february 2015 orvatainment
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ORVAtainment A literary magazineA literary magazineA literary magazineA literary magazine For the Oregon Virtual AcademyFor the Oregon Virtual AcademyFor the Oregon Virtual AcademyFor the Oregon Virtual Academy
Illustra�on by Alexandra Marchon
About this publica�on
This is a publica�on featuring
work from students who a�end
the Oregon Virtual Academy.
Students help produce two publi-
ca�ons—including the ORVAgoni-
an which is a newspaper—and
ORVAtainment, a literary maga-
zine.
Students in grades 6-8 may have
their work featured in these
monthly publica�ons. Join the
ORVAgonian student club to get
updates and informa�on about
how to par�cipate.
For more informa�on about par�cipa�ng in student publi-
ca�ons, contact your homeroom teacher or ORVAgonian
and ORVAtainment advisor Cynthia Dauer.
February Student Contributors
Megan Baird
Ryan Breitmeyer
Caitlyn Ga0
Alexandra Marchon
Madeline Mixer
Rachel Negron
Aidan Rashleigh
Emme� Rashleigh
Emma Sewell
Hannah Smith
Jasmine Smith
Jordan Thibodeaux
Gavin Young
A Queen
named Mable
By Ryan Breitmeyer
There once was a queen named Mable,
Who swung through her castle on a cable.
She had a table that was able
To swing ol’ queen Mable,
In her coat that was made out of sable.
Prison
By Rachel Negron
A stranger knocked upon the door
He said, “Let me come in”
But the princess was hidden deep within
“Alas!” She cried, “Alas for me!”
“I love my prison, and cannot be free.”
Masks, Masks,
Dancing in the dark
He wants to be my friend
She wants to be my mother
And you want to convince me I’m beautiful
A wild, airy song
A broken memory
Masks, lies
The wisps of days gone past
The darkness crowds in
What is ayour song?
What is behind your mask?
What is your truth, stranger?
`tá~á`tá~á`tá~á`tá~á Uç etv{xÄ Uç etv{xÄ Uç etv{xÄ Uç etv{xÄ axzÜÉÇaxzÜÉÇaxzÜÉÇaxzÜÉÇ
The air whistled in my ears as I leaped, turn-
ing a somersault on the way down just to an-
noy my brother – he s�ll can’t do that. Water
exploded around me, a whirlwind clear and
cold. I gasped, exhilara�on flashing through
me, blood rushing in my ears.
I reached the surface just in �me to hear
him call “Show-off!” as he ran away. I grinned
and stuck out my tongue at his receding back.
Suddenly something glinted in the corner of
my eye – what was that? I turned around,
frowning, but I couldn’t see anything. Must
have been the sun glancing of the water. I
went back to – and there! I whirled around – it
had been by the rock! I saw it!
But it was gone again. I turned my head –
and it was back. Looked at the rock – gone.
Looked away – back.
I stepped to the rock to inves�gate, but my
foot slipped on a moss-covered rock and –
crap – I fell into the water face-first.
And there it was! I could see it clear as day –
something was glowing, where the rock
touched the water. I kicked toward it with
growing curiosity. It was a sort of blue light –
glow-in-the-dark algae? Or fish? As I got closer
I realized it was shining through a crack – was
there a cave in the rock? No, don’t be silly.
I surfaced, took a deep breath of air, dived,
and looked through the crack.
There really was a cave, there, fading into
darkness, but I couldn’t tell you how big it was.
It sort of faded away into shadows. And just a
foot or two away, lying on the floor, was a gi-
ant pile of glowing rocks.
No, really. There must have been fiBy of
them. They were about the size of a coffee
mug each, vaguely oval. They were blue – or
maybe white. Or green. They shone with a
light from inside, a strange kind of light that
itched in my eyes and my brain in a way I can’t
describe. I couldn’t even focus on them
properly, or tell what color they were. But
somehow – and I couldn’t tell you how – they
looked like crystallized water. And not the nor-
mal tap-water kind – the kind in the swimming
The Egg
By Alexandra Marchon
hole, full of life and ever-changing. Something
shot through me – I needed to touch them. To
hold them. Suddenly I needed it like I needed
air.
I went up for air, then dived again. I reached
through the crack and tried to grab a rock, but
I couldn’t reach. I strained – almost – but I
couldn’t reach –
I made a split-second decision and squeezed
my head through – then my other arm – then
my en�re torso. It was stupid. I knew that – I
could get stuck and drown. I groped – and
touched! My fingers curled around a rock and I
pulled back, my lungs already screaming for
air.
It didn’t work. I was stuck. No. Nononono!
Come on! Move! I pushed, figh�ng panic, wig-
gling – the rock cut into my skin and my sun-
burned back – I screamed, bubbles uselessly
fading away into the darkness above me –
tried to catch them, useless – the dark in the
corner of the cave was - the darkness was
moving in on me, flowing like water – no, come
on – I can’t die! I can’t drown! – and my arms
were in the darkness I couldn’t feel them
couldn’t move them - the dark was rising up,
up to my chin, up to my mouth, my nose –
can’t move – covering my eyes – no – no –
black –
I sucked in a huge breath of air. The sun
flared into my eyes – what? I was standing on
the bank, almost dry. What had just hap-
pened? I remembered drowning – and glowing
rocks. Was that just a hallucina�on? There was
no glint of light, no glowing crack in the rock.
Just the swimming hole I’d known for years.
“Caitlin! We were wai�ng for you! What
were you doing?” I turned around – my broth-
er was standing there, an annoyed expression
on his face. “Nothing…” I said, unsure.
“Well, come on already.” As we jogged back
to the car, I decided it must have been some
kind of weird hallucina�on – maybe when I fell
I hit my head on the rocks and dreamed it. Yes,
that must have been it. I’d probably get a huge
bump on my head.
Dinner was spaghe0 with tomato sauce –
my dad makes the best tomato sauce on the
planet. I didn’t tell them about the rock, s�ll
unsure what had happened.
It was later, at night, when I heard a sound.
Tock. Tock, tocktocktock. I whirled around,
wary. Tock. It was coming from the shower.
Tock tock tock. I carefully opened the door,
seeing only the old clothes I’d worn at the
swimming hole. They were hanging from the
shower curtain rod to dry, s�ll dripping a li�le.
tocktockTOCK. Dread swirling inside me, I real-
ized – my pants pocket – or whatever was in it
– was glowing. I reached in, knowing what I’d
find. It was the rock, glowing with a beau�ful
blue light. It was sort of crystalline, with jagged
rocky edges, like an uncut jewel, but not trans-
parent. And it was making that noise. TOCK-
TOCKTOCKTOCK clonk clonk CRACK.
And suddenly I realized – it wasn’t a rock.
It was an egg.
And I watched, astonished, as the baby
creature, as blue and beau�ful as its egg,
crawled out….
It was a sunny spring day in March
of 2009 and Shasta was about to have her
baby foal and everyone was excited. Earli-
er that year another foal was born in the
barn named Ligh-ng. It was given that
name because he had a ligh-ng pa.ern on
his forehead.
So when Shasta had her baby and
they saw it was a colt, they decided to
name this one Thunder. Thunder was a
bay colt with a li.le white spot between
his eyes on his face. He was growing
mighty well. Then when he was six
months old his mother passed away. It
was hard on him losing his mother at such
a young age and he never grew quite as
big as he should have. Thunder was s-ll
loved by everyone in the barn.
Years had passed and Thunder had
not really been worked with or ridden.
The barn that owned him put him up for
sale.
Now Elizabeth was a young girl
By Megan Baird
Thunder
and Elizabeth
looking for a pony to train and keep for
her niece and for her to ride on the
side.
All of a sudden Thunder came
up on her search and at that moment
she fell in love! He was so cute and it
sounded like he would be perfect! The
picture was of a small brown fluffy po-
ny. He looked like a life size stuffed po-
ny!
Elizabeth talked to her mother
and asked nicely to call the barn. She
called the barn that owned him and
asked to come and see him also to ask
more ques-ons about him. They talked
for what seemed like forever. Eliza-
beth couldn’t wait to see him in per-
son.
Thunder was an Arabian Quar-
ter Horse cross. Elizabeth had previ-
ously had an Arabian Welsh Pony that
had passed away and she was heart-
broken a8er that. But now seeing
Thunder she thought just maybe this
could be her horse. Her horse that she
could ride and take care of. Her horse
that she would love and not let any-
thing happen to.
The next week Elizabeth and
her mother met with the owner to
look at Thunder and Elizabeth knew
there was no way she was not ge:ng
this pony. She loved his personality
and look. She loved the way he
wrapped his head around her body
and gave her a pony hug.
Elizabeth went home that day
and never stopped thinking about
Thunder. Later that week she picked
Thunder up. She was so happy she just
loved him! She worked with him all
summer long.
Elizabeth could see that Thun-
der was improving each and every day.
At the end of the summer she entered
him in his first show. They did the low-
est division, trot a pole and they were
so excited. Thunder worked hard at
listening to Elizabeth and to not let the
large crowd and strange horses worry
him. He trusted and loved Elizabeth as
much as she loved him.
They placed first in the class!
Elizabeth can’t wait to see what’s in
store for them next!
THIS STORY IS HISTORICAL FICTION.
IT IS SET IN 2 DIFFRENT TIMES IN THE
PAST 2 CENTURIES. THIS IS BEING
WRITTEN IN THE VIEW OF SOME
DUDE WHO VISITED THE PORTLAND
TUNNELS IN '69.
I was down in the portland tun-
nels. I had been walking since dawn
and it was ge0n' 'bout lunch �me so
I decided to find a cavern off the
main line. Well I found one and it
was nice and dry so I found some
stones and sat down. Then it hap-
pened. First the lights flashed on-of-
on-off-on-off-on. Then finally off
then a ghost appeared. Ahote
Apenimon Akecheta, I discovered
later. I could tell he was an Indian
because he had a ta�oo of a restless
fighter and on top of it he had
ta�ooed trustworthy. He also had
reddish brown skin. He talked in his
own tongue but I knew what he was
sayin' somehow. He said Klahowya,
the Chinook word for hello, and in-
troduced himself as Ahote Apenimon
Akecheta. Then he asked what year
it was. I told him that it was 1969. He
said last he knew it was 1912, before
we joined the great war. I asked him
when he was born and he said 1763,
then he said that he died in 1826. I
asked him to tell the story of his
death and what had happened since
then.
He said, "I was going to the store
for some flour. All of the sudden I
saw 2 guys walking towards a hole
and then they climbed in I went over
to look around and then they
grabbed me. I tried to get to my
knife but they had to �ght of a grip.
Later we went in to this very room.
when they were talking about how
much they would get for me I
jumped 'em. I thought I knocked 'em
out but one was only stunned, when
I thought it was safe I sat down
where you are to catch my breath.
then the stunned one started cursing
me and before I knew what hap-
pened I had been shot with a revolv-
er twice. Once in the shoulder the
other in my leg. For a second or two
there was no pain then enough pain
to cripple even the strongest of men,
then I let out a blood curdlin'
scream.
I said, “like in the older movies
like Dracula or something like that?”
He asked what that was. I said never
mind, lets get back to the story.
“They got so scared by that they
shot me again, that �me in the
shoulder and then they ran. aBer
that I was only alive for a second.
ABer that when ever someone
comes and disturbs those rocks yer
si0n' on I come back to tell my sto-
ry.”
Then he vanished to heaven
knows where. Then the lights came
back on. ABer that experience I sat
there for a minute. ABer I realized
what had happened and the �me it
was, I let out a blood curdling scream
in the dead of night. It was 10:30pm
once the ghost disappeared. ABer
that I got out of there like a shot.
That just 'bout sums it up.
THE PORTLAND TUNNELS ARE REAL.
THEY WERE USED FOR SHANGHAI.
SHANGHAI MEANS TO GRAB PEOPLE
OR KIDNAP THEM TO BE USED OR
SOLD AS SLAVES. THEY WERE USED
IN THE 1800'S. THE TUNNELS ARE
OPEN TO THE PUBLIC AND THERE
ARE TOURS THROUGH THEM. I APOL-
OGIZE IF THIS STORY HAS SCARED
YOU BUT IT IS A GHOST STORY AFTER
ALL. IF YOU DECIDE TO USE THE STO-
RY TO TELL AS A CAMPFIRE STORY I
APPRECIATE IT. I HOPE YOU HAVE
ENJOYED THE STORY AS MUCH AS I
HAVE WRITING IT. THIS IS MY FIRST
GHOST STORY.
The
Tunnel
By Gavin Young
Journey to the Center of
Minecraftia
A Fictional Story by: Ryan Breitmeyer
Chapter 2: Discovery!
Whatwillthey�indnext?Whatwilltheydonext?Findoutnexttime
on‘JourneytotheCenterofMinecraftia’!
“Arewethereyet?”Serenaasked.
Serenahadaskedthisquestion5times
before.Onceevery15secondsit
seemed.
“Almost..”Echosaidannoyed,“Just
amereminuteofwalkingleft.”
JustasEchosaidthat,theywere
there,itwasabeautytobehold,awa-
terfallpouringoutofthewalltomake
theriverbeforethem.Aroundtheriver
wasgrassand�lowersofpurpleand
yellowandred,ohmy!Thetreesthere
werebeautiful.Thewoodseemedtobe
thereforawhile,becausethetreeshad
mossandvinesallaroundthem.And
thiswasallunderground!
“Wooaah…”Theyallsaidinamaze-
ment,
“Echo…Weneedtoexploremoreof
thiscave!”Serenaexclaimed.
JeffandEchoagreedandtheyall
decidedtoexploremoreofthecave.
Littledidtheyknowwhattheywould
�indnext.
The Six Realities Chapter Two:
Escape
By Aidan Rashleigh
With a thud I was thrown into an ice cold dun-
geon. I heard the cell door slam behind me. I sat
up and looked around. It was dark, but I was
pre�y sure the walls were made of ice. The floor
must have been made of stone because it was
hard and dusty. I felt weak and red. I closed my
eyes for just a second and fell asleep.
I was woken up by a sound. It seemed to come
from the corner of the cell. I looked closely I could
almost make out a figure… but I couldn’t. Right
now I should have been playing video games. It
was Saturday. Saturday was the day that I always
took my seven hour bubble bath, and this Satur-
day was the day of the ‘Cat and Lobster Show.’ I’d
missed it last year because I was chasing Quinn
around the world. I just couldn’t miss it this year!
“Mr. Guard! I’m missing the Cat and Lobster
show because of you!” I yelled angrily.
There was no reply, but I had to watch that
show no ma�er what.
“I don’t care if you miss some dog and…”I inter-
rupted the guard.
“It’s the Cat and Lobster show, got it!”
“As I was saying,” said the guard, “I don’t care if
you miss the show and by the way you have a visi-
tor. He can’t wait to see you.”
Then guard came over unlocked the cage and
led me to an arena. There was someone wai ng
for me. I immediately recognized who it was.
“Ben! Why are you here?” I shouted. Ben flexed
his muscles. “Someone named something like
Aden told me that you’d ruin my life if I didn’t de-
stroy you!” Ben roared. “Cool,” I said hal6eartedly
as looked around at the thousands of goblins
wai ng happily for us to fight. This would be a
show they would never forget.
I charged Ben fists outstretched, then BAM!
Ben nailed me in the gut. I shouted in pain and fell
to the ground. The goblins all clapped with amaze-
ment. Next Ben grabbed me off the ground, li9ed
me up, and drop-kicked me to the other side of
the arena. I slammed into the wall. I tried to get
up but my arm had been busted when I was drop-
kicked. I could feel the vibra ons as Ben walked
up behind me to deliver the finishing blow. Sud-
denly I heard the goblins in the crowd screaming. I
looked up and I saw Ben running off then I looked
over to the goblins. Six foot tall purple pears carry-
ing swords were chasing them away. The snow
goblins and purple pears had been blood enemies
since the beginning of me.
With a lot of effort I managed to get up and
stagger to a door. The door led to a series of stair
cases. Once I got down the staircases I found a
pedestal with a sword in it, but this sword was no
ordinary sword. This one was made of Ice. En-
graved upon the hilt of the sword were these
words
Â[x ã{É ÜxáàÉÜxá à{|á áàÉÇx yÜÉÅ à{x ÑxwxáàtÄ ã|ÄÄ uÜ|Çz utÄtÇvx àÉ à{x á|å ÜxtÄ|à|xá..” I couldn’t make out what it said but I had want-
ed a sword so I tried pulling it out of the pedestal.
It came out with ease. As I was swinging it around
feeling full of myself a whip seized it out of my hand.
“CLANG” it hit the ground.
“You- you are,” I stu�ered, but was interrupted.
“Des ny Jones ac on hero and archeologist, I remem-
ber you. You were that kid who wanted your book signed
but forgot your book. And I see you have found the rea-
son I’m here.”
This was my hero, of the book series Adventures in
Time. I was speechless but I realized I should say some-
thing.
“I’m your biggest fan,” was the only thing I could say.
“Well duh, everyone is but that sword is the reason
I’m here. I’m not here to sign books for people who for-
get their books!” Des ny said sounding quite annoyed.
I handed her the sword without hesita ng. She looked
over the sword and stopped when she came to the
words.
“Did you pull this out of that pedestal?” Des ny asked.
I nodded then she handed the sword back to me “Well
then kid, I will accompany you on your quest.”
“What quest? And I can’t go on I quest with a busted
elbow” I replied.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t read the wri ng on the
sword” Des ny responded.
“Of course I didn’t. It’s in some foreign language” I said
sounding insulted.
“You mean cursive?” Des ny replied. “And it says ‘He
who restores this blade from the pedestal will bring bal-
ance to the six reali es,’ so if you really did pull the sword
from the pedestal you have to restore balance to the six
reali es.”
Just then the door broke off its hinges and a bunch of
purple pears led by a blue pear charged in.
“Time to make fruit salad” I mu�ered to myself. I
gripped my sword ghtly, and prepared to a�ack!
Pear juice spla�ered my face as I swung my
sword ruthlessly against the pear army. Then
WAM! My sword hit something tougher than pear
hide. It was the wall.
“Great!” I yelled. “This wall is in the wrong
Place.”
“Really?” asked Des ney.
“Yeah” I nodded.
Then a club came down on my head. I collapsed.
The blue pear was standing over me. I reached for
my sword but it was too far away to grab. The pear
swung his club down to smash my head like a water
melon-
___________( Suspense builds)_____________
right before it hit my head he froze. One of the
snow goblins had shot an arrow at him. Snow gob
lin arrows can freeze anything they touch. I sighed
with relief. I had just escaped death again. I
crawled out from under the frozen pear and
snatched up my sword from the ground.
I saw Des ny stabbing the last of the pears.
“Now that we are done with that lets get out of
here” she said out of breath from the fight. I nod
-ded in reply.
“I came to find that sword so I could fix the
space me portals” she told me.
“They have been wreaking havoc all over the
world. As far as I know we are in the first reality.
The pears we just fought are from the second reali
ty. That sword you have is the only thing that can
bring balance to them.”
“Is that a fact?” I asked. “Yes it is a fact Roy!”
When we made it out of the snow goblin palace
I was starving. “Are there any fast-food joints
around here?” I asked.
“No” Des ny responded. “But I’m starving” I com
-plained. “I’ve read lots of survival books, there lit
erally should be food all around us.” I
then walked over to a tree pulled off a branch and
chomped on it. “Have a bite, it’s an old Navaho
snack tree.” I said through my munching. Des ny
rolled her eyes in response.
“Maybe that’s not what your survival book was
talking about.” I ques oned. “maybe Roy!”
Des ny said sarcas cally. “You’re right,” I re
plied, “That’s probably not what your book was talk
ing about.”
We con nued walking down the mountain un l we
reached the summit.
“What’s the plan anyway?” I asked.
“The plan is to find out more about The Six Reali es.
Supposedly the ancient Maya had some sort of ar fact
that could allow a person to move through the reali es
freely. And that is why you have to go to air sta on or
whatever you call the place where people board planes,
airport, that’s it. Yes, you have to get to the airport so we
can get to South America. Here’s a taxi. I have my own
way of geDng there, so adios. I’ll see you in South Ameri-
ca.”
And with that Des ny was gone.
Photos by Hannah Smith
ByAlexandraMarchon
[Recording starts]
I don’t know. It just happened. Is that a recording thing? Yeah.
Okay, I’ll tell you. I’ll try… I don’t know, I’m just kind of mixed up
right now. [laughs hysterically] Everything’s…. I just lost my li�le
brother twice in a row, you know what I mean? And my mom –
I don’t know. Yeah, I get he wasn’t really my li�le brother, but I
s�ll loved him. I guess I might be shock. I do think it hasn’t hit
me yet. I thought I wouldn’t tell you anything, but then… I
mean, you didn’t mean any harm. And since I’m representa�ve
of the human race… I don’t know. I should be nice. I don’t
know. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. [heavy breathing] Can I have a
drink of water? [pause] Thanks. So. The beginning. Yes.
I guess we no�ced when he was around two, and we found
Andrew playing with a lizard in the park. And I saw it, it was
dead or almost dead, all limp. It had blood on it. And Mom tried
to take it away from him, and it ran away, just like that. No
blood. He just looked at us with big eyes and dropped the liz-
ard, and it ran away.
When we went home, we just pretended it didn’t happen. Be-
cause it didn’t make sense. And Mom is the sort of person who
needs everything to make sense, so she just ignored all evi-
dence of his… talent. Especially aBer dad… yeah. Yeah, he died.
You know that, right? Oh. I guess I assumed you could just look
it up or something. Or something. I barely remember him. An-
drew was born nine months aBer he died. Oh god. I just real-
ized – \\he wasn’t actually my dad’s son, you know what I
mean? Well, I guess… yeah, he couldn’t be, could he? I mean,
me and mom and dad are normal, and he’s… Okay. Back to the
story. So Mom ignored it all, but it got ever bigger, you know?
He’d wander off and we’d find him with a rabbit, or a cat or
something, and it looked dead but then it wasn’t. It peaked
when our dog got run over, you know? And she was dead. I saw
her. I was crying and he toddled over to her and touched her,
and said “Don’t cry, Towi” like that and she jumped up and
started licking my face. Towi, that’s what he called me, because
when he was li�le, cause he couldn’t pronounce Tori. My real
name’s Victoria. I don’t like it. I guess I wouldn’t be able to pro-
nounce your name even.
He does love me, you know. Whatever he is. It’s why he… did
whatever it was to our dog. The rest of the animals, I don’t
know, he might have hurt them, and only… healed them so we
didn’t no�ce. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.
So anyway, there were other things too, like he could make
these li�le balls of blue light that made things move. He only
did that when there was nobody but me, and it’s not like any-
body would believe me. So I kept quiet. I thought he might have
superpowers, or maybe he was a wizard, you know, Harry
Po�er. Do you even know what Harry Po�er is? No. No, I didn’t
think of that. I guess I wanted to believe he was human, or
something close to human. And I knew, or I thought I knew, his
parents were humans, since they were my parents. So he could-
n’t be something else en�rely, I thought. So shoot me, I was
wrong.
The turning point was when I saw him do it on purpose. We
were walking home. From school, yeah. And then my mom
started talking with one of her friends, you know, blah blah, and
then he was gone again. Maybe he did something so we didn’t
no�ce. I don’t know. Is that possible? Anyway, I found behind
the school, and he was throwing his blue balls of light at a cat,
so it jerked back and forth. It didn’t look happy, not at all, but it
didn’t make noise at all, not even a whimper. Then there was a
crack, and it fell… I guess, yeah. He probably killed it. Is that a
big thing for you people, I guess? Are you okay? Stupid ques-
�on. And then he was going to pick it up, and I must have made
noise… or that I guess. Wow. [giggles hysterically] He was pre�y
powerful then…. But not as powerful as you. I guess it makes
sense, if he’s telepathic… if you’re all telepathic. So why didn’t
he no�ce me before then?
I didn’t know that. I didn’t know you can get addicted to pain. I
mean, sadism, I guess. Or the other thing… masochism. But not
like that. But I guess it’s different for you.
Andrew
But he saw me, and his eyes went blue… yeah, his eyes are
blue. But not that blue. What is it with blue and you people
anyway? Is everything blue where you live or what? So he
ran away. He did love us. He didn’t want us to know. It hurt
him. I could see it. And he was gone, and we couldn’t find
him, none of us. And we called a search party and every-
thing… that probably isn’t important. You just want to know
about Andrew, I guess. Or whatever his name really is. So
the next we heard of him was on the news. It was world
news, because it made no sense. None of this makes sense,
you know that? But there was this building, and it was emp-
ty, apparently they were going to demolish it soon, and he
was on the roof, toddling around. And of course everyone
wanted to get him, because he’s adorable and young and
maybe he made them want to get him too. I don’t know.
But there was this invisible wall around it, so if anyone tried
to get within a foot or so, it flared blue and pushed whoever
it was back. They tried it with a fire truck, you know that? It
just bounced back. And then CNN showed up, and I don’t
know, Fox News and a million other TV sta�ons and people
with cameras and cars with huge antennae and Mom and I
rushed there, but there wasn’t anything we could do at all,
just stand there and watch and sob. And only I knew that he
could make blue light like that, but when I tried to tell them
they laughed. And they didn’t believe me. And I knew I had
to try… I had to get to him. He loved me, you know? He real-
ly did. And I managed to get to the wall – and I yelled to him,
and he came to the edge, and he was angry at me. But he did
love me, and I think I knew he was smarter than a four-year-
old should be, that I had to treat him like… I don’t know, an
adult. And this door opened for me. The reporters all sort of
backed up, and I went through this blue door, and closed
right behind me. Then he liBed me up to the roof, and he
looked sad and angry together, and I wanted to hold him so
bad, but then I got liBed up and he… I think he did the same
thing as with the cat. He made me move or something. I
don’t know if it hurt. I don’t remember anything aBer that.
When I woke up I was on the top of the building, and there
was police everywhere, and they tried to keep me. But I ran
to him… he was facing this en�re huge army. It had tanks
and everything. I don’t know what he did, while I was gone,
but it seemed like there were thousands of people there. It
looked so silly, this one li�le boy against all of them. Unless
you looked too closely at his eyes. And I didn’t have �me to
do anything. And then you came.
I guess you know the rest. [pause] Okay then. I guess I’ll tell
you. I don’t know. So you came, in your ships. They shone
blue, and landed all around him. And then he looked afraid,
and something in me – I think it was in all of us – it wanted to
run to him, to protect him so bad. I think he did that. And
something else smashed into that feeling –that must have
been you – that just went like Stay s�ll. Don’t interfere. Al-
most in words. ABer that you fought with him. I don’t know
what that was. It just looked like blue lightning and fire eve-
rywhere, so we could barely see anything, un�l you stopped,
and he was in blue-light chains. And he went inside one of
the ships, your ships. And then one of you came out, and
flickered before turning into a human in a business suit. And
you went like I’m sorry. And explained everything. How he
was a rogue, how he was sick somehow, and it’s why he hurt
us and stuff. And that you had mental and physical powers
and technology beyond ours and that you could make us
forget but you wouldn’t because it isn’t fair, or something
like that. You said it telepathically, didn’t you? Like now.
Yeah, like that. And I couldn’t think at all somehow. I just
went like Andrew’s an alien. Andrew’s an alien. That rhymes.
No it doesn’t. It’s what. Allitera�ve. Something like that.
[hysterically]Andrew’s an alien! Why do you need a record-
ing anyway? You won’t be on the recording, probably. I
mean, I’m the only one making actual sound waves around
here. [hysterical giggles] And don’t you have perfect memory
or something? Yeah. Back to the story. Okay. Anyway, aBer
you said you needed a witness, and somehow you made me
come out of the crowd and walk into the spaceship thing, up
the stairs and next thing I remember I was here. But you
know that.
So am I free now? Do I just… I just go? Pretend nothing ever
happened? I don’t know. I don’t know.
So I walk out the door and I’m home? That doesn’t make
sense. It doesn’t make sense. I have a ques�on – please. Can
I see him one more �me? No! He wouldn’t hurt me. He
wouldn’t. I just want to see him. I don’t care if you can’t pro-
tect me, he won’t hurt me. Please? I won’t blame you. I
helped. I told you things. Can’t you send the recording to the
other humans or something? Then they won’t blame you. I
don’t know. [pause] Thank you. Thank you. I know he won’t
hurt me. Thank you.
[steps]
Andrew! Andrew – I wanted to – [sound of screams]
[silence]
[recording ends]
Alexa In Wonderland
By Emma Sewell
Prologue Alexa was quiet. She was staring down the small present her mother had given her. "Go on Alexa, you can open it now." Alice's soothing voice whispered. Alexa crawled toward the box, and proceeded to open it. Strips of wrapping paper glis-tened in the sunlight, as her small hands tore through the box like a wild animal tearing through the flesh of its prey. Lay-ing in the ruins of where the present was a small, white stuffed rabbit. Alexa could not resist the toy. With its pinkish red button eyes and tiny waistcoat, it looked like a little gentleman. Alexa's father, Harold, was concerned. "Alice, we do not want to stuff her head with rubbish!" he grumbled, mut-tering under his breath. Alice ignored his comment and watched hopefully at Alexa's round mid-night blue eyes. "Someday, you will see, Alexa."
Chapter 1 "Mom, my hair is fine!" Alexa squealed in protest as Alice quietly combed her hair. Alice simply replied " Alexa dear, your hair is completely mangled again. You're
going to get a headache!" Alexa groaned, but kept quiet for a while. She knew she couldn't overpower her mother. The wom-en sat still for the trip. Alice was fiddling with her fingers, nervous and excited at the same time for what would happen. Alexa was stretching her arms, looking out the window at the quiet pasture, where her destiny lay ahead. She already knew what was going on. Every generation of female Kingsley's went through this. A rich man would ask to be their husband. No problem at all. Alexa secretly hoped
the mystery man would be sick or the party rained out, anything to delay the proposal. The carriage went by the house, skidding to a stop. Alice and Alexa stepped out onto the gleaming gravel that lay before them. While Alice walked off to meet the parents, Alexa sneaked toward the front and gave the kind-ly old man a big tip. He said his thanks, tipped his hat, and disappeared into the shadow of the forest. Alexa looked at the sky. There was not a cloud to be seen. Her hopeful thoughts went away. The man was standing about 12 feet away, chatting with some ladies from the south. The man looked charming, with his cropped orange hair and finely made suit. No, she wouldn't marry him. There was NO WAY she would ever marry him! Still, he turned his head and saw her. “Ah, how delightful for you to be here, Miss Alexa!" he bowed, like a good gentle-man should." Shall we waltz?" She couldn't decide, so she shrugged. He toke her hand and whisked her onto the dance floor. Luckily, Alexa knew the waltz, so nothing went wrong. "Um, what is your name, good sir?" she asked politely. "It's Harry, Miss Alexa." he replied. She couldn't help but giggle. When the dance was over, Alexa asked "Harry? Could I take a break? I'm quite tired." She then grabbed her fan and began to fan it over her head, showing that she was tired. Harry nodded, then walked away to talk with his mother. Alexa ran into the small rose maze in the
garden. She sat down in a small grove of white roses. "Wow, that boy was as dull as a pencil!" she giggled once more. Suddenly there a flash of white in the distance. As the white figure slowed down, Alexa's eyes widened to the size of teacups. It was just like the stuffed rabbit she had since she was little! This time, it was real. She started to follow the strange creature until it hopped into a hole in the ground, which she guessed was his home.
"Hello?" she said into the hole, her voice echoing through. She wouldn't go in, not if it didn't have a bottom. Alexa toke out a small dime out of her pocket, and dropped it. Leaning toward the hole, she listened for a thud. There wasn't. 'Maybe it was far and had not reached the ground quite yet.' she thought. Leaning in closer, she over a loose tree root and fell.
Chapter 2 Alexa screamed, her voice echoing through the hole. So far, her only question was 'how did this dirt hole not collapse yet?'. She sped up, faster and faster and faster. Alexa closed her eyes tightly, as the wind whistled through her ears. Suddenly, she stopped. There was a delightful thump, as she
opened her eyes. She spotted the rabbit, hopping quickly through the long hallway. "Mr. Rabbit, where are you going?" she shouted. The rabbit stopped for a moment, as if he heard the sound, but shook his head and continued on. Alexa face palmed herself. 'It probably doesn't even speak English, silly Alexa!' she thought. She chased him for a while, until the rabbit disappeared into a curtain. "Curiouser and curiouser! Where did that rabbit go?" she spoke. (sorry reader, you should have seen that coming! :D) Alexa then realized, 'There must be something behind that curtain. After all, the rabbit disappeared just a bit ago.' She slowly tip toed over to the bright red curtain. And, lo and behold, there was a door with a shiny brass doorknob. But it was locked.
The Lost Land of Cerrejón :
Ba.le of the Titans
Back on the river, I assumed that I had
taken my share of attacks by wild animals. I
was sadly mistaken. We had hardly gone a
mile before a huge serpentine head rose out
of the water.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” I
screamed. (I’d done that more and more of-
ten lately.) The massive serpent hissed. I
screamed again.
It was Titanoboa, the very snake my un-
cle had come to South America to find. The
prehistoric serpent must have entered
through the time-space wormhole I had
come to find. The animal had the coloration
of the green anaconda, one of my favorite
snakes, but was about sixty feet long, and as
wide as a manhole. A manhole that I could
easily fit through, and end up being slowly
digested for who knows how long- No. I
shook my head. I needed to concentrate, use
every moment to my best advantage.
“Hey,” I said. “Frederica! Believe in
wormholes now?”
She glared. Well, after I got that off my
mind, I shouted, “RUN!” I jumped out of
the boat into the murky waters of the Ama-
zon River and swam for my life.
In retrospect, jumping into the river was
probably not the best thing I could have
done. I could have fought off the snake he-
roically. I could have distracted it long
enough for my friends to escape. Instead, I
leapt into one of most dangerous rivers in
the world. Not to bore you with facts con-
cerning the many forms of life in the river
that could kill me, just let me say: I was as
doomed as a-a- a thing that is really
By Emme� Rashleigh
doomed.
I swam, rather upset by the poor visibility.
As for as I knew, I could be swimming above
anything, ancient ruins, giant microwave din-
ners, huge crocodiles, and who knows what
else. I dove, partly to satisfy my curiosity, partly
to try to avoid the attention of the Titanoboa. I
tried to scream, but I had mysteriously lost my
voice. All that came out of my mouth was a em-
barrassing “Squeak!” For emerging from the
shadows was a monstrous crocodile.
I squeaked again and tried to get out of way,
but the fearsome reptile ignored me; it was after
a bigger prize, Titanoboa itself. As the two
predators swam towards each other I swam back
to the canoes. “Frederica,” I said, “Five bucks
says Titanoboa wins.” She smiled. “You’re on.”
I knew that victory for Titanoboa hinged on
it being able to constrict its crocodilian foe. The
crocodile would spin in the water, attempting to
drown the serpent, unaware that most snakes
can hold their breath just as long as crocs. I had
seen a similar battle take place in on the Nile,
between a Nile crocodile and an African rock
python. Usually, the python won. I just hoped,
for the sake of my five dollars, that the same
would happen here.
The Titanoboa reared up; the croc seized its
opportunity and snapped at it. The snake dove
into the water and the crocodile followed suit.
To be honest, I was sort of disappointed. There
was some underwater thrashing, but it was all
over pretty quickly. The great serpent emerged
from the water with the crocodilian in its coils.
As the great serpent began to swallow its one
time foe we tried to navigate past. After having
Frederica pay up on the bet, I noticed Cindy
crying.
“What’s wrong, I said, feeling cocky.
“Never seen something like that before?”
Actually, knowing Cindy, I figured that she
smudged her lipstick or something.
“Biscuit,” she howled, “My, l-l-like, darling,
cute little Chihuahua is GONE!!!” I had sort of
guessed that the dog would die at some point.
After all, you don’t just take a tiny mammal in
to the Amazon. Still, I pretended to be sympa-
thetic.
“Gee,” I said. “That’s just too bad.”
“Yeah, said Tessa, “you, like, only bought it
to, like, totally match your purse. It’s not like, it
was important or anything. At least you didn’t,
like, lose what’s left of our make-up.”
“Like, HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT!?!?!”
Cindy was screaming, “All you even, like, care
about is make-up, and accessories, and whether
boys like you! You’re anti-fair! IF YOU DID-
N’T, LIKE, GET THE NEWSFLASH, TESSA,
THERE’S MORE TO LIFE THEN THAT!”
Even Frederica, who was supposed to know
them well, was shocked by Cindy’s outburst.
“Cindy,” she started. Cindy turned on her
next. “Don’t, like, even get started, Fred! You
don’t even, like, know anything! All you do is
ooh and aah over bugs and stuff, and- and…”
Cindy broke into tears. I was appalled. She
didn’t say ‘like’ in her last sentence.
Tessa apparently shared my surprise. Her mouth
was just hanging open, trying to say something
but not really accomplishing anything. It was
difficult to resist the desire to throw mud in her
mouth.
I could have just plopped some in, but in-
stead I said: “Um, uh, well, I guess...” I didn’t
really say anything. Kipper too as shocked, but
handled the situation better than I did. “Girls,
girls, we’re all friends here. Cindy, I’m sure
Tessa didn’t mean anything. And Tessa, I’m
sure Cindy just isn’t mentally stable right now,
that’s all.”
Cindy and Tessa started to nod. Just then,
something, very special, almost magical, hap-
pened. One of those poisoned arrows hit me in
the stomach. “Oh, come on,” I sighed.
Author’s note: I still can’t decide if I meant the
battle between Titanoboa and the crocodile as
‘The Battle of the Titans’, or the just as danger-
ous battle between Tessa and Cindy. You de-
cide!
© 2014 Emmett Rashleigh All Rights Reserved
There was once a rabbit named Bun
Buns. One day in her house, Bun Buns
said “I want to make a friend. I always
see other rabbits together.”
Bun Buns decided to go out and make some friends. So she leB her rabbit hole
and went to make a friend.
She saw a group of li�le bunnies together. She decided she would say hi.
Hi. My name is Bun Buns. Do you want to be my friends?” she asked.
They said “No.”
So she went along and asked more bunnies to be her friend but they all said no.
Then a li�le turtle saw her.
The turtle said “Hi. My name is Fiona. Want to be my friend?”
Bun Buns said “Yes. I will be your friend!” And they played all day long everyday
and were best friends forever.
The Rabbit
By Madeline Mixer
Hello my name is Rose Smith and this is my story of
how I got trapped in The Hunger Games.
It all started as a normal day (doesn't it always). I was
reading Mockingjay and listening to music, when the radio
stopped working. I no�ced a strange crack on the wall
behind the radio. When I touched it (like anyone would)
there was a weird glow, but that was all that happened so
I went back to my book. Li�le did I know that this was not
the end. ABer I finished Mockingjay I went to look at the
crack in the wall, and it was glowing again, but then my
mom called me to dinner so I didn't find out why it was
glowing. I went to bed as I normally do, but when I woke
up I found myself in a different room.
"What, where am I?" I said.
"Katniss are you okay? You're at home, like always." A
young blond girl said. Ah! Of course, this is one of those
dreams where you end up in another world; I probably
should go along with it. Oh, that girl must be Primrose;
what does Katniss call her? Prim! That's her nickname.
"Yeah Prim, I'm okay. I just had a strange dream." I re-
plied.
"Oh, okay Katniss. Are you going for one of your
walks?" She must mean hun�ng! "If you are, then you
be�er be careful, it's reaping day."
"Don't worry I will. How about you go and see if Gale
wants to come." I said, as an idea popped into my head.
"Okay! I will Katniss." She said happily. I got dressed
quickly, because she would be back soon. Ah! Here she is
now, with Gale.
"Hey Catnip, how are you?" Gale said, using his nick-
name for Katniss, as we walked.
"Good, what about you Gale?" I replied.
"I'm okay, considering what day it is today," He said
sadly.
"Oh yeah, how many �mes is your name in now for the
reaping," I asked.
"My name is in about forty five �mes today," He said
quietly
"Oh I'm sorry Gale, but at least it's not one of your sib-
lings. I don't know what I would do if sweet, gentle Prim
was chosen," I said.
"Wow, we are here already, that was quick," He said,
changing the subject.
"Yeah, that was fast, Gale, let's go," I replied, knowing
he did not want to talk about it anymore, and ducked un-
der the fence. "Well, come on." When we finished hun�ng
we can start talking again.
"Gale, there's something important I have to tell you," I
said to him.
"What is it Catnip?" He asked worriedly.
"I'm not Katniss. My name is Rose Smith," I said.
"WHAT!!??"
Rose Smith and the Hunger Games
By Caitlyn Ga0
THE ART OF ALCHEMY
BY EMMETT RASHLEIGH
Part One
Chapter One: The Saturday Market That
Wasn’t Actually on Saturday
“So tell me again, why exactly are we here?” Quinton Flicker
had been dragged all over downtown Portland by his cousin
Taylor looking for a ‘Sunday Market..’ Taylor sighed. “If you weren’t such a moron you would
have remembered that ad I got in the mail.”
Quinton squinted, trying to remember. “Yeah, um, wasn’t
that for multi vitamins, or laser liposuction or something?”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I don’t believe you’re
a member of my gene pool, Q. You are such a- a,” She tried to
find a word that would sum up everything that was wrong
with Quinton. “An idiot!” she finished lamely.
Quinton smiled. “’An idiot,” he said trying unsuccessfully
to imitate her. “I thought you would do better than that. Really
Taylor, you’re starting to lose it.” “Like you should have remembered,” Taylor continued, “I
got an ad from some wood turner that claims he has some,
‘exquisite’ pieces.” Quinton sighed. He should have remem-
bered; Taylor had been talking about it nonstop for days.
“Anyway,” said Taylor, “I think this is exactly what I’ve been
waiting for.”
Now it was Quinton’s turn to roll his eyes. “I thought that
magic potion kit on E-Bay was what you were ‘waiting for’.
Remember what happened? It was a dud!”
Taylor scowled. “I thought we agreed never to talk about
that again! It took months to get the green out of my hair! This time is different though. This time, I’m going to know if this
works before I buy it.”
Quinton rolled his eyes again. (They did that a lot in their
family.) Taylor had been obsessed with anything and every-
thing magical since she saw Harry Potter at the age of nine.
Even now, five years later, she would still get a look in her
eye like she had drunk a dozen espressos whenever she heard
the theme music to the movie. As she had begun to ‘acquire’
more money, she only became more driven to get her hands
on something with real power.
The pair finally came to the ‘Sunday Market’. Quinton
looked around at the vendors. “I thought this happened on Saturday. You know Saturday Market? Sunday Market
doesn’t have the same ring to it at all- ow! He had been inter-
rupted by a painful elbow to the back, courtesy of Taylor. So
he kicked Taylor in the shins. Then Taylor stomped on his
feet. So Quinton pulled her hair. Which made Taylor knee
him in the back. Because that’s what cousins do. Finally they
started to look for the vendor and his ‘exquisite’ work.
They found an older man behind racks of wooden rings,
bottle stoppers, etc. The man looked up. “Ah, you have ar-rived! How delightful.”
Taylor glanced over his wares before asking: “I thought I
would find something special here.”
The man smiled. “Of course, child, of course! I believe you
are looking for something, as you might say, ‘magical’?” Tay-
lor nodded.
“I must warn you,” she said, “that I doubt you have what
I’m looking for. What I don’t doubt is that you’re just trying
to make some quick bucks off me, although I’d welcome a
correction.”
The man smiled again. “He sure smiles a lot,” thought
Quinton. The man started to speak. “If I wanted to make a coin, I would peddle postcards to tourists.”
“Um, I don’t think there are many tourists here”- Quintin
was silenced by a kick to the shins. The man ignored the in-
terruption and continued.
“I assure you, all I will tell about my work is quite true.”
He lifted a five foot staff onto the table. The cousins bit back
an involuntary gasp. The staff was made of a deep black
wood, with intricate carvings of fierce lions tearing apart sol-
diers in medieval armor. The staff was topped by a pure black
sphere, held in place by four wooden claws projecting of the
trunk of the staff. If Quinton had to use one word to describe it, it would be-
“Awesome… in kind of a creepy way,” he said. “Sort of…
creepy-cool.”
Quinton’s awe was nothing compared to his cousin’s. Tay-
lor was completely transfixed. “It’s so… incredible...” She
sounded like she was in a trance. The man smiled.
“Again!” Thought Quinton. “Would he stop doing that?”
The man said, “The price is reasonable, especially when
you consider the craftsmanship, and the power.” The mention
of the word price snapped Taylor out of her daze.
“What is the price?” she asked nervously. “Only 99.99,” he
replied. Quinton looked at his cousin. On one hand, a hun-dred dollars was way too much to waste on a stick, but he
knew Taylor well. Looking at her, he saw how badly she
wanted, no, needed, the staff.
“Sold.” Quinton was shocked.
“Taylor, shouldn’t we think this over, maybe over a nice
latte, or an espresso, or a”- Taylor shook her head.
“Nope. My mind is made up, we’re buying this thing.” Quin-
ton was about to say ‘sure’ or ‘fine’, but then the meaning of
Taylor’s words hit: “Um, Taylor, You didn’t say ‘we’re’ buying
this are you? Because that means that I’ll be paying for it, or half
of it, or a third of it, or a fourth of”- Taylor interrupted him. “You’ll pay half; I’ll pay you back later.”
“Okay.”
Quinton was unsure why he was agreeing, considering Taylor
had recently kneed him in the back, and Taylor already owed him
a couple hundred dollars, but he was going to let her have the
fifty. Maybe it was because he thought the staff was cool, and he
could always claim ownership over it if Taylor didn’t repay him.
As Taylor gave the vendor the money, the man said: “This is
the Scepter of the Lions. It is originally from what is now known
as Ukraine.” The man leaned uncomfortably close to the cousins.
“Use it well,” he said,” or not at all.” Well, Quinton had no idea
what that could have meant, unless (of course) the old man didn’t want them to use the scepter because it was fake. He figured that
must be it, but naturally didn’t say anything to Taylor. He wanted
to enjoy this!
As the cousins made their way home, Quinton seemed to no-
tice various people staring at them. Another smiling old guy, a
fast food mascot, a kid on a bike, and a mysterious hooded man
in black- Quinton shook his head. He put it down to their new
scepter. The thing seemed to give him a bad feeling, that’s all.
Still, he was glad when they finally arrived at their apartment
building. Quinton almost broke into a run to the elevator. The
elevator was playing easy listening music. Quinton realized why so many people left the elevator angry. Heck, listening to some
dumb song about liking pina coladas and getting caught in the
rain right after a long day at work… Quinton could see why there
were so many fist fights outside the elevator.
“Um,” Quinton began. “What exactly will this thing do, Tay-
lor?”
Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, “something magi-
cal, I guess.” Quinton smiled. He couldn’t wait to say, “Told you
so!”
The elevator finally arrived at the 32nd floor. “Uh oh,” thought
Quinton. Taylor’s mom, that is, his aunt, was playing some Tay-
lor Swift song. “M-o-o-ther,” Taylor whined. Her mom came out of the kitch-
en.
“Hey, honey. Hey, Q.” Taylor scowled.
“Mom,” she said, “How many times do I need to tell you? I
don’t like Taylor Swift! I hate her, I abhor her, I detest her, I
loathe her, I despise her, I abominate her!” Mrs. Flicker laughed.
“Q, I knew you’d regret giving her that thesaurus.” She turned
back to Taylor. “I don’t see why you don’t like Taylor Swift. Just
because she has the same first name as you, is wildly popular,
and writes and sings all of her songs; there’s no reason to dislike
her.” Taylor rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” her mother continued, “dinner’s ready.”
The cousins met Taylor’s father at the table. Mr. Flicker was
in the middle of a long speech about his day working for Star-
bucks to no one in particular. If Taylor and Quinton had been
paying attention they could have learned about the glories of
making the perfect espresso, or the horror of accidently using
soymilk when a customer specifically asked for dairy. They
could have learned some really cool stuff. But, sadly, Mr. Flicker
had that special way of making anything he talked about sound
boring. He could make a dump truck driving through a nitro-
glycerin plant sound as exciting as a report on the thickness of
toilet seats.
It was through this verbal assault that the cousins suffered.
Quinton soon grew tired of pretending to listen while having a
thumb war with Taylor under the table.
“Hey,” he said, “Taylor,” “What?”
“Have you seen Jeff Reed lately?” Jeff was a friend of Quin-
ton’s who, for reasons Quinton couldn’t begin to fathom, had a
crush on Taylor. It might have been worked out fine, but Jeff
had, a) spilled milk on her in the cafeteria while trying to bow to
her, b) loudly and awkwardly flirted with her in front of every-
body in the school, and, c) thought he was the best thing since
sliced jello, so he thought he was doing an ‘awesome’ job with
Taylor, and considered her his girlfriend. Taylor thought.
“That brainless jerk? No, why?”
Quinton shrugged, and said, “He said today he had been
meaning to see you.” Their conversation was interrupted by the realization of what Taylor’s dad was saying hit. Mr. Flicker was
saying, “so he’s lying there, bleeding and cursing up a storm, so I
says ‘Hey, sorry! With that haircut, you look like a
deer!’” Quinton and Taylor didn’t know what to think of that.
After dinner, Taylor immediately went to her room to
‘examine’ the scepter. Quinton, on the other hand, immediately
went to the living room to ‘examine’ the TV. He watched some
dumb show about creatures that kids caught in red and white
balls on cartoon network, then some grade ‘B’ horror movie, and
a PBS special about the Roman Empire which was actually kind
of interesting. Then, at about 11’o clock, he turned on The Lion,
the Witch, and the Wardrobe, a movie that was admittedly bor-
ing. Still, Quinton had read the book and enjoyed it, so he had
high hopes.
Taylor soon joined him. “Any luck with the scepter?” Quinton
asked.
Taylor glared, and said, “Not yet.” As Taylor repeatedly
pointed out everything against the laws of physics with the mov-
ie, Quinton repeatedly told her to shut up.
“Taylor,” he said, when she pointed out that water can’t form
the shape of a human, “you’re missing the main thing that’s
wrong with the movie.”
“What?” “The lion talks, Taylor.” Taylor rolled her eyes.
The cousins started to fall asleep during the big action se-
quence at the end.
“There’s nothing like magical warfare to put you to sleep,”
thought Quinton sarcastically. He stayed awake just long enough
to see the scepter’s black sphere start to glow yellow. Suddenly,
it fell over. A blinding light, a quick whiff of ozone, and an older
teen appeared. Smiling, revealing pointed teeth, he roared,
“Freedom at last!”
“Huh,” said Quinton. He wondered if there were songs about
pina coladas and getting caught in the rain inside where ever the guy had been trapped. That would probably explain why he was
so happy to be out. Quinton just had time for it to dawn on him
how dumb that sounded before he fell asleep.
© 2015 Emmett Rashleigh All Rights Reserved
Alexandra Marchon
Emme� Rashleigh Ryan Breitmeyer
Emma Sewell
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