we can help people and trust they are on a path without background information. Lastly, the sun represents helpfulness and a guide, as if it was present in the kingdom, it would use its heat and warmth to guide people as they travel. The moral of the story is how older people look down on the youth’s ideas simply because of their age. This is not a good mindset because sometimes young people have the best ideas. 

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How the Rose Changed Perspectives

June L. 

In a large garden, there was a rose. Her name was Maybelle. 

Everyday, she prances on the neon grass and welcomes any newborn flowers. She is one of the friendliest flowers in the garden, and everyone adored her. Maybelle didn’t particularly mind any flowers’ opinions, because she was living her life to the fullest. 

Maybelle's family lived in a garden near a stone wall, in the depths of the garden, along with other roses. Everyone is made up of bright red and pink petals. Older roses were a light shade of red and the younger were a shade of pink. Most roses looked so identical some couldn’t even tell them apart! 

Now, Maybelle is quite different from the other roses. Her petals were lime green. No one knew how her petals came to be, but Maybelle didn’t mind. She stood out from everyone. While every rose was of bright red, she was the color of the neon grass fields. 

“If you’re going to have green petals, at least make it a pretty shade,” a rose laughed. “She belongs to the ground, with the roots.” 

The only place she could go was to the garden. It was her safe space and the only place where she can be herself. She never felt too insecure to show her lime green petals or plaster a smile on her face. Maybelle could never do that at home or around the other roses.  

Her friends, Wynter and Deborah always reassured her that she was beautiful no matter what and she shouldn’t let those comments get to her. 

She tried not to think about it too much, so she went about her day. 

Her most treasured place in the whole garden is the grass field near the plant pots. Maybelle always goes there to relax or dance like nobody’s watching. Whenever she feels stressed, she sprints to the grass field to contemplate her never-ending thoughts. 

After picking a few flowers, Maybelle took a relaxing amble back to the rose garden. A few roses were also going back. Maybelle overheard their conversation. 

“Did you hear about the green rose? If I had those colored petals, I would be ashamed to even get out of my room!” 

At this point, Maybelle was numb from all of the remarks that are made about her. She walked slower but this time, distancing herself away from other roses. 

As soon as Maybelle got home, she went to her room and put down the flowers. She peeked outside of her room to see what everyone was doing. It seemed as if everyone was down at the bottom throwing a party. 

If I blend in with the others at the party maybe the roses won’t notice me, Maybelle thought. 

So she grabbed a red sparkling dress, which complimented her green petals, and a simple gold necklace that she bought from a jewelry shop in the garden. Maybelle fancied up her petals to have a more glamoured look. Finally, she added a bright red bow so her green petals wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention. 

She walked out of her room, anxious but confident. Maybelle was a few steps down and she can already hear the astronomical music coming from the dj. The entrance of the party was dazzled up with ribbons of lilac and cerulean. It was beautiful and caught everyone’s eyes. 

She grabbed a drink at a table near the entrance and proceeded to walk toward the dance floor. A few roses bumped into Maybelle and knocked some splashes of her drink from the cup. She didn’t mind, although she would prefer if everyone was more cautious. 

She went to a nearby table and found a place to put down her beverage and handbag. 

I probably look like a hopeless loner, she thought. But she didn’t think too much of it, because she was just trying to have fun. Maybelle was looking all over the room until she spotted her friend, Wynter in a bedazzled white gown, at the food table. She proceeded to walk up to Wynter to tell her how the party was going. However her heels started to feel loose and Maybelle tripped over her own feet, bumping into Wynter and causing her to spill her tray all over the food table. A few splashes of sauce landed on some roses’ dresses. 

“I am so sorry Wynter! I really didn’t mean to knock the plate out of your hands,” exclaimed Maybelle, while she was cleaning up the table. 

“It’s okay Maybelle, we all make mistakes. Plus, this is not too bad of a mess, we can just clean it up with a few towels and wet wipes,” suggested Wynter. 

Maybelle was down to her last wipe and went to her handbag to grab some more wipes. When she got to her table, Tiffany was standing there.

“What is a pathetic rose like you doing at this party? This party is for people who can show their true colors, which clearly you can’t do. Oh right, I forgot, you're not a true rose with all the green sticking out,” Tiffany sneered as she shoved Maybelle and walked away. 

Maybelle felt as if she had been run over by a truck, rushed to the bathroom and started bawling her eyes out. Wynter followed behind her tail and went to the stalls to look for her. 

“Maybelle! Are you in here?” Wynter exclaimed. 

“I’m in here,” Maybelle sniffled, as she was about to break down even more. 

Wynter found her in the last stall and comforted her.

“Don’t let what Tiffany said get into your head!” Wynter told Maybelle as she wiped down the tears on Maybelle’s cheek. 

“You are stronger than any rose I’ve ever met and I couldn’t be more than glad to defend you, ” Wynter reminded Maybelle. 

“How did I ever get to have a friend like you?” Maybelle asked, as she dove in for a hug. 

“Let’s walk out there like the baddest flowers out there, and remember, don’t let them get to you!” 

“Wait, Let me fix up my face first,” Maybelle retorted as she touched up her face once again and walked out of the bathroom stall. 

Maybelle walked out of the bathroom stalls and back into the party room, feeling like a queen, along with her best friend, Wynter. As they went back to their table to talk, Maybelle felt much better about herself. 

Time passed by quickly, and Maybelle felt the need to do something important. 

“Hey Wynter, I’m going to get a drink. Be right back!” 

Instead of getting the drink, she walked up the stage and grabbed the mic from the dj.  

“Hi everyone. As you all know, I am not the color of a regular rose. My petals are, in fact, lime green. That’s my true color and I am proud of it. I know it may seem strange because roses are supposed to be red or pink. However, I am proud of the way I look, and so should any other roses that are just like me! It is important to embrace our differences.” 

As she said this, a few roses showed their true appearances and some people were shocked, including Maybelle. 

Wow, I thought I was the only one who was like this. 

Maybelle continued, “Everyone has their flaws, and nobody's perfect. We should all be able to accept that. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. You are beautiful, inside and out.” 

Now this time, instead of getting made fun of, everyone applauded and cheered for Maybelle. 

As days progressed, Maybelle started to see more and more colored roses embrace their petals. Not a single rose was shy or scared of being picked on. Even the roses who were rude to Maybelle, are now nicer to her. Everyone in the rose garden is now able to go out and enjoy their lives, all thanks to Maybelle. 

This story is my allegory because it resembles superficial judgement. Today, a handful of people are afraid to step outside their homes because of the comments they (could) get for their appearances. Maybelle had different colored petals and it was considered “unusual”. This references how people make rude comments about one’s features. The truth is, no one is perfect, and everyone has their own flaws. “You should eat more” or “You can’t go outside wearing that” is not something we should be saying in our society. Everyone has different preferences and opinions. People don’t notice how their words can hurt people and it damages the community. Some people can be so numb, where they can’t even feel emotions, like how Maybelle didn’t care what anyone said anymore. This represents our society because it projects the idea that people only care about their own opinions and are not considerate of others. 

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Food for Thought

Valeria P.

Basil hung up his apron on the hook as he left the factory he worked at. His boss said he couldn’t pay him for another week, and who was Basil to argue? So he slowly walked down the dark alley back to his place that reeked of garbage. Then, his nose filled with the most scrumptious aroma, the one he looked forward to smelling each day as he walked to and from work. It was the light in his gray world. Le Lieu de Fromage, the most high-end, expensive restaurant Basil had ever seen, was just around the corner from his home. He peeked through the windows to watch all the mice eating there, wearing their fancy clothes, and speaking the most refined English. Of all the places Basil had seen or heard of, this restaurant was the one place he wanted to go. What was on the menu today? Brie? Camembert? Whatever it was, it had the most aromatic smell. For a second, Basil’s eyes glimmered, but then reality hit him. He would never be able to afford such a meal, and even if he could, they would never let a rat like himself inside (unless he was rich, of course.) 

Basil continued down the street. The lamplighters lit the street lamps and he realized the sun had almost set. How could it be dark already? Basil ran home as fast as he could. He couldn’t be late! The power turned off at seven and he had to bathe and prepare dinner before then. Basil rammed through the crowd, trying to get home. Suddenly, he tripped, falling flat on his face. He stood up, rubbing his sore nose as he noticed something glistening in the sooty gray snow. He reached his paw into the snow and pulled out a large silver coin,  a one-pound sterling! With a coin worth so much, Basil could now afford his dream. He could not only pay for a luxury meal from Le Lieu de Fromage, but he could also purchase the most opulent tuxedo from the tailor!

Basil rushed home, ran to his bathtub, and filled it up with as much water as he could before the power cut out. He undressed and washed up, rubbing all the soot from his paws and whiskers. He dried off and ran out the door, grabbing his prized coin and dashing to the tailor. As the door opened, a little bell rang, alerting the clerk at the counter.

“Hello, sir. How may I help-” The clerk looked at Basil “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have any fabric to spare.”

Basil approached the counter. “I’m ‘ere to buy a suit,” he spoke in his strong cockney accent, trying to suppress it to seem dignified. “What d’you got?” 

The clerk smirked. “Are you sure you can afford it? I can show you our less expensive collection, but I cannot cut the price for you.”

Basil came up to a mannequin and felt the fabric of the suit. “This one looks aight. I’ll take it.” He looked up at the clerk who was pulling suits from a rack. 

“The ones on display are half a pound. You couldn’t afford it,” the clerk said, eyeing Basil. 

The rat flicked the coin towards the clerk. “I said I’ll take it,” he said.

The clerk apologized as he placed the coins into the suit pocket. He then began wrapping up the suit in parchment. He delicately removed the tag and then handed the suit to Basil.

“You got a fittin’ room?” Basil asked the clerk just as he was about to help the next client.

“Yes sir, just to the left,” the clerk replied. “Please don’t leave a mess,” he added before turning back to the mouse who had walked in. 

Basil changed into his brand new suit. He glanced at himself through the looking glass. He licked his paw and slicked back his hair, admiring his dashing new self. He took a deep breath and walked out the door of the fitting room, then the store. The bells jingled again as the door slowly shut. As he walked to the restaurant, Basil practiced what he would say. He tried to speak just like the rich mice that ate at Le Lieu de Fromage, with crisp and clean English and vocabulary like out of a dictionary. If he spoke with a lowly accent as the rats did on the street, all the mice would turn their heads, and Basil would be the laughing stock at the restaurant. He stopped at the wide glass doors and mumbled his order to himself one last time before stepping inside. 

“Hello monsieur, may I take your jacket?” asked the small mouse at the door.

Basil removed his jacket and tossed it at the maitre d’, just as he had seen the other mice do. He was led to a round table near the window. He looked out onto the street he had walked on every day. It looked different now, like a completely new city. It wasn’t the same London he had lived in, it was better.  He was now part of a whole new world with the rich and respected.The smoke-filled sky now looked bluer, the gray ice on the streets looked softer, not like the ice he fell on just an hour ago. He was handed a large menu with a list of cheeses he couldn’t pronounce. But he continued to repeat his order in his head. He couldn’t mess it up, he just couldn’t.

A mouse wearing a black tailcoat with a golden handkerchief approached Basil. “Hello, sir. Welcome to Le Lieu de Fromage,” he uttered as he poured red wine into the crystal glass on the table, “Have you decided on your meal?”

Basil looked up. “Yes. I shall have your best cheese.”

“What a peculiar accent.” The waiter looked at Basil. “You know, you look like that rat who stares at the restaurant every evening.”

Basil looked down and the waiter walked away. He sipped his wine and watched the mice sitting at the other tables. They too looked different. They seemed closer, even though all that kept them apart before was a sheet of glass. After a long wait, the waiter brought out a platter of moldy cheese. 

“Our finest cheese, sir, Formaggio con vermi. It is an Italian delicacy, cheese with maggots.” The waiter declared, refilling the wine glass.

The maggots crawled within the cheese. How could one be expected to eat this? It is absolutely repulsive! However, it was worth a try. He took a fork, punctured the soft cheese, and slowly brought it to his mouth, trying not to think about the bugs crawling within it. Finally, he took a bite, slowly chewed, and suddenly felt his stomach churn. That was the worst food he had ever eaten in his life. He tried his best to hold back his tears. He wasn’t tearing up because he felt the bugs crawling in his mouth, but because he was so heartbroken. He spent the majority of his life dreaming of this moment, hoping he can be like the mice he had seen inside every day, and finally when he got the time and the money to eat at Le Lieu de Fromage, it was awful! He could have spent this money on so many other things that would make a difference in his life, but instead, he came here, a place that served cheese with maggots. 

This allegory is meant to represent the fact that not everything will be as good as we imagine. Our dreams and hopes are often formed focusing on only the positives of the event. For example, if you wish to go to space and be an astronaut, you might imagine seeing the Earth from far away or being in zero gravity. However,  you don’t think about the fact that you’ll be away from your family, that it is extremely dangerous and one malfunction can kill you, or that it requires extreme amounts of training and exercise to prepare. Therefore, it’s easy for our dreams to be disappointing. We might only see the best in something, which is why it’s not how we expect. In addition, the story has subtle hints of rats vs. mice, showing the separate world between high-class and low-class people. The mice were rich and respected, and the rats were poor and looked down upon.  This shows how many privileges the higher class people get, while those who really need the opportunities are tossed aside. We can see in the beginning of the story how Basil’s boss wouldn’t pay him again, and Basil couldn’t even stand up for himself in fear of losing his job to a mouse, just because the mouse is, well, a mouse. 

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The Planetarium

Jesaiah R.

As the class loaded into the cheese bus, John and his hooligans were making a ruckus. His clan began making so much noise Mrs. Maine considered kicking them off the bus, however, of course, she never said that to them. It always led to being called by Johns’s parents and being threatened to sue or get her fired. She always feared a life without teaching and Lydia knew that best. Lydia was always such a snake and Mrs. Maine almost sued her for defamation of character and harassment, yet never went through with it due to the fear of her losing her job and losing everything she ever loved. When the whole class was on the bus, she went through with the usual procedure but was completely exhausted due to her lack of sleep last night. Mrs. Maine didn’t especially care for this procedure and ended up just speeding through it so they could finally go to the planetarium. Little did she know that would be one of the worst mistakes of her life. 

They all unloaded onto the Planetarium steps and Mrs. Maine thought the children were especially quiet today, even after the ruckus while loading the kids on the bus, but she just assumed they were tired. They walked on and had an amazing time on the trip. Mrs. Maine had learned so much about the solar system and had hoped the children had as well. So to test this theory, she searched for John and his hooligans, but to her horror, they were nowhere in sight. She began searching far and wide along with the chaperones to no avail. Mrs. Maine ultimately ended up suspending the trip for the time being so they could search for the four. Luckily, one of his friends, Melvin, was found and was interrogated as to what the current location of the children was. For a while, it seemed like Melvin was useless until he finally budged and told the teachers the children’s plan. He elaborated that the three would stay on the bus and see where it got them. They knew they could get away with it since Mrs. Maine never counted the children after she left the bus. 

Mrs. Maine began panicking and blaming herself for being so lazy and irresponsible, yet the children out of the blue began to comfort her and attempted to help. No one knew the bus number and she couldn’t call the school or the police because she would end up without a job. Children began calling John and the other two but none of them answered. Mrs. Maine was so loved among the children for her kindness and leniency with homework and other issues regarding work, that the kids couldn’t see another teacher teaching their class. The children and Maine did everything in their power to prevent the loss of their favorite teacher, but Mrs. Maine being fired was inevitable. Everyone savored their last moments with Mrs. Maine before she needed to call the police. Coppers ended up arriving at the scene quickly, and John was ultimately found at another school in the district that also had a trip. Once John was finally found, the class went back to school and said their final farewell to Mrs. Maine. She was called up to the principal’s office and was terminated from the workforce. 

Mrs. Maine was in a deep depression for a few months and did not have a clue as to where she would take her life after teaching. After all, this was the third job she was fired from. Her husband and family were deeply worried but could not reach out because Mrs. Maine wouldn’t allow them. Mrs. Maine was on a downward spiral until one morning, she looked at herself in the mirror, a nervous wreck that did nothing with her life. Mrs. Maine’s face crinkled in disgust as she finally decided to turn her life around. Mrs. Maine was finally given the confidence and motivation she needed for the past few months. She went back to college to pursue a career in medical sciences and received her diploma. She ended up working at Mount Sinai Hospital, one of the largest in New York and Mrs. Maine was thriving. She bought a penthouse in Manhattan and was in the best financial situation of her life. Her husband was the happiest he’d ever been and everything seemed fine. This was until Mrs. Maine saw Lydia on the street one day. The tension between them could fill a volcano and Lydia scolded Maine on her irresponsibility and how she would never amount to anything. This set Mrs. Maine off to the maximum and was not about to let Lydia take anything more from her. 

Mrs. Maine sued Lydia for defamation of character and harassment after all these years for harassing her that day and the countless days before. When she told the board of Cybersox that Mrs. Maine had been taking petty cash and was making the company lose money. Those terrible days before her termination that Lydia would laugh “I’m getting your job.” The day the board called her in for a crime she never committed and the day she had to tell her husband she was fired and finally, the day she had to see Lydia in that office instead of her. This had all accumulated to the point where Mrs. Maine couldn’t take it anymore and sued her for everything she ever did to her. Mrs. Maine ended up winning the case and along with that $800,000 in damages. 

Maine went up to Lydia when the case was closed and told her “Thanks for everything.” She walked off into the sunset with her husband and took one last look at the woman that almost ruined her life a third time, got in her car, and laughed.

The Planetarium is a story depicting a woman with all the odds against her fighting against society and her own issues, such as finding a stable career, having Lydia there to ruin her life all the time, and making reckless mistakes that cause her own downfall. Ultimately she ends up fixing everything over time and ends up thriving in life. This represents a theme of perseverance and pushing forward even when it seems impossible and all the odds are against you.

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A Lesson From the Rich

Sophie V.

Lucy, Cleo, Ben, Layla, and Willy were all in the same second-grade class. Each day of school was about the same. They would have a math, english, history, science, and a recreational class, along with lunch. Lunch was split in two: one half for eating, and the other for recess. There were a plethora of available activities the children could pursue, however three were the most sought after: jump roping, hopscotch, and basketball. The closet in the classroom held seven jump ropes and three basketballs, and the courtyard had three different hopscotch courts and the almost completely washed away remains of children’s attempts to draw their own. With 26 five year olds in the kindergarten class, there was simply not enough of the favored equipment for everyone. Now, after being let out of lunch slightly late, the children were lined up outside and were about to be dismissed to play. Ben liked to play hopscotch, Willy usually played with the jump ropes, and Cleo and Layla liked to play basketball. “Okay. You guys can go play now,” Ms.Whittey said and drifted off to a bench to grade some spelling tests. The children ran off to the equipment they wanted to use and started grabbing at it. Cleo managed to take one of the basketballs that had now been set on the ground and rejoiced for a moment in her luck. She held it up in the air. “Layla! Look!” Layla turned to look and jumped and clapped at their victory, having not been able to get a ball for the past three days. Liam, a large, stocky boy, hopped up to reach Cleo’s arms and smacked the ball out of her hand. The ball hit the ground and he took it and ran to his group of friends, laughing. “Hey,” Layla shouted. “That was our ball!” Liam and his friends laughed. “Then why is it in my hand.” They chortled more and threw their heads back. “Come on,” he said to his friends, and he walked off sneering at Layla. Her nostrils were flared and she was leaning forward, as though ready to fight. Cleo walked up to her and watched them stalk off. “It’s fine Layla. We’ll get a ball tomorrow.” Cleo took her wrist and dragged her to the plastic box filled with broken chalk. Liam and his friends had managed to get two balls and were taking turns shooting the balls in the four foot tall hoop. The small group of children who had the last basketball were standing off to the side waiting to be given a turn. “It’s not fair,” Layla said and returned to drawing her name in purple chalk. Meanwhile, at the hopscotch courts, Ben was trying to reason with a stubborn child by the name of Joshua. After everyone had been told they could play, they rushed off to the small cluster of three, blue and yellow  hopscotch courts where children were already lined up to go. There were around four kids per line and they were running smoothly. A child would hop across, generally with the wrong moves, and would go to the back of the same line. When it was Joshua’s turn, he jumped and spread his legs across two of the courts and put his hands on his hips. Everyone on one of the lines groaned. “Move Joshua,” Ben said, tired of his obnoxious art partner. “No,” he replied grinning. Everyone groaned again. Ben, now irritated, stormed in front of him. He leaned into Joshua. “GET OUT THE WAY!” Joshua’s grin faltered, but he stood, defiant. Ben tried the calm approach. “Joshua, please move.” Every child stretched their necks waiting to hear what Joshua  would do, but he stood on the courts without a word. “Whatever,” Ben said and walked to the one court that stayed running, most everyone following. He looked at Joshua and his bright yellow shirt with disgust. The child was still standing there, even after people had stopped giving him attention, but Ben could see he was getting bored. After all of the children came to one line, the wait to go on the hopscotch court even once was much too long. Ben stepped off of it and looked around the courtyard. All of the other equipment was being used, so with a sigh, he walked to the box of chalk and sat next to Cleo and Layla. When the children were allowed to play, Willy ran to the bench the jump ropes were put on. A group of kids had already surrounded it and were trying to wrestle them from one another. Before the boy could get through, the jump ropes were gone. He noticed Gwenyth, a relatively tall girl, had three of them. She was in the process of knotting them together in an effort to make one long jump rope. Willy carefully approached her and stood in front waiting for her to look at him. “Hi Gwen,” Willy said meekly. “I-I like your hair,” he stuttered. Gwen looked down at him and smiled. “Awww. Thank you!” Willy decided to continue. “I was wondering if I could use one of those jump ropes since you have three.” Gwenyth stayed quiet. “Also, I brought those on the first day of school so it’s not really fair-” Gwenyth smiled alarmingly wide, making Willy stop speaking. “But Willy, I want to use these, so don’t you think you should let me. Please?” She smiled again and tilted her head to the side. “Nevermind,” Willy said, and he walked off. He looked around for something else to do, only to find that everything was being used. He begrudgingly walked to the chalk box and sat across from his three classmates that were already there.

Ben broke the silence among the four of them, who all happened to be the assigned cleaners in the class. “Don’t you just hate bullies.” Layla smacked down her purple chalk, and it broke on the gravel. “Yes! They think they own everything and can do whatever they want.” “It’s not fair,” Ben muttered. “We should stand up to them,” Layla said and they drifted into another silence. Lucy, Cleo, Ben, Layla, Noah, and Willy spent the rest of their lower school days being forced to do what they did not want to do and being deprived of enjoyment and happiness because of the selfish and inconsiderate people around them. Liam grew up to play basketball in high school because he started so early, but Cleo and Layla were never able to pursue that. Willy learned to be afraid of asking anything even if they were within their rights, and Ben became angry at even the smallest inconvenience. They all learned, however, that you cannot expect people to do the right thing even when they are able to. 

This was meant to be an allegory for starvation and poverty. The class was meant to symbolize the world, and the children were meant to symbolize the different groups of people. I used recess as the basis of the plot because, if I remember kindergarten correctly, that is where students were supposed to share. I used hopscotch, jump roping, and basketball to represent food and different resources in general. When Cleo and Layla had the basketball taken from them and were forced to draw with chalk and when Willy was not allowed to use the jump ropes he brought in, that was representing people who suffer that had things taken from them by those who prosper. Liam and his friends having two basketballs that they did not need and Joshua blocking two hopscotch courts was representing the people who have an abundance of food and money, but refuse to help. Layla mentioning standing up to bullies is meant to symbolize that one day the impoverished might go to war with the wealthy. The fact that the four protagonists are the assigned cleaners in their class is meant to show that the poor often do the jobs the rich do not want to do. The conclusion, wherein the lessons each child learned are shared shows that those who are raised wealthy have a head start in life and that those who grow up in poverty suffer more and learn to expect less. The theme or moral of the story is to share whenever you are able to, which proves to be something many people have yet to do.

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Begonia

Wan Yin W.

Bees buzzed and zapped from flower to flower in a garden of fragrant blooms. The bees came and went, extracting pollen and returning to their homes. From afar, the begonias watched the little insects swarm around the other flowers, their hearts wilting knowing that they'll never receive such attraction.

As the sun awakened, so did a certain begonia. Behind her, another bloom sighed. "Today is another wonderful day, isn't it, Begonia? Lacking attention from the bees is certainly fun. I wonder how long this will continue until we are plucked from the garden like feathers of a chicken...." 

"Oh, good morning to you, too. Our kind won't be ignored much longer, don't worry. Today, I plan to ask the other flowers for advice. We will finally obtain business from the bees!" Begonia responded with enthusiasm.

"A smart little flower like you shouldn't waste your time with these silly schemes," the flower muttered.

Just then, the humans arrived at the garden. Scattering among the flowers like bees, they each carried watering pots. The begonias received their daily shower, sighing in relief after being rejuvenated by the cool sprinkle.

One by one, they shuffled back into the greenhouse just as fast and orderly as they came. After the last human closed the door, Begonia set out to the lilacs. They weren't very far; lilacs were the begonias' neighbors. Begonia waddled over with her bundle of bright flowers and mound of roots. Just as she was about to brush a lilac with her leaf, she was shoved aside by another. "Hey! Watch where you're going, little flower! Us lilacs need space!" the rude bloom exclaimed.

"S-sorry, sir. I just wanted to request some advice from you," Begonia whimpered. 

"Sure, what is it? I might be able to help you-- Hey, can you move out of the way? Your stupid wilting petals are blocking me!" Lilac responded before being interrupted by another lilac, who he knocked away.

"Um... How do you attract so many of those little creatures?" Begonia queried.

"Wel-." Before Lilac could finish his sentence, he was thrusted away by the other lilacs. Lost in a bundle of purple, the flower disappeared. "I must not give up hope," Begonia said to herself. She sighed and continued on her journey. She trotted over to the lavenders, dodging the small glistening puddles of water leftover from a few days ago. I'm surprised I can hear my own thoughts in the midst of the lilacs' yelling and arguments, Begonia thought. 

At last, the bloom reached her destination. Despite her bright colors, the lavenders did not notice Begonia. Some were bent down, their beautiful purple buds staring into the mirror-like puddles. "I'm so gorgeous...." muttered some lavenders. It was quite silent in this portion of the garden, besides the buzzing of the bees. 

Begonia stumbled upon a lavender who was admiring his reflection in yet another blob of water. He was a beautiful bloom, a long green stem decorated with leaves. "H-hello, sir?" Begonia whispered hesitantly. There was no response, as the flower was too immersed into looking at his beauty to listen. Begonia repeated herself, nudging Lavender with her leaf this time.

"Why, hello, little flower. I didn't see you there," Lavender sang after glancing at Begonia. His petals turned back to the reflection and so did his attention.

"How are you so popular with the bees? Us begonias attract little to none each year...." Begonia asked, poking Lavender once more.

"We lavenders are beautiful and luscious. Of course we'd attract bees! I mean, have you seen our grand petals? Even if you had petals as attractive as mine, you wouldn’t want those annoying little pests; they always cover my buds!" the purple flower answered. Just as he turned his buds back to the puddle, another lavender tugged his leaves.

"My friend, some blooms found a huge puddle over there! You've got to see how we look!" the flower's buddy shouted excitedly. 

Before he was dragged away by the other bloom, Lavender told Begonia, "Just go back to your patch and look pretty! You must be lucky that the other flowers take care of those disgusting bugs for you!" With that, Lavender was gone.

"There's only one more patch left...." Begonia mumbled. She slumped through lanes of vain lavenders and to the wisteria trees. Bees bounced from one wisteria bud to another, in a trance from their aromas. The most revered flowers of the garden, the wisteria, hang from the branches of those trees. Begonia noticed one wisteria tree whose flowers sunk lower than the rest as she looked up at the tall buds. 

"Is everything okay, flower?" she questioned.  "Yeah, I'm fine.... Even if I'm not okay, I can't tell anyone," Wisteria replied. "Why is that?" Begonia asked. After a pause, she supposed, "Hey, It's okay to vent once in a while. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone what you say to me."

"You promise..?""Of course!" Begonia ensured, wiggling a bud to make a petal promise with Wisteria.

"Alright then.... My family says I need to be a strong wisteria. I must not disappoint them," the bloom stated reluctantly. "Well, what does 'being strong' mean to them?" “I cannot show my tears, my sadness, my weaknesses."“That's not okay.""I can't do anything about it, though."

“Yes, you can. You shouldn't have to suppress your emotions just because you were born a wisteria." Wisteria paused before making her response, "Even so, I shouldn't be a baby in front of others."  "Expressing your emotions does not mean you are a baby; it means you're a living being," Begonia explained. She persisted on helping Wisteria throughout the rest of the day. Soon, the sun was resting and the orange and blue sky was splattered with streaks of pink. 

"Hey, Begonia. You should leave soon, it's getting dark," Wisteria told her new friend. "By the way, why did you bring your little self here?" the purple flower queried. "Ah, I was going to request advice from your kind. I wanted to know how begonias could gain more attention from bees," Begonia answered. "I might be able to help you with that, Begonia," Wisteria offered.

"Little begonia flower! You better go back home before it becomes pitch black! Hurry, the sun's almost down!" a wisteria tree shouted.

With a small "good night," Begonia then returned to her patch, and fell asleep. The next day, she woke up to the sound of buzzing and the sight of bees extracting pollen from her patch. The insects flew from flower to flower, finally giving the begonias some recognition.  After her shower, Begonia travelled to the wisterias once again with bees following her petals every step of the way. She consulted her friend, asking why bees are now attracted to begonias.

"As a thanks for your help, I requested that the bees would direct themselves to you," Wisteria explained. "My kind is well respected in this garden, so of course they agreed."

From then on, begonias received business from the bees. There was equality for all the types of flowers.

This allegory centers around a begonia flower, who represents females in society, especially in work. She was under-looked and did not attract many bees, the amount of bees the flowers attracted defined their worth. Women are underpaid no matter how hard they work in some parts of society such as a workplace, just like how the begonias attracted an underwhelming amount of bees.

Begonia sought advice from the other flowers, who represent different parts of men in a society. She wanted to know how she could be good enough for the bees, since she was born a non-fragrant flower. She could not change her identity or kind, much like how a woman could not become a man. The lilacs represent those who are desperate to be the center of attention. 

The lavenders represent the boosted egos of some males, just because of their gender. They were so proud of themselves because of how they looked and what they were, not much to their personalities. The wisterias are important ones, because they represent toxic masculinity. Wisteria believed that she could not show her weakness because she had to be like a wisteria. That type of flower represents strength and independence, which are some characteristics a “manly” person has. A lot of males feel the need to suppress certain emotions and not be “weak” in order to be masculine. 

Begonia did not give up on helping Wisteria, and they eventually bonded. As a thanks for helping her, Wisteria tried convincing the bees to extract pollen from the begonias. Eventually, the begonias started receiving bees at their fields. The peace in this garden tells the message that we can indeed make the system more fair; we can reach equality between women and men. In summary, this allegory represents the weaknesses of both genders in our society. It teaches about the unfairness in the way women are treated.

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A Faded Corpse

Rebecca Z.

“Elora, are you sure about this? This can be dangerously bad for your health.” Virginia Blackwood stared at her daughter anxiously as she was dressing her. “I’m fine, Mommy,” Elora stated excitedly. “It’s like I haven’t seen the sun in years!” “Alright then, sweetie. I’m most definitely worried about you since the park is a very big place, but if you ever get lost, just sit down, rest, and wait for your father and me to find you.” “No problem! You can count on me!”

Six-year-old Elora Blackwood was a homeschooled child that was diagnosed with Crohn's disease at the age of three. Crohn's disease is a bowel disease that is diagnosed with many different symptoms, including fever, diarrhea, weight loss, and can lead to skin rashes, fatigue, and arthritis. Elora had received it at a very young age, and constantly received visits from the doctors. Not only that, she had asthma as well. It was no surprise that she had overprotective parents especially since she was an only child and had forbidden her from going outside for fear that an accident may come upon her. Elora was mainly bored, but she listened to her parents and even tried to help comfort them when times were unfortunate. She learns quickly, and she does everything the way others would have wanted it to. She was like the perfect, golden child that every parent would have wanted. 

Virginia started to comb her hair. Elora suddenly felt a knot in it, and she squirmed in pain even though her mother ran the comb through it very gently. “Elora, sit still. If you move, it will only be worse.” Her lulling voice calmed the young girl. It was the type of voice that Elora would always listen to. Virginia, who was trying to not think the worst things that could happen, took a deep breath and tied her daughter’s hair into a ponytail. “Alright, then. Let’s head outside. Your father is waiting.” “Okay, Mommy.”Elora walked out, followed by Virginia. A man was already waiting for them.

Casimir Blackwood looked at his watch. You could tell that he was just trying to hide his emotions. His face was filled with regret as Elora dashed past him and opened the car door, scrambling inside quicker than both parents thought. Casimir looked back at Virginia in worry as he adjusted Elora’s booster seat and helped her buckle up. 

Casimir tried to focus on the drive to the park, while Virginia checked the list of supplies. Meanwhile, Elora looked out the window, marveling over the scenery outside. The drive would take at least ten minutes to get there, but Elora didn’t really care about the time. Instead, she kept asking questions such as, “Are we there yet?” or “How much longer?” which didn’t really leave much of an answer other than “Almost there” of “Just a couple of minutes away.” 

After what seemed like forever to Elora, she heard her father reply, “We’re here. Virginia, can you double check the trunk so that we have all the supplies?” Elora quickly struggled to get off of the booster seat. “Elora, don’t go anywhere.” “Okay,” she responded disappointingly. She sat back down and looked at the park from her window instead. She was amazed at what she saw. The park looked so inviting, she completely forgot what she was supposed to do. It had stoney paths, water fountains, and lots and lots of trees. She saw a weird-looking switch on the side of the car. She flicked it, and-

“CASIMIR!!!” Virginia screamed. “I CAN’T FIND OUR WATER SUPPLY!” A couple of heads turned into her direction, and the mother ducked her head with embarrassment. Casimir sighed. “I put it behind the sandwiches. Here, let me show you.” The door opened with a click. Elora’s eyes shined as the car door on her side was unlocked. She took off her seatbelt the way her father did when he went out to help her mother. She tripped over and breathed heavily as she stood back up. Her parents ignored the sounds from Elora, giving the little girl an opportunity to head towards the woods.

Being someone who had never gone outside, little Elora had no idea how spooky the woods can be. She didn’t hesitate for even a moment as she quickly ran into the center of the forest. She completely forgot about her asthma and to her dismay, tripped over a large tree branch. The fall scraped her knee so badly, it started to bleed. Poor Elora didn’t know how bad her situation was, as she had never gone outside (since she had a private doctor to check on her occasionally) and was only a six-year-old. Elora tried to calm herself down from the excruciating pain and sat down, but she struggled to breathe. She fumbled with the inhaler in her pocket and pressed it as she breathed in deeply. She felt better, but only a little. Elora was still scared from the experience, and wondered if her parents would ever find her. The little girl burst into sobs. What if they wouldn’t find her? What if she would be all alone in the dark, scary forest? She suddenly remembered what her mother told her as she helped her get ready. “Just sit down, rest, and wait,” her mother had said. “Okay, Mommy,” Elora whispered as tears streamed down her face. “I’ll do that. I’ll sit. I’ll rest and wait. Just please, please find me.” And just like that, she cried herself to sleep.

Elora woke up with the moonlight shining on her face. Why did she feel so uncomfortable? This was nothing like her room. She then remembered all that had happened in the last few hours. Although she had wanted to go and look for the exit, she listened to her mother’s advice and decided to lie down next to the tree. All of a sudden, an extremely bright light came from Elora’s right. The light looked like a flashlight, and Elora thought she could hear her mother’s voice calling her. “Mommy? Is that you? Have you found me?” Elora called, hoping that she could hear it once more. The trees swayed against the wind, imitating Virginia’s lulling voice, letting Elora believe that her mother was calling her. “Mommy!” She shouted happily as she ran towards the light. But the light looked as if it kept moving farther and farther away from her as she progressed through the forest. Elora couldn’t tell that it was just the moonlight, as she had never been so close to a full moon. Elora ran so fast she didn’t pay any attention to her heaving breaths. If she was going through her final moments, she thought, she would spend them with her family. She then felt a sharp pain in her chest, followed by another, and another. It was so painful she couldn’t move, and fell to the ground. She gasped and reached for her inhaler, but couldn’t find it. It must have fallen out of her pocket while she was running. But Elora didn’t give up. She knew she was going to die, so if anyone would find her, she would leave a message. She took the nearest stick and scraped against the dirt, spelling out It’s me, Elora. By the time you read this, I’ll be sitting here dead. Elora gave one last hiccup, and died almost immediately after she had written her message.

“Are there any clues where she went?” Police officer Anson looked at Elora’s worried father. Her mother had already fainted from the news that it had been several hours and there was still no sight of her. “Sir, we found a patch of blood near the center of the woods. It’s not likely, but we think she may have passed this direction,” one of the policemen replied, holding a syringe that contained a few dots of blood. “Luckily we have flashlights to help us.”

“All right then. Stacey and Morris, watch over Mrs. Blackwood. Mr. Blackwood and I will go with the search team to look for any more traces of the missing girl.” “Got it, sir.”

The search team walked quickly to the center of the woods. They were alert, despite their tired looks. Suddenly, Casimir spotted something. “Look! An inhaler! And footprints! It looks just like my daughter’s. We must be going in the right direction.” Anson agreed. “These footprints look fresh- almost like she just came by here. We should be getting closer.” The team walked on for about another three minutes, and found Elora’s message. “It’s her handwriting,” the father whispered. Casimir and the entire search team were shocked. Elora’s message was clear all right- she was dead, and she was sitting there. But now, she wasn’t. Her corpse was gone. 

The story was to talk about how you should always be aware, especially when it comes to children. This was basically the theme of the story. Elora was a perfect child, but had to die because no one really made sure she was following the directions. Sure, she always did as she was asked, but it’s her first time, and first times always make mistakes. The parents deciding to not watch her is supposed to symbolize not being careful with your surroundings. There were multiple hints from Elora that would indicate sneaking out, such as breathing heavily and tripping over, but the parents chose to think that Elora wouldn’t do such a thing. The story was supposed to be about a girl who went outside for the first time. Her parents made sure she wouldn’t run off, but she did anyway. She gets lost in the woods, and she encounters illusions. She starts to run but her asthma attack kills her.

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