Gray area

A GRAY AREA Contents

A GRAY AREA – MRS. OLIVIER ......................................................................................................................... 4 “Twanged” – Daechang Suh .......................................................................................................................... 5 Cell 138 - Jacqueline Wood ......................................................................................................................... 14 Unaware-Jamie Cheeseman and Philip Kim ............................................................................................... 16 Snap! - Ellie Cho .......................................................................................................................................... 19 Dante’s Inferno – Joohun Kim ..................................................................................................................... 22 Dreams Come True - Yeonjae Choi ............................................................................................................. 26 White Lies, Crystal Tears and Gray Areas - Seungah Lee ............................................................................ 28 Where do I belong? – Alin Sung .................................................................................................................. 35 The Way Back Home – Joon Hyuk Sung ...................................................................................................... 37 Fade – Darren Kim, Paulina Lee and Gyueun Choi...................................................................................... 40 A dream come true- Krisha Chhugani ......................................................................................................... 44 You- Grace Kent .......................................................................................................................................... 47 Another me - Yuki Sugita ............................................................................................................................ 50 The Disappearance – Simon Kim................................................................................................................. 52 Villainous – Leah Park ................................................................................................................................. 56 Power - Minjoon Kim .................................................................................................................................. 59 Play or not: by Elliot Prest ........................................................................................................................... 63 Strange Brew – Gian Jung ........................................................................................................................... 66 Does fate control you? – Benjamin Shim .................................................................................................... 69 'Happiest Person' – Jeongin Park ................................................................................................................ 75 The Friendship Dilemma – Sam Sung.......................................................................................................... 82 Every moment of the day... Sooa Lee ........................................................................................................ 85 The Last Beat – Jakob Stehle ....................................................................................................................... 90 Your Typical Kind Boy – Iyan Yang .............................................................................................................. 92 Bully- Shessan Sivabalan ............................................................................................................................. 94 The Sin – Jasper Lee and Daehwan Kim ...................................................................................................... 97 Dean –Amalia Carney ................................................................................................................................ 100 Innocent betrayal – Kate Koo and Lois Lee .............................................................................................. 110 Dear Dorothy – By Siwon Lee.................................................................................................................... 114 1|Page

A GRAY AREA A key to happiness – Daniel Pak ............................................................................................................... 116 Mix of Emotions – Alex Livingston ............................................................................................................ 118 Inspired by “draw with jazza's” picture ........................................................................................ 118 Thud -Alice Kwon ...................................................................................................................................... 123 Desolation – Fumiaki Kawasuzuki ............................................................................................................. 125 The Flicker of Light – Ahyoung Seo ........................................................................................................... 129 The Plain Truth- James Lee ....................................................................................................................... 134 Spinning Jenny – Georgie Clare................................................................................................................. 139 The Suicide Secret - Ariana Rodriguez Reed ........................................................................................... 143 Liar - Jun Kim ............................................................................................................................................. 145 Secrets - Matthew Alemania..................................................................................................................... 150 Red fate -Dongchae Shin........................................................................................................................... 154 The Answer Shop – Sofia Masondo .......................................................................................................... 159 The Three Words-Sue Paik ........................................................................................................................ 164 Early Bird- Isabelle Fortaleza Tan .............................................................................................................. 166 Gray Area – Jean Ellise Kim ....................................................................................................................... 168 Kidnapped – Mary Kim .............................................................................................................................. 170 Should this Gray Area have an answer? - Haruki Yoshikawa .................................................................... 178 An Unwanted Surprise - Julie Howarth ..................................................................................................... 180 The Red Doll – Jim Bae .............................................................................................................................. 184 The Button – Alice Wang and Grace Kent ................................................................................................. 187 Pesticide – Hyunsung Bang ....................................................................................................................... 189 The Poem – Ana Coarasa .......................................................................................................................... 192 The Music Box – Yuna Han ........................................................................................................................ 197 True Love Waits – Handa Jung .................................................................................................................. 200 Her Last Shout Out – Kristen Cho.............................................................................................................. 205 Motivation - Lovro Golley and Martin Kim(HS)........................................................................................ 208 The Right Move? – Brian Han ................................................................................................................... 212 Grey Area- Gali Dekel .............................................................................................................................. 215 No Gray Area – Jason Jin ........................................................................................................................... 217 Unfolding Memories – Annette Lee .......................................................................................................... 220 Who am I? – Victoire Juery ....................................................................................................................... 223 2|Page

A GRAY AREA The Wicked Queen from Snow White – Joanna Jung ............................................................................... 226 Good Night – Jane Kang ............................................................................................................................ 230 Ross 128B – Nayoung Kang ....................................................................................................................... 233 Gray Area Between Black and White -Pablo Lee ...................................................................................... 237 The Wrong Color – Jed Lee ....................................................................................................................... 240 The Bullied Singer -Soojin Shin.................................................................................................................. 242 An Area That’s Grey -Daniel Park .............................................................................................................. 246 Wish –Snigdha Rai ..................................................................................................................................... 250 Never leave the pod -Jenny Suh and Stella Nass ...................................................................................... 254 Trust – Reina Roh ...................................................................................................................................... 259 The Tree- June Souk .................................................................................................................................. 264 The Circle - David Tung ............................................................................................................................. 270 Lost Memories – Saeha Kim ...................................................................................................................... 276 What is home? (A lazily written memoir) – Zayed Shaikh ........................................................................ 281 The Teacher Doesn’t Know – Angela Bang ............................................................................................... 285

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A GRAY AREA – MRS. OLIVIER So, what exactly is a gray area and why exactly did we choose to spend hours of time writing about it?

Well, when you are a KS3 student in an International school, gray areas are important. The world can be so painfully black and white at times. The media bombards us with images of what we should look like and act like; how we should speak and dress and think if we have any hope of belonging. And of course, will we ever belong? What if our passport says one thing but our mother tongue says another and both our parents come from different worlds and none of their worlds will ever be our worlds? Where do we fit in a black and white world when we don’t belong to either label?

Some students find their identities in the desire to always be the best - whether it is in academics or music or sport. Perfection is not a choice…it is the only choice, for some.

There is no gray area between success or failure.

Unless you are a student at Seoul Foreign British School. Our students celebrate the gray areas as little cocoons of safety, creativity and exploration. In fact, this anthology emerged from the research of a Stanford psychologist called Professor Carol Dweck who passionately advocated for students to be given opportunities for rich collaboration, challenge and failure so that they would find their inner worth based on their own individuality instead of measuring themselves by the constant need to beat others.

I believe that, especially in writing, children need gray, misty places to try on different voices and throw away the ones that don’t work. They need safe, murky clouds of creativity where they can thrash out moral dilemmas and identity crises and emerge with a deeper empathy and respect for the different cultures around them. The need to get lost in the gray challenges and whirlpools so that they are forced to ask for help and realize that there is dignity and not weakness in admitting that we cannot do things alone.

And that is why we are all incredibly grateful to Tim Gray and Kathleen Gray for providing such a warm place for young minds to evolve and for teachers to experiment with learning that is so much deeper than just tests and textbooks. This is why we dedicate these stories to both of you.

In our hearts, the British School will always be a “Gray Area”.

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“Twanged” – Daechang Suh Some thing is wrapped around my spine.

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

I don’t know if its friendly. I’m pretty sure it has tried to talk to me once or twice, but only in growling noises, which aren’t really speech, but patternless and primal. And I am the only one who seems to hear them; so I suppose it’s natural that I’m the only one bothered by this.

“You see her? She’s perfect, and you’re the opposite.”

It is heavy, this thing.

“Listen to me, stupid.”

It has curled-wire scales that poke up under my skin, making little patterns that look lovely but hurt like hell. Its heart- if it has a heart- may well be located in the thrum just between my shoulder blades, which sounds a bit like a rubber band being twanged back and forth. My doctors say that this sound is just my heartbeat echoing, but I do not believe them, because heartbeats cannot echo- reason being, the ribcage is crammed with stuff: lungs, memories, organs, blood, fears and faults and all of the things that we like to pretend are secret.

Even though they’re not. The thing

“You think you’ll pass that test? Nice joke. And then we’ll see if you really belong here. In this family.”

Day by day, the thing grows heavier. I walk bowed, now. My friends all joke that I’m old before my time (ha-ha!) and this is what comes of not getting exercise, and perhaps I need a cane? It 5|Page

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would not have to be a normal cane; they hasten to reassure me. It could be an interesting one.

With dragons.

“No, thank you,” I say, very politely, “I’m just fine.”

They are not convinced. They take me to see “doctors”, who cannot explain why I’m so stooped down. They examine me for marks and ask me if I have ever suffered trauma, and then prescribe various medications, which I cannot bring myself to use. The pills stare at me from their sickly yellow bottles, accusations of weakness.

“Are you living up to your expectations? Sorry...THEIR expectations? After all, you’re a Goldbrain. Father Goldbrain is the best lawyer in New York city. Mother Goldbrain owns 5 art galleries. Heck, it’s in your name! GOLDbrain. You’re supposed to be first. No, not PARTITIPATIONbrain. Not NEXTTIMEbrain. Where DID you go wrong?”

The pills do not reply.

You are so stupid, their silence tells me. You are so stupid, because you will not let anyone actually help you get rid of this thing. You are so stupid, because you are not only too afraid to try, but you don’t actually want to be rid of it, secretly. You are so stupid, because you think that you’re lonely, and you are stupid also because you think that you don’t mind.

The thing loves every word, squirming in delight.

“We love you just the way you are, Cordelia Goldbrain. You don’t have to be a scholarship winner like your brother…”

Really?

I start to wrap the pills up one by one in tissues and throw them away in the garbage. It makes me feel better, in a way- like I am accomplishing something, even if it is the exact opposite of 6|Page

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what I’m meant to accomplish. Perhaps I hope that someone will notice that the pills are dwindling, and think, “my, she finally buckled down! What perseverance! What an inspiring story that girl has!” Though of course no one notices, because no one else checks the number of pills so obsessively. Into the garbage they go, cocooned tightly in little wads of white tissue, until at last I have mummified the final pill...

But the pattern on my back is still growing. Every day.

I try yoga.

The only thing this does for me is make me feel rather foolish.

I try dieting, but it doesn’t work, because I break my diet in two days, thinking that perhaps it is this very focus on weight that is dissolving our societies and in any case I miss cake.

I try homeopathic remedies, which taste like rust and linger on everything eaten afterwards. I try to convince myself that they make a difference, but I know that they do not.

Finally, my friends give in.

“All right,” they say.

“It’s just your odd condition,” they say.

“We’ll write a book about you someday,” they say. “When we’re all rich and famous.”

And so I go back to cake and band-aids. I put all of my yoga books into a box, and leave it on the library steps, feeling like a mother abandoning an unwanted child- a failure of nature, in some inexplicable and undeniable way. Yoga cures everyone else, I think. Why didn’t it work on me?

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“I know what will take your mind off of things,” One of my friends- Lia- says, her eye shadow so caked-on that I have a feeling you could peel them off and find the exactly shape of her eyes, “There’s a circus in town.”

“It could be fun,” she says.

“You should go,” she says.

“What the heck,” I say, shrugging. It isn’t as if I have anything better to do.

The thing that I always forget at this stage, though, is how much I hate circuses themselves. The idea is fine, distant and full of the promise of masks and suitably vintage creepiness and interesting colors and unhealthy food, but up close these things look so much less real than they do in the mind. That’s what nightmares are, though, of course- things so down-in-theblood true that they seem to be obviously false. It’s our mind’s method of self-defense- filtering out all of the truly terrible as ‘fantasy’, as well as most of the truly good. The terrible can be fascinating, of course, but I’m not so sure anyone really thinks that they personally deserve the good, and for that reason it is hidden so much deeper than you might expect.

I go through the maze, the nasty, vomit-inducing roller coaster, the vomiting itself, and then hot dogs on sticks, covered in cornmeal. I am just about to leave, with a sore stomach and disillusioned, bitter feeling welling satisfyingly in my temples when I hear someone call my name.

“Cordelia, wait, please.”

I hesitate. Surely they don’t mean me. That voice does not belong to any of my friends. It reminds me of the way a child sounds, after she has cried herself out, and has no more energy left to smooth her words back into grammatically correct sentences. I mean, the voice used grammar, well enough- but there is the same feeling to it.

It reminds me of me.

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“Cordelia,” the voice comes from next to me, and I find myself looking at a woman in a bird mask, faded red feathers tickling the air around her face. “Come back to the tent of horrors, will you? I think you have a problem that a friend of mine might be able to sort out.”

“What problem?” I ask, thinking of the taste of my own spit, and how I really should never eat things after vomiting (or go to circuses) ever ever again- practical, inglorious, everyday things to be thinking about, especially right before something so very odd happens. But I don’t know it is going to happen, so I go right on thinking them.

“The one,” she says, “That’s curled around your spine.”

******

“Okay,” I say, quickly, before I can change my mind again. Her smile softens.

She leads me back through the tents, navigating sideways that I didn’t even know existed, walking between crimsons and greens and occasionally over types of paving I don’t remember seeing on the wide parking lot in which the circus is set- cobblestones and brick-ways and, at one point, a dirt path leading directly through a tent, which has a flourishing jungle inside of it, green and glowing- then back out into the stale city air.

The tent we are headed for seems no different, and when we reach it I am not even sure this is the one I ought to enter. I glance at her, and she nods encouragingly. I realize I don’t even know her name.

“Go on, Cordelia,” she says.

Inside of the tent there is a small grey room, that looks paradoxically cramped, considering the gaudy exterior. I suppose it might be possible that all of the gold paint and bright colors had made the tent seem larger than it was, like a bird fluffing up its plumage to appear frightening, 9|Page

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but I do not think so. Another woman, of undeterminable age, walks in. She is wearing no mask, and a plain black dress, with her dark hair coiled around her head like a crown. She is carrying a wooden box.

“This is the patient, then, I take it?” she asks, and her voice is warm and rich, but for some reason I trust it infinitely less than I do the rasping woman. The rasping woman nods, silently.

“You may go, darling,” the woman with dark hair flicks her fingers negligently, and at the ends of them I can now see that her nails taper into claws- talons, really- and her fingers are too long and too thin.

The rasping woman bites her lip, and gives me one last glance before she leaves, but I cannot tell what she is trying to say. Or trying not to say.

“Now,” the woman with dark hair smiles like she has a marvelous secret, “Let’s sit down, shall we? You take the bench.”

And indeed, there is a bench in the middle of the room- a wide one, made of decidedly unfriendly looking wooden planks, as harsh as concrete and stained the color of cold rain. It is long enough to be the base of a bed-frame, and shaped just enough like a coffin to worry me. I lay down anyway. It will make no difference if she kills me- the thing around my spine has been doing that for some time anyway, I am sure of it. Nearly sure. Almost exactly positive.

“Hmm.” Claws scrape and brush against my skin as she peels my shirt away from my back.

Goosebumps shoot all over me, and I can feel acid mumbling in the pit of my stomach. “I see.”

She turns back, and looks at me with much more serious eyes- bright green, I cannot help but notice. The green of EXIT signs. “I think I see the problem here. You have a shadow wedged up under your skin, and around your lumbar vertebrae.”

Lumbar vertebrae. It sounds ominous.

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“Do I need surgery?” I ask- not nervous, exactly, but not calm either- and she surprises me, flashing a mouth full of sharp teeth as she smiles.

“Heavens, no.” she says. “Have you ever had a splinter?”

“Of course,” I say.

“This will be almost just like that.” she says, and she smiles again.

Almost, I think. Almost, as in nearly, but not quite.

“What’s the difference?” I ask.

“Shadows are slightly larger than splinters.” She opens her wooden box, and takes out a pair of tweezers as small as eyelashes. “Close your eyes,” she says. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

I can actually feel her reaching the tweezers into a pore of my skin, and I can feel the snag, when they catch on one of the curled-wire scales of the shadow, like my breath is being pulled backwards on a hook, out of my chest.

“Ah,” I hear her say again, and I imagine her smile. It is terribly grotesque, in my mind- I find I cannot picture it exactly, but keep warping the edges into something of a death rictus.

The process of tugging the shadow out of me is excruciatingly slow. It is all wound up in me, she explains- like a tapeworm, in that it was thin and ribboning and miles and miles long, but not like a tapeworm, in that it is perfectly harmless other than for the fact that it would eventually have killed me.

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When she tells me to open my eyes, the shadow is pooled in a tumble of a glossy ribbon-like substance beside me. There is a wetness to the wood around it, as if water has been poured on the bench. When I ask what it was, the dark-haired woman shrugs.

“Blood,” she says, dispassionately, “Yours. Some blood was necessary.”

She does not say why, or, I think, a bit morbidly, for whom.

The scales of the shadow, that had been so sharp against my skin, are limp and sorry-looking, like flowers after a wedding. Picked, and discarded as easily as crumpled napkins. Somehow betrayed. For a moment, I wonder if I have done the wrong thing, taking that shadow out of me.

“Will it die?” I ask.

“It’s dead,” She says, wiping her hands off with a striped towel. Streaks of red follow her fingers. “And you should probably leave, now.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because,” she says, “You have a reason to. And because you can.”

*****

“‘So?” The rasping woman asks, waiting for me outside the tent. She is not wringing her hands, not exactly, but they are twitching, as if she wants to wring them but hasn’t quite the nerve.

She is clearly trying to convince herself not to worry. Why would she worry about me? I’m only a person. But, it occurs to me, maybe that’s the point.

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“It was a shadow,” I say. My own hands are shaking. I lace them together, and watch as the joints of my fingers whitened with pressure.

She sighs, “in- what? Disappointment? Relief?”

“I thought it might be,” is all she says. “You see them a lot, here. In the city.”

I look again at her eyes, which look back at me from over her plastic beak, black as vacuums.

The feathers of her bird-mask twitch in the barely-there breeze. I remember the other woman, locked inside the tent, inside her own heart, inside her own mind, with nothing but a dead shadow for company.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” I ask.

“Okay,” she says, and she smiles…

“Are you ever going to remember… the shadow? Like, are you going to want it back?”

*****

“Maybe,” I say, but I don’t clarify whether I’m answering her statement or just stating the word, as in, Maybe...

Maybe I will learn how to play the violin, or dance a waltz in the middle of the street, or bake a thousand cakes. Maybe I will smile at strangers. Maybe I will admit everything that shadow kept curled inside of me, and empty my ribcage of all of its insubstantial cargo. Maybe I will write it down, becoming lighter and lighter with every word until at last I am a hollow person, my blood effervescent, my every hair curling like the legs of a brittle star…

A shadow, trying to fill itself with sun.

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Cell 138 - Jacqueline Wood The cell was barely 6 feet by 4, a hollow concrete block. The prison itself was disorientating by design. Without any windows there was no way to tell what time it was.

Well, there was one . . .

Every day I sat in unmitigated silence waiting. Waiting for the familiar sound of a tin tray clanging against the narrow opening of which it was pushed through twice a day.

The silence was my constant companion, whether I liked it or not. The isolation was total and ‘they’ made sure of it. One cell per floor. 138 floors. Underground. Stimulation was zero, no sound or furniture of any kind and all I could do was feel the cool gray walls, but even they were perfectly smooth.

The one thing I had plenty of, was time. Most of which I spent replaying every moment I could possibly remember over and over in my head, fearing that if I didn’t I would forget . . .

I wake up at 4am. Why? Well, in part because I can. I have the freedom to start my day whenever I want. The only form of freedom I get. I don’t want to spend a second longer in this ‘cage’ then I need to so I always make sure to be awake and ready for when my cell unlocks at 5:15 am.

Wake up, wash face, brush hair. I’m a prisoner, not an animal. Even before getting thrown into prison I was impeccably clean and nothing would ever change that, not even this place. Leave cell, turn left, walk down 14 steps. This would take me down to the cantina. Another left turn, walk straight, turn right. Now I’m in the showers.

I had memorised every location on the compound within the first 2 weeks of being here. I knew it like the back of my hand. It was engraved into my brain and when I closed my eyes I could see the lines of a map, like a spider web of locations.

7:00am was our first roll call of the day. 6 rows of 23 prisoners. Always. If there was even a hair out of place they would beat you, and maybe a couple of others just to get the message through. Every inch of their bodies were covered, not a single area exposed. It made them feel powerful in ways. Like they were immortal, unlike the rest of us who wore paper thin jumpsuits that hung from our bodies like soggy lettuce.

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Everything went as it always had, then right before they dismissed us they called out 32 names.

Names. These were nonexistent in this place. Names meant personality and that wasn’t allowed. A name hadn’t even been uttered since we entered the compound, only numbers.

Carmen Moretto.

My heart stopped. They had called my name. My name. Without lifting my head, I got in line behind the others that had been called, trying not to draw any attention to myself.

The guard led us through a series of hallways until we got to a metal door. I had never noticed it before. Strange. A few seconds passed and a series of clicks and pops started. Double Cylinder Deadbolt, type E45. I could tell from the pattern and how deep they were. They were so secure that this type of lock had been banned in over 180 countries. Whatever was in that room had been so dangerous that they had felt the need to install this monstrosity of a lock . . .

One prisoner at a time, we stepped over and into this room. Looking around I could see four white walls. That was it. I was trapped inside of a hollow white cube. Before I could even process what was going on, the door behind us slammed shut.

Never to open again.

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Unaware-Jamie Cheeseman and Philip Kim *Based on the 5 stages of death*

One of the goals of this project was to encourage students to write outside of their comfort zone and to embrace challenge and failure as a crucial component of creative growth. Both Jamie and Philip really got into the spirit of this experience by choosing to write about a topic that required a lot of research. In addition, they decided to use different forms of poetry to represent the psychological process that people undergo when facing terminal illness. See if you can recognise their chosen forms…

Floating then sinking Gray sounds swim around the room And gild your body Joey seems to be getting along with the other children well! I had my doubts about leaving him in a daycare with him being so young but he’s so enthusiastic every day. He loves going to his daycare and making new friends. It’s been quiet in the house without Joey, and I feel like I’ve been dependent upon caring for his needs. With him going to play school I guess I can return to work... ***

I’ve been spacing out a lot at work; or so my coworkers keep telling me. I’ve been feeling paranoid about Joey. The others tell me it’s normal so I’ve just been pushing these thoughts to the back of my head. Still, I can’t help feel worried… (read in Iambic pentameter to mimic the baby’s heartbeat in the womb) A life, a road, a path, and then I hear A sound, renews: the love that beats within A novel starts so blank and ends so black Chapters begin, another route unfolds…

I got a phone call from the daycare. They tell me that Joey has a slight cold, and asked if I could go pick him up. I told my boss what was going on and she let me leave early today. Still something isn’t right. Joey seems a little pale but other than that his enthusiasm seems to remain. I decide that rest is probably the best thing for Joey.

Mother knows best, right? It’s just a cold but because it’s his first I’m a little worried. I guess that’s normal? ***

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It’s getting worse.

Everyone gets fevers every now and then. It could just be a common cold that got a little bit out of hand, but then again I could probably make a thousand other excuses and still be completely wrong. At least we’re at the hospital now. He's getting paler and paler by the second. I mean, what could possibly happen? Worst case scenario: we stay overnight at the hospital and Joey has to eat some medicine.

Nothing more to it.

I head over to the registration table and book an appointment for 3:25. About an hour from now. In the mean time I decide to fill out the form of all Joey’s symptoms. Just in case the doctors see anything unusual and decide that we need an emergency checkup. Not that I’m expecting anything of course.

It's been a good ten minutes since I submitted the form. No doctors have mentioned anything yet. That means everything’s all good, right? The door to my left suddenly opens and scares me. A young man wearing all white, presumably a doctor, is walking right towards Joey and I. I look around desperately seeing if there are any other patients around.

Why would the doctor be coming to us?

He asks if he can examine Joey right away because some of his symptoms look concerning. The doctors remove Joey’s blankets and clothes. Joey gives a small cry as I gasp. His body is painted with bruises. They immediately pop out, contrasting with his skin which looks even more ghostly and gray than before. The doctors in the room all begin to suggest different things that might be going on. Bleeding disorders, lack of protein, the list goes on and on until one doctor says the word “leukemia”. The room goes silent.

I can hear the soft whirr of a fan.

The doctors break the silence by telling me I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Anemia, lack of iron, heat exhaustion, more hypotheses. But the word leukemia seems to linger in the air.

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Please God, don't make me do this Please listen to my bitter rhapsody All I want is bliss The depression is surrounding me I’m feeling remiss ***

Positive.

The test results for leukemia were positive. Under the lab results the doctor has written a note. He says there are some complications with Joey’s specific case. He has booked us a private appointment, which is in an hour. My heart breaks every time I glance at Joey in the backseat of the car. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

The doctor is completely honest with me. Joey has Acute Myeloid Leukemia, caused by low blood cell counts, which was what had caused all the bruising and fevers. At such a young age there is a high chance of remission. This would mean that even though Joey might seem to be cancer free, it was very likely to come back. The 5-year survival rate was only 26%. I barely even heard everything the doctor had said. I replayed him saying “26%” over and over in my head. I had seen moments like this on the television, where the parents would lash out crying and screaming. I had no intention of doing this. I couldn't. Not in front of Joey.

There was more.

Acute Myeloid Leukemia caused a low blood count. The chemotherapy used to treat Leukemia had side effects of lowering blood counts. Together they could potentially cause internal bleeding, even… My hearing started to cut out, and was replaced by a sharp ringing sound as I saw the doctor mouth the word “death”.

It was up to me to decide. The chemotherapy would either save Joey, or give him a very painful death. The other option was to leave him be. I looked over at Joey who sat on the examination table, unaware of everything that was going on. Unaware that he was sick. Unaware of all the pain he is going to be put through.

I’ve accepted that this is what I have to do.

I was adrift and Was helplessly lost at sea, Then I learned to swim

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Snap! - Ellie Cho Crack! The fortune you seek is in another cookie. I sighed, my hands already reaching for another one. Snap! You love Chinese food. Last one, I promised myself. Crunch! Don’t eat the paper. I rolled my eyes, but opened one more. Split! Be on the lookout for coming events; they cast their shadows beforehand… ******************************** What I remember was walking down the hectic streets of Times Square. The next thing I heard was BANG! Three more gunshots followed and were left ringing in my ears as the crowd mobbed the sidewalks. People were flailing and screaming as they seemed to bolt from the side of the store. My instinct was to run and let myself be carried along the flow of others, but being the idiotic and inquisitive person I was, I soundlessly crept towards Macy's and peeked around the corner.

I could not unsee what I saw that day. ********************************* As I was led through the gray stone building, I saw typical desks, computers and screens; nothing dark or unwelcoming about this place as I had expected. The officer indicated, and I sat down on the stiff, metal stool. The officer, Mallory, sat down on the opposite side, studied me and spoke.

“Excuse us for the abrupt notice, sir, but as you can see, this is a very urgent matter. We would like to ask you a few questions about yesterday, as we have found you to be present at the time of a murder case thanks to the security camera.”

I nodded, and she continued on, “Would you please describe in detail what you saw and heard at that time?”

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Her eyes pierced mine sharply and I gulped, looking to the side, getting the impression that I should speak the truth, and nothing but the truth. So this was what it was like to be questioned in front of police. I sat up straight and gripped my clammy hands firmly, but stably.

“I was walking by the streets when I heard some gunshots,” I recounted, “ I, er… well, I was curious and went to look at what was happening. I saw a middle-aged man pointing a gun to the sky, but no one seemed to be hurt. He was staring at the sky and seemed to be muttering under his breath; I didn’t know if he was sane or not, and I finally came to my senses and ran back as the police and ambulances started to arrive, and I went back to my house.”

The officer nodded, and I could tell she was very satisfied with my answer.

“Thank you for your time; we will contact you if we need you for something else.”

I stood up and was led outside of the building, glad to see my car. I could just see myself curling up on the couch with some microwaved dinner from this afternoon, watching television and slowly falling asleep. I didn’t have any idea what happened today, and all I wanted right now was rest. ******************************** “Hello?” I hesitantly spoke into the telephone, “Who is this?”

A gruff voice rang out audibly from the other end, “I am a certified police officer working for the New York Police Department. I would like to question you about the odd incident near Macy’s yesterday; I could come to the Dunkin Donuts coffee shop outside your building in the next 30 mins so you wouldn’t need to come to the police station, for your convenience.”

“Well… er, of course I would like to help the police with their investigation, but -” “Then I will be meeting you in 30 minutes, thank you.”

“Excuse me sir, what is your name?”

A moment of the crackling ear splitting silence filled the air.

“I will show you my badge when I meet you. My name is so difficult to pronounce...,” the police officer replied somewhat eerily. The next thing I knew, the officer had hung up on me. I was supposed to meet this “officer”. A stranger. At my local coffee shop. I didn’t even know his name.

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40 minutes later I was waiting just as the officer had told me to do, but ten minutes passed and he still didn’t come. I was about to go back to my building thinking that this was a little joke, when a short and stout man tapped me on the shoulder from behind. He wore an officer’s uniform, but there were no name tags or badges. He was holding two steaming coffees and gave me a curt nod. I thanked him for the drink and took a sip as he started to interrogate me. I blinked my eyes unnaturally; I abruptly felt like I was in a dream, but I answered everything truthfully to my fullest capability.

“The man holding the gun was limping on his right foot as if he was hurt,” I told him. Was it just me, or did the officer whiten and shift his legs uncomfortably?

I scratched my head pensively, as my memory began to disentangle itself and I recounted all the small details and things I remembered. After some time, the officer, whose name I still didn’t know, checked his watch and excused himself. As he was walking towards the exit, I vaguely noticed him shifting his weight….as though he was hiding a limp on his right foot. ********************************* “How much did she know?” a stern voice demanded.

“Not a lot, except I forgot to use the identity serum to disguise my crooked leg; she probably noticed that, but I got away just fine.” he replied.

“As you know, she was the witness that was closest during the time of our act, so if she doesn’t know, no one does. Are you sure she drank the coffee with the-?”

“Yes, I made sure to put it in before handing it over to her. Everything went as planned.”

“Good work.” ********************************** Snap! Your game is over…

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Dante’s Inferno – Joohun Kim Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost….

I woke up surrounded by darkness tortured, beaten and abused by the atrocities of nature, stumbling across the paths of a savage, dark forest. Rays of sharp chills pierced through my body as I stood encompassed by the shadows of towering trees. The cutting winds howled across the entire forest unleashing swarms of broken decays of the deciduous trees. Where am I? “Hello!” I screamed into the distance “Hello? Anyone here?”

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear.

So bitter is it, death is little more; The wind replied with an agonizing strike towards my broken body. I lost balance as I toppled forward looking up into the endless black skies. The rough clouds looked as though it depicted the image of Satan’s dark abyss and I only found myself even more terrified of the gray path that lay before me. My heart pounded like an injured antelope desperate to survive. I knew that one thing was clear. Death was creeping upon the entire forest to haunt everything.

Everything.

I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way.

But after I had reached a mountain's foot, At that point where the valley terminated, Which had with consternation pierced my heart, Every morning seemed as dark as the night before and the darkness had swallowed any hope of life. I continued to follow the gray steps unsure of exactly how long I had been here. Hours?

Days? Weeks? Months? I had lost all the sense of time. I eventually reached the foot of a gloomy mountain that stood blocking the hopeless gray path that I had been following thus far.

‘I must go over it’ I thought determined to continue my path ‘If I get over that mountain, I can get out.’ The gray path that I had been following went through extremely tough and rocky parts of the mountain but I managed to bear through the road and ended up resting in a dead valley under the remains of a dying apple tree. I sat listening to the breeze and I could feel the entire field breathing through its cancered lungs and the heart pumping death and decay throughout the valley.

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“Why am I here?” I spat out loud as if I wanted the dark skies to listen. “What do you want from me?”

Silence.

“What do you want from me?!”

Silence.

Of course there is no reply. I thought to myself. I felt stupid talking to a forest. But I could not stop myself.

“Why….”

After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, So that the firm foot ever was the lower.

And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er!

And never moved she from before my face, The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion's aspect which appeared to me.

He seemed as if against me he were coming With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, So that it seemed the air was afraid of him; And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings Seemed to be laden in her meagreness, And many folk has caused to live forlorn For what seemed like years, I walked along the gray stones hoping that it would end someday.

The journey was exhausting and when my legs couldn’t take it anymore, I decided to lie down near the hill for a rest. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a leopard ascended upon my crippled body and sent me flying across the woods hitting a rock with my back.

“Aaaaahhhhhh” I moaned in agony as the beast roared viciously. Still trying to register what was happening, I yelled out “Please…. stop!”

In pain, I clasped my bleeding thigh with one hand and reached towards the creature with the other in a hopeless attempt to signal the animal to stop. But the leopard charged forward towards my shattered body and for as long as I could remember death seemed inevitable. Abruptly, the leopard was propelled back by what seemed like the shadows of a magnificent lion. The two beasts wrestled one another trying to bite each other’s necks. They’re fighting over me. I’m their dinner I thought. I need to get out of here while I still can. I grasped my thigh even harder to stop myself from bleeding and, with all my might, crouched deeper into the woods.

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I made my way as deep as I possibly could so that the beasts could not smell my scent. Suddenly, it came to me. No. I thought as I looked backwards How could I be so stupid? All hope was lost.

All of it. How could I be so stupid? I repeated that question to myself over and over again and I dropped on the ground and I still couldn’t believe it. I had lost the path. The only way home.

When I beheld him in the desert vast, "Have pity on me," unto him I cried, "Whiche'er thou art, or shade or real man!"

He answered me: "Not man; man once I was, And both my parents were of Lombardy, And Mantuans by country both of them.

'Sub Julio' was I born, though it was late, And lived at Rome under the good Augustus, During the time of false and lying gods.

A poet was I, and I sang that just Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy, After that Ilion the superb was burned.

But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?

Why climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable, Which is the source and cause of every joy?"

"Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?"

I made response to him with bashful forehead.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The leaves cried as if someone was stepping on it and it was getting louder every step.

“Who is it?” I cried into the darkness, “Whoever it is, I am armed and I won’t hesitate to strike!”

Despite the painful wound and the tears that were dropping on my cheeks, I tried to make myself sound as menacing as possible.

“Whoever you are, a man or a creature, show yourself!”

The pain had grown even worse and I could barely move my leg. I heard a chuckle in the darkness.

“I know that you are not armed. And I know of your wound” the voice said appearing into sight.

“I am neither creature nor a man. Not anymore at least. My parents were both from Lombardy and I was a poet that lived under the monarch of fair Augustus great nephew of Julius Caesar.

My name is Publius Vergilius Maro. Or you may simply call me Virgil” Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, Virgil, the Roman poet, seemed unbothered by the darkness that stood around us. As he helped me treat my wound, my strength started to return to my body and I felt much more relaxed.

“Virgil… do you know where we are?” I asked politely.

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“We are at the forest that stands guarding the gates of hell” Virgil smiled and replied softly as if this news was nothing.

I tried to keep myself as calm as possible. “Do I have to go through that path?” I pleaded desperately, “I’m sure there is another way” Virgil shook his head and looked down sadly on my wound. “I’m afraid that this is this path is your only ticket out. But do not worry, I will guide you and make sure you survive this journey.

You have my word” I nodded skeptical but determined at the same time. “My wound is much better now” I said standing up, “I am ready to face any creature that blocks my path” “Then follow me” Virgil spoke confidently as he walked towards the gray stones.

And I to him: "Poet, I thee entreat, By that same God whom thou didst never know, So that I may escape this woe and worse, Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said, That I may see the portal of Saint Peter, And those thou makest so disconsolate."

Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.

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Dreams Come True - Yeonjae Choi (inspired by “당신이 잠든 사이에”) Chromesthesia: a type of synesthesia in which heard sounds automatically and involuntarily evoke an experience of colour. ****************************************** I had a terrible dream. A dream in which you die. A dream in which I will never hear your colours again. Colours that I loved so much.

But what’s more terrible... is that this could be your future. ******************************************** I have chromesthesia. Since that isn’t enough, I dream the future. People would say, “Isn’t that a good thing?” That’s what I thought, in the beginning. I could avoid bad luck, and make better choices since I knew all the outcomes. But as if one side of the water is blocked, it will flow in another. If I avoid the bad luck, it will appear somehow in some other form. ******************************************* There is a piano on Sinchon’s sidewalks. Anyone can play it, whether they are musicians or not.

The shade of people playing the instrument was often charcoal gray. The player would press down on the notes, creating a series of this shade. It wasn't my favorite colour, but I quite enjoyed the shape this instrument created. However, the tint of this instrument I heard that day it was different. I was sure the instrument was the same, but...

The player - you.

Your piano looked like a large field of soft, glittering snow. It's odd, right? I should have seen the hue somewhere in between the dark and bright, but the tone of your notes were as bright and clean as the snow I once saw, as if showing how innocent and pure you were. When I saw the white, crystal notes gently piling, I fell in love with your shade. There was only one reason I was happy to have chromesthesia: because if you were playing the instrument, no matter how far away I was, I could know it was you that was playing.

When I saw your snow, I would just stand still, feeling the snowflakes landing on my skin.

Just like that, I was just standing, listening to your white, clear notes. We were not any closer; you would play your instrument and I would listen to your colour. But you can’t do this. I didn’t even dream about getting closer to you and your shade. It was the only hope of mine to stand this 26 | P a g e

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sorrowful life where I can’t even go to places with many people, because the shades would take over my vision. *********************************** In the dream, I saw hues I never wanted to see, entwining and choking you. The darkest black and the sharpest red, violently stabbing you. I knew the meaning of these tints - death.

And that was why I was waiting when you sat down to play. And I was waiting when the car skipped the red lights. And mounted the pavement. And moved towards you.

And hit me instead. *************************************** I wish this was a dream. A dream which can’t come true. Now, people will still hear your angelic, snow white music but I, no longer, exist to hear your colours.

Thank you, for letting me see a sound that I never saw before.

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White Lies, Crystal Tears and Gray Areas - Seungah Lee Historical context: South Korea recently passed an act that capped the amount of money that people could spend on gifts to teachers. In the past, some teachers would exploit “gift giving” as a way to force parents to pay for good grades. Students who did not pay were bullied and harassed until the teacher received “sandwich money” and then they were given favourable treatment.

Sookja “Bye, dear! Have a good day in sch-” Slam.

Of course, she doesn’t reply.

My dear little princess, Inhye… I only want the very best for her. She will not - must not - find out about the harsh truth of this world. What people do to hurt each other… if she finds out, it will be too much for her young and immature heart. The most I can do right now with my worthless body is to pay for her school, where she’ll be protected the most.

School.

It was always a place that I could only blindly dream about; Inhye would not have to do that.

She wouldn’t have to reach out desperately for something she can never reach… if I work as hard as I can.

My lovely daughter already has enough things to worry about at school, I can’t make her worry about money as well.

After all, if I could just have been a more obedient and womanly wife, he would have stayed with us. It’s entirely my fault, and I’m taking responsibility for my fault.

Inhye is all I have. I must do everything to keep her as the happy girl that she is now. Pushing back grief, I force my aching body to stand up and go to work. I am painfully aware that an agonizing time of humiliation awaits me.

Inhye She - the fake Inhye - slams the door forcefully.

I - the real Inhye - am full of guilt towards my mother.

My throat clenches up, and I have to swallow hard. I glance down at the floor with trembling hands and tears forming in my eyes. I can’t do this. Not anymore, when I know the truth.

After all, it’s not Sookja’s fault that he left us. It’s entirely his fault, and it’s the wrong people us - that are taking responsibility for his fault.

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I know that Omoni (mother) will never be able to erase the thought that her husband left because of her. But the thing is, her thoughts and her feeling of guilt and shame - everything is wrong. It is most definitely not her fault, but why does she have to be so - so Uh. Forget about it, Inhye.

Just for a moment, it feels like I can just go back in and tell my mother that I am sorry. Tell her that I knew what kind of harsh work she was doing for me. Tell her that I don’t need the education, and that I will work with her as well. Still, I know that I’ll be a coward again. I know that I will simply close my heart and ignore the guilt. It’s etched in my body - my pretense will never end.

I act like an immature and innocent girl who is tired of her annoying mother. I carefully craft the girl’s life, making it seem like she doesn’t need or want her mom.

Then I hope.

All I do is to hope and hope and hope selfishly, that my mom will grow tired of her daughter.

Hope that she will abandon her surly, complaining daughter and live her own beautiful life.

Hope that she will leave me behind to go forth, spread her own magnificent wings - her new life without me. She will surely become rich and happy as a singer, with her enchanting voice that could capture anyone’s attention. But I know. Nobody will ever want a star that is dented and sullied by a flawed family - I am her burden.

I’ve heard Sookja singing beautifully one day, while strumming her blue acoustic guitar. It mesmerized not only me, but the birds outside our windows as well. Time seemed to stop when her voice did its magic.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

For a moment, nothing could be heard and nothing could be seen. We were all fully absorbed in the story that Sookja was crooning out. Birds closed their busily chattering beaks; the brown pencil in my hand - which was busily dancing on paper - paused. Her gentle voice and the guitar’s warm strum caressed me, bringing both tears and a smile to my face at the same time.

The song ended; at the same time, the magic was slowly broken. Everyone was stunned. It was a lovely Sunday afternoon - completed with my mother’s voice, the guitar’s pleasant tune, and the warm sunlight pouring through the windows.

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her. I don’t have the courage to tell my mom directly to leave me, and I’m too weak to leave her myself. Because I’m scared, I pathetically dream that the mask on my face will bring me the results that I wanted. Unlike actors that can get off the stage when the play ends, my play will never end. My mask can never come off… and my mother’s spotlight will never shine upon her.

Sookja Students, younger than my own daughter, dirty the gleaming tiles by rubbing their muddy shoes on them. It’s not even accidental - they do it on purpose, just to hurt me. They tauntingly snigger at me and swiftly leave the bathroom. The “smart” and “educated” teachers glare at my “stupid” and “foolish” self with disgust.

It’s okay.

Nobody knows that Inhye has such a stupid mother, and from what her teacher tells me, she is always surrounded by kind friends. All I have to do is to pay for her school, and pretend I’m fine.

Then she’ll live a dignified and proud life, a life that I wanted to give her. But… why do I feel so cold and empty? I harshly bite my lip and force myself to not feel. I do not feel. I do not love; I do not hurt. It’s a rule that I have to keep, for my Inhye. I unwillingly shuffle towards the entrance of the bathroom to clean the mud on the tiles. All of a sudden, a beautiful voice flows into my ears. It’s the choir.

I can feel the ugly hand of envy and hatred slapping me harshly. Memories of my dazzling past walk up to me and violently choke me, screeching that everything is ruined because of me.

Everyone blames me, even myself.

Within the music room, the choir soloist sings joyfully like a free bird, full of potential; in the very next room, another songbird is chained up in a tiny little cage, with no light to comfort her.

Crouching down on the slippery floor, I scrub and wipe the dirt on the tiles until they were clean again. Then, finally a break was granted to the workers. Hidden in a cubicle, I cry mutely, tears trickling down my wrinkled face. This cubicle is my gray area, somewhere I can let my feelings overtake me. Allow the cracks in my heart to break me apart, at least for a short while.

Inhye At school, the other kids bully me. I have been bullied since Year 4. I’ve covered up my bruises and scars for 3 years, up to this day. Today, I’m thrown to the icy floor like a flimsy rag doll.

They spit on me hatefully, treating me like they would treat an abhorrent bag of trash. Stinging scratches. Purple bruises that are punched on yet again and again. Though sticky blood pours out of my scars, I can’t register any of the pain anymore. Mocking sneers are thrown at me, when I hear high heels click-clacking down the staircase. It’s a teacher. Obviously, they hear the sound as well, and skitter away hurriedly.

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When Mrs Jin comes down, all she sees is me. I’m covered in blood, bruises are flowering on my body, and my eyes are swollen shut. Obviously, she doesn’t care. Her mouth stiffens into a grimace, and her head turns away from me cruelly. The sound of high heels fades out, and I know that I am truly alone. Mrs Jin has deliberately chosen to ignore the scene of bullying, because she knows it will ruin the school’s positive impression towards parents if it’s reported.

It’s better that way. This way, my mom does not suffer, those bullies aren’t punished, and the school’s impression will still be as good as ever. It’s only me that has to endure the darkness, the scary feeling of being alone. It’s only one person that gets hurt, and everyone else will be fine. So I’m okay. … Am I? Am I okay? Is this even the right thing to do? Shouldn’t I stop acting and tell my mom? I continuously wonder. No answer to this question is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ - it’s a gray zone. And I always choose to hurt by myself, to say that I’m fine, to keep my mouth shut silently.

What I didn’t know was, the silence was broken for me by someone else, this time.

Sookja After a tiring day of work, I return home and check my inbox. There’s an email from Inhye’s homeroom teacher - Mrs Jin. What could the email be about?

Oh.

Oh. I see.

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That’s what was involved with Inhye’s grades dropping. I saw her doing her homework and working hard at home - which the grades did not reflect at all - so I was already aware that something fishy was going on.

If money is what Mrs Jin needs to “help” Inhye, then money is what she’ll get. But where would I be able to get the money from?

An old acoustic guitar - a precious gift from my mother - was what popped into my mind. A faint smile floated up onto my face from remembering the numerous afternoons I spent with Inhye in the past, playing the guitar and singing along. Immediately, reminders of what would have to happen to the cherished guitar disrupted my sentimental remembrance. The soft smile was cleanly wiped away and replaced with a stiffer expression. It couldn’t be defined as either a frown nor a smile.

‘Sookja,’ I reprimanded myself, ‘you knew that your dreams could never be achieved anyway.

Why are you hesitating? It’s entirely your own fault that this had to be done anyways. Stop being selfish and sell that thing away.’

Grabbing the guitar harshly, I firmly stomped outside to go to the nearest shijang (marketplace). I had a friend there who could sell it for me. My sadness, full of greed, seemed to pull me down into a deep swamp. A bitter, metallic taste fills up my mouth. Blood. The old habits that disappeared when Inhye came to me are starting to reappear. Although I know that I should stop, my teeth continue to tug at the soft flesh inside my cheeks. The glittering shards of the dream that I could have clutched, mockingly twirled in front of me, singing to me that I could never grab on to them. I already knew it.

I always knew it, since Inhye was born and he left me.

Inhye Another tedious day at school has ended - it’s time for me to pretend again. I - no - she, the actor, forcefully kicks open the door with anger towards Sookja.

“Welcome back, honey!” I hear mom’s voice… but it’s oddly bright - too bright, really. Her happiness does not seem like it’s real. As a professional actor, I can tell which emotions are fake and which are real. Today, her upbeat disposition is definitely a thin cover of something that she doesn’t want me to know. What could it be?

I tweak the girl’s attitude, so that she looks like she can manage to listen to Sookja’s worries and help Sookja. Sookja would probably then tell me about what’s bothering her.

“Did anything interesting happen today?” She asks with a disinterested voice. “… No, Inhye.”

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I noticed the few milliseconds of hesitation before Sookja said no. Omoni was always bad at lying. Now I’m seriously worried - mother never even shows her negative emotions in front of me in the first place, unless something very, very bad had happened to her. The fact that she’s hiding it makes me worry further. I let more worry from the real me seep into the fake Inhye’s voice. The worry can’t be obvious though, because fake Inhye was always rude and indifferent to her mom.

“Are you sure? Because your voice sounds weird.”

As soon as I said that, mom’s eyes glanced almost imperceptibly at something. Sookja’s eyes kept returning to the same place, her glance becoming more noticeable. I ignored the first few glances, but when she continued to do so, I followed her stare. The wall that she was looking at… was empty. The wall that mom’s precious blue guitar was originally leaned up against was plain. No guitar. That was what she was trying to hide from me. She sold the blue guitar; she sold our memories.

“What were you thinking, mom?” I screamed angrily, throwing all of my facade away. What mom did made me go completely crazy from anger. The blue guitar, and the memories contained in it, was priceless. But Sookja just got rid of it. Like it was nothing more than a bit of dirt. Like it was trash.

Am I like the guitar too? Am I of no importance as well? Can I easily be abandoned by her at any time, just like the guitar?

But wasn’t that what I wanted to happen?

While all these thoughts were tangling up in my head, mom was standing like a statue, shocked from my sudden outburst. I felt guilty all of a sudden, and tried my best to push back all my doubts and worries to firstly explain my anger to her.

“Mom. I noticed that the guitar is gone. Did you choose to throw that away?” I quietly questioned through clenched teeth. That’s when mom’s eyes widened, understanding why I was suddenly so mad. Then guilt and shame seeped through her wide black eyes. Sookja avoided my eyes.

“I… I’m sorry, Inhye.”

She isn’t denying it.

I honestly don’t know what all my acting up to this point was for. Betrayal slammed its knife into my back harshly. The knife was twisted multiple times, just to inflict more pain on me. It succeeded. It hurts too much.

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I turned around to hide the tears trickling down my face. I calmly walked towards the door, and placed my hand on the door handle. When I was about to walk out of this hell, mom spoke again.

“I threw the guitar away. It was important, yes, but not as much as you. I sold it for your future, for your grades.”

I froze. What did she just say?

“You are my most precious gift, treasured so much more than that guitar. You are a blessing to me. Don’t you get it? You are my everything. I could do anything for your happiness. I could sacrifice my future for your own, Inhye.”

I turned slowly. My clammy hands were trembling slightly. Tears were sliding down uncontrollably. A warm feeling spread through my body.

“Inhye, you are my greatest song.”

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Where do I belong? – Alin Sung 내가 속한 곳은 (where do I belong)? 你來自哪個國家 (where are you from)?

What is my nationality?

Can you answer these questions?

These questions are normally genuinely easy for people to answer. Although for me, the first three questions actually have been complicated to answer. My grandma always told me that I am Chinese because she is Chinese and my grandpa is Chinese, however, I was born in Taiwan and my mum and my mum’s family are all Taiwanese. However, I never lived in Taiwan or China as our family have been living in South Korea. I know South Korea’s history more than any other country’s history and I also speak more Korean than Chinese. To make things even more complicated, my father has an American citizenship, so I am technically American, as I have an American passport.

If YOU were like me, what would you say?

I have two passports. When I travel around, I can either use my American or Taiwanese passport.

In cases when I am traveling to Taiwan, I would use my Taiwanese passport when there are lot of people waiting in line to enter the customs I could go to the other entry that is for people who have Taiwanese passports, therefore I could go faster than others. Consequently, I think there are also some benefits of being a dual citizen.

But how about a situation like cheering for your nation in the Olympic games? If you were like me who would you cheer for? For me, I would cheer for the Taiwanese team first and then South Korean team and then American team. I support these countries but in this order because even though I had never lived in Taiwan, I still identify as a Taiwanese person, moreover, I would cheer for the South Korean team more than the American team because South Korea is the place where I had spent all my childhood.

Unlike many, I had to learn more than one language. I currently live in South Korea, so I had to learn Korean in order to communicate. Consequently, I had to go to Korean kindergarten to learn Korean, after finishing learning Korean in kindergarten, I had to go to a Chinese primary school to learn Chinese because all my family speaks Chinese, so I had learned six years of Chinese.

After graduating from Elementary school, I decided to go to SFS to learn English, I decided to learn English in Middle school because I felt English was important. So that was the reason why I started learning English.

Do you think I will learn another language?

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I have three names. My name in English is Alin, in Chinese 亞霖, in Korean 아림 as you can see, I have different names in different places, people call my name in different languages, such as, when I’m in school, my friends and teachers call me in English. Outside of school, people call me in Korean. When I’m with my family, they call me in Chinese, so I have been called different things in different places.

Because I have learned three languages, when I speak to someone like my mum, I usually mix the languages together. I think many people do mix the languages. Additionally, for me, sometimes I feel it is easier to speak with mixed languages. Sometime when I want to say something but I don’t know in some language, I just say it in another language.

Where is the place that you feel is your hometown? Is it where you lived for longest? Or where you were born? Some people say where they feel they belong to is where they were born.

Although in my experience, I believed my hometown is Taiwan because I was born there, I visit my maternal grandmother on summer break or winter break. However, when I’m in Taiwan I don’t understand what kids are talking about because they speak Taiwanese often. What is the trend for them now? Furthermore, to supplement on this, food is another reason why I feel different in my hometown because I have spent all my childhood eating Korean food therefore when I’m out of Korea for a long time I will miss the Korean food a lot.

It is great to be a dual citizen, from my perspective.

Around the world, there are teenagers around my age, that are in a similar situation to me. They get bullied just because they are a dual citizen. Even in my class, I knew a few of my classmates that also did not really like dual citizens. I also found that most of the European countries and North and South America have allowed people to be a dual citizen, however, when it comes to the Asian community, they are more resistant to those people that have a dual nationality.

And people should not be bullied because they are dual citizens or different to you. Moreover, it is funny how people who have the same nationality could get bullied just because they came from another country; this could change the person’s ENTIRE life. In this respect, people should not get bullied because there are no reasons that could be accepted to bully a dual citizen because they are also a human being.

Being a dual citizen is a hard thing because people like me have not chosen to be a dual citizen but people think that we just want to get benefits; however, everyone should be treated equally no matter where they come from, what languages they speak or even they are a dual citizen.

The most important thing is that we don’t need to like everything they do, but we still need to love them.

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The Way Back Home – Joon Hyuk Sung “That was the warmest hug I ever had in my life…”

Flashback I never knew my parents. I only remember a short glimpse of them. I only saw pictures of them. I live with my aunt and my busy uncle in a lovely home with lovely people… But I miss my REAL parents. I love my aunt and my aunt loves me but… she’s an alcoholic and my uncle is barely home. The pictures hanging on my bedroom wall - my family photos - make me dream of my parents every night...

I go to an ordinary middle school downtown on Oak Street. I have a somewhat normal life like the rest of my lame friends at school. Not much to my life… But I’m different (In a way) I don’t have parents…

The first 13 years of my life were pretty normal until a few weeks ago when I started to hear voices which sounded like a grown man was talking to me!

“I miss you…” whispered the voice.

I felt like that voice was my father sometimes. I never saw him but I miss him too. I started a plan - a plan to find my parents. I don’t care if they were dead or not but I wanted to know the actual story of what happened. My aunt told me that they died in a car crash but I could tell they were lying by the face on my uncle. I talked to my aunt once about the quest to find my parents.

They didn’t deny me. I didn’t care if my parents were dead or not. I wanted to find who my parents were; if they’re dead, I want to see their grave and greet them.

After a long period of time, which felt like a thousand years, I decided to go find my passed away or maybe even alive parents.

“What if they’re real?” I spoke to myself, I wanted to know the truth…

Desperately…

************************************ As I was confidently walking out the house to start my dangerous (is it dangerous?) but exciting journey, my aunt rushed over to me and handed me an old, odd and rusty bag.

“What is this?” I question her.

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“It’s your father’s work bag… I thought you might need it to find them…” squeaked my aunt.

As I questioned what the old bag was, I thanked my aunt and marched out the house full of energy that I could burst up like a happy toddler at Christmas. While galloping like an excited horse, I opened the briefcase hoping for something perhaps like a clue that would help me find my parents.

As I carefully sat down on a bench next to the sidewalk, I carefully opened the bag and started to examine the bag like a hunter looking for a piece of meat. I found my dad’s glasses, a calculator, and some old files talking about ways to develop the city that are probably useless now days because of all the technology we have to develop the city but I still read it.

The only thing on the file was a small map and something related to a scientific calculator with hieroglyphics written on it. I slowly started to stand on both my feet and walk towards the train station - which was 300 meters away. I started to pace myself towards the station hoping for something intriguing or something that might change my life. Perhaps something like finding my parents. As I got closer, I brought out the calculator and tried to insert some random numbers to observe what it might do.

It did nothing, Absolutely nothing, Just nothing…

This got me pretty disappointed because the file had a relationship with the calculator. But maybe it was fake? I don’t know. As I thought of more theories that could be possible, I reached the station. Nervously, I stomped down the dark and mysterious staircase. While walking through, I gazed upon a spectacular symbol on the ceiling. In a matter of seconds, the lights switched on as if they were waiting for me to arrive. I still had my calculator in my hand somehow. I walked towards the place where you put your money in to ride the train. I put my money in… but it didn’t seem to work. I tried it a few dozen times but I just started to get mad.

In total rage, I smashed the calculator against the wall and it shattered into a million pieces.

However, tens and thousands of coins fell to the ground and scattered among the tiles on the platform. I picked a hand full and wonder what this could mean. The coins were not normal coins and they had matching symbols with the symbol at the entrance to the gate. I went to place the coin back where the real money failed. It didn’t dispense it back out but it didn’t do anything either…

“What could this mean?” I pondered to myself.

“What do I do?” I wondered.

I thought about the 300 meters and what they could mean and I pondered - what if 300 stand for 3 coins?

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I dash over to the machine and put 2 extra coins in. As this happened, I heard a loud rumble and the floor shook; I stood still. Out of nowhere, when people would least expect, a 21st century train shot out of the floor and the inside of the train seemed to be very technological. I walk in the door and my heart started to beat like an African drum. I walked in very afraid, and I turned to my right a…. And… I became speechless…

My dad was standing right there and like a miracle, my mom opened the carrier door from behind him…

I stood there…

Speechless…

And then, a soft tear ran down my delicate cheek…

I ran towards my parents and they gave a huge, warm and lovely hug!

“And that, in fact, was the warmest hug I had ever had in my life…”

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Fade – Darren Kim, Paulina Lee and Gyueun Choi Imagine your world. What do you see? Blue skies? Urban cities? Loved ones?

Now forget everything. Everything you know; everything you need; everything you love.

Because that is our world.

There is nothing...

Only us three.

The Gray Ones are taking over. I thought I would be all alone... until I met them.

I’m one of the three. Rena. Fifteen and living alone. My parents died in a car accident 10 years ago, and my aunt sent me to an orphanage when I was five. No childhood, no family, nothing.

But what’s new?

Everyone here is the same. It’s not like much changed ever since the Gray Ones started to take over. * * * Hi. my name Mabel. My age fiftin years old. Everthing gray and scariey. I no no one but my freinds. Rena and Fliyn. My foraver freinds. They luve me! I don't kno why everone is so derk and rowbotik Its wiard! But I hav my freinds and they like me to!

I sometymes think that the poepl dont like me beecuase they nevar talk to me and i alown eccept when me wyth rena and fliyn! When i talk to the straynjurs dont answr and me is sad but its ok i luve them anywai. * * * I feel alone.

I prefer it that way. That’s just who I am.

Being a Gray One wouldn’t be too hard, I think. They don’t have to pretend to care.

I pretend to care. For them. They trust me. They think I love them.

I don’t care. For anyone. They shouldn’t trust me. I don’t love them.

They don’t know. Rena and Mabel.

I plan for it to stay that way.

We have been friends ever since we could learn how to walk. Flynn, Mabel and I were always dependent on each other to survive this emotionless, cold world.

But it wasn’t always like this. The gray ones weren’t always “gray”.

At one point, there were others like us; they were colorful too. People talked, people laughed.

We weren’t alone - we had others to rely on; others to love.

Now it’s just us. * * *

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Rena and fliyn call the other gruay ones. I dont now what that meens! Gruay is just colur.. write?

I like to talk to poepl but thay no talk bak to me. Thay just luk at me wierdly and wok away. Its ok… im sure they have a reeson to. * * * Life makes me feel sick. We live to survive; there is no fulfilment, no spontaneity. That was what fuelled my thrills, my enjoyment for life.

It all went away. Because of them. The one genuine connection between me and them is our resentment of them. They took away what mattered most to us.

I hate how similar I am to them. It makes me despise myself.

That’s why I try to manipulate myself. I try to be like the others. They want me to be like them.

They depend on me.

They should. Otherwise it won’t work.

Rena’s parents…

The first stage is close.

Now I need a band-aid. My cut is still bleeding.

Curse my shoelaces.

I miss my parents. I wish I could tell you what they look like, but I barely remember my earliest memories. I try to forget them; remembering everything would make it much worse. Perhaps there was a reason our paths have never crossed. Perhaps it was meant for me and my parents to never be together.

It doesn’t take away the pain. I can’t ignore them.

I want to see them.

But do they? * * * Today fliyn told rena and me we are going sumwhere tomorrow. I don’t now where we going but i am exaited! Its been a long time sinse we went on a trip. Drieving elegal here but no one cares.

Flyin a grate driver and rena listen to music. Me just play with my toys! Grey ones dont do anithing and look scary and tall and wierd and scariey and blueh. Glad we are leaving!

But Flyin seems strange. He hasn’t been talking.

What going on? * * * We’re here. Finally.

15 years of waiting; it’s finally here. I’ve had to endure the toil of a relationship, the weight of two people riding on my coat-tails.

They should be close.

I almost feel bad for them. Perhaps I have imprinted myself too much on the others. Perhaps we are too close now.

I wonder if I can pull this off.

Draining the emotion. Bleeding it dry.

One overwhelming, final cut.

A car accident…

I know what happened.

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Missing.

Her aunt knew.

Her parents had to leave. They didn’t want her to see them turn grey.

They had to...

My shoelaces are ripping.

Two mundane figures drift across the park, toward three adolescents, walking together, as if in solitude… together.

The two groups meet.

One continues walking.

One of the trio stands back.

One rushes forward.

The two others walk by.

One figure stands alone.

Two figures stand undeterred.

One drops to fidget with his shoes.

Rena seemed sad today. I don’t know why but she is very sad. I am sad to. I don’t like it when my friends are hurt. It hurt me to. Flynn doesn’t care and he just walk like a zombie. It’s scary.

He is always there for rena and me. Always there for me! Oh yea i saw two people walking across us. They look strange and rena look surprised. Its ok I still love living and love my friends. I will be there for rena and flynn. Forever!

I don’t know if Rena and Flynn feel the same though. They haven’t been talking.

Am I missing something? *

*

*

They didn’t look back.

I called them, no answer.

There is a feeling inside my heart, a sharp pain. The pain of realizing that your parents forgot about your existence. Never knew that could be possible.

“Who are you?” they replied.

“Mom I’ve seen you in my photo albums, I’m your daughter” “Sorry, I don’t have a daughter, go look for your mother somewhere else.”

Ouch.

Oh well.

Memory fades.

I don’t care. One bit. *

*

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I need new shoes. Mine have worn out.

I think my final days are coming. Rena has changed. No longer optimistic. Progressively… inhumane. The colour seems to be… draining from her face. Pallid.

Gray.

Mabel is beginning to change as well. Once, agonizingly ignorant, she now begins to perceive, begins to notice subtleties she would never have detected. Yet, as she begins to see more… something seems to be missing. As if the vibrant tones in her eyes have resorted to trancelike streaks of monotony.

Perhaps I have gone too far.

There is a presence in me, a gut-wrenching feeling inside.

Remorse?

I’m beginning to regret doing this.

Why did I decide to do it?

It’s beginning to fade.

I don’t know what’s real and what’s false. Flynn’s eyes are grey. Can a human eye be grey? He looks like the rest of them. The grey ones. His hair that was once black is now fulfilled with strips of grey, covering most of his natural hair. I don’t want Flynn to leave us. Our friendship is the only thing left that makes us... us. Rena is also changing. After seeing the two people walking across her, she hasn’t spoken once. All she does is look at the floor, doing nothing. Seems like everything is changing and I don’t like it. There is no way we are going to become grey… right?

I feel alone.

I prefer it that way. That’s just who I am. But do I? Am I? Being a Gray One wouldn’t be too hard, I think. They don’t have to pretend to care. But did I want to be one?

I pretend to care. For them. They trust me. They think I love them. Did I? I don’t care. For anyone. They shouldn’t trust me. I don’t love them. Or did I? They don’t know. Rena and Mabel. They never will.

I plan for it to stay that way. But is it worth it?

Most stories end with a happy ending. Not mine, not Mabel’s, not Flynn’s. We’re special. In the worst way possible.

But it may have been for the better. *

*

*

Rena, Flynn. Their names ring a bell in my head. Why? The memory is fading…

Fading to grey.

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A dream come true- Krisha Chhugani As daylight turned to dust, I was staring out of the grubby plastic window, watching all the wealthy children prance (to school) with a grin on their face. Every day, I would teach myself school work with books that I find on the mucky floor. Night and day, I would dream about going to school and being phenomenal at studying.

“Dad, how much money did you earn?”

Every day those were the first six words I would whisper to my dad every morning.

My dad owns a compact, mini, cramped store to earn money; however, lately his store hadn't been doing so satisfactorily.

“Aarya, I told you we haven’t earned enough money for your education,” and those were the exact same thirteen words he would use to inform me every day. Just the thought of going to school excited me, and made me want to spring up and down and all over our miniature grey cabin.

“BEEP BEEP!” I dashed to the window like electricity to watch all the children leap out of their gargantuan, lemon yellow school bus. I would overhear them complaining about the tremendous amount of homework they got. How could they even complain?

Every day, I would go outside and look for snacks that people throw in trash cans. Sometimes, I would be walking in the streets; people would just push me as if I was invisible.

I had no friends. I was all alone.

I always smiled at the children around me. However, they dashed away as if I was a dog and they were cats.

Sometimes, it hurt seeing all the school girls walking and giggling together because I was alone and they had each other.

Over here, there is nobody like me. Everybody has friends and everybody has a proper home.

Just like any other ordinary day, I was getting fresh air and strolling around the supermarket. In a blink of an eye, I spotted a few young girls my age giggling. I walked passed them and smiled.

“AHAHAHAH, what are you,” Jessica exclaimed.

“Hi, I’m Aarya,” I replied.

“We know” Jessica smiled.

Jessica shoved me away like I was trash.

“You look like you came out of my trash can,” Jessica shouted.

All the other girls chuckled and started to shove me away. They insulted me like I was a piece of garbage.

“Never talk to us again, ok,” Jessica cried.

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I dashed away like the speed of lighting. I went back home and bawled my eyes out.

As the grey clouds engulfed the colossal sun, I was staring outside the greasy window glancing at the girls that shoved me yesterday.

“Aarya, let’s go outside and get some air,” mom pronounced.

“Now, why not in twenty minutes,” I muttered.

My mom pulled me out of the cabin and the girls were right there. They sniggered at me and I looked like a terrified dog.

“Are you ok?” mom questioned.

“Ummmm, yeah... let’s just go home,” I replied.

(Few days later) “We have to get the money for her education. This is insane. She is teaching herself and we can’t make her live like this anymore,” mom explained.

“It’s fine, she will grow up to be strong,” Dad replied.

“No, she will grow up and teach her children to live like this, and you know what… if you don’t want to get the money, I will myself,” mom exclaimed.

Mom dashed out of the room and knocked on people’s house doors and asked if she could do their dishes and they would pay her. One house agreed, however my mom had to work for 12 hours a day. Every day, mom used to leave the house at 4 am so she could walk for 2 hours to be there in time.

One day, I decided to watch her go to work.

“Hi, I’m Hannah and I’m working here,” exclaimed my mom.

“Yes, come in,” a frightening voice replied.

My mom tiptoed in the house like it was a haunted house. “Pass me that water,” the grumpy man yelled.

“Yes sir,” my mom sweetly answered.

From that point on all my mom did was work. She would run from one corner of the house to the other. They would hit her if she did something wrong or if she made a mistake. Sometimes, they would not pay her because she forgot to wash one dish. My mom would come back at even 2 am sometimes. However, my mom didn’t tell us where she went but she would always return with bruises or cuts on her skin.

I decided to follow her again. I wondered where she went every day. She was walking for a long period of time without any breaks. Then, once we arrived, she knocked on the door of this stunning, colossal palace. When she knocked on the door an old, bad-tempered man opened the door. Then he started to tell her that she was ten minutes late. I tried to sneak into the house but it was too late; the old man slammed the door and then my mom was screaming like a radio. I just sat outside the palace waiting for my mom to come out.

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I went to the back of the house and I saw what he was doing to my mom. He threw her like she was a beach ball.

“Oh hi,” Jessica exclaimed I didn’t answer her, she saw what was happening.

“I heard your mom was working here to earn money,” “Yeah she is,” I replied.

“Why don’t you just earn money for your family,” Jessica snickered.

“How?” I questioned.

“Well, come and I’ll show you,” She explained.

I followed Jessica and she said I could enter a store and steal amazing, stunning necklaces from this necklace store and sell them at my dad’s store. I didn’t know what to do: should I stop my mom from getting hurt or steal from a store? I was confused but I couldn’t watch my mom get hurt anymore.

We went to this store full of jewelry and she made me sneak in and she dashed away. I took a few necklaces and rushed out of the store as if a snake was in there.

I gave those items to my dad and he questioned me. However, I told him I found them but he wouldn’t believe me. He eventually was able to squeeze the truth out of me and I went to return them.

I rushed back into the store and returned them however I couldn’t get out. I tried opening the doors but they were locked from the outside. I didn’t know how to get out. I was there for about 4 hours then I spotted my mom strolling past the store. I banged the door and she spotted me and took me out of there.

“Why were you there?” mom questioned.

“Oh umm… I saw you, mom. You were getting hurt by an old man,” I replied.

My mom explained the whole thing to me; she told me she did that to earn money for my education. We went back to our miniature cabin and spoke about how we are going to earn money.

My mom quit her old job and started to work in another house and they treated her extremely well. Furthermore, my dad tries to sell more things in his store.

As for me? I try to learn school work as much as I can so when I do finally join a school, I will be prepared.

I know that, one day, my dream will come true.

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You- Grace Kent I pulled against the ropes with all my might but they wouldn’t give.

“Don’t bother,” a voice muttered out of the darkness.

I looked up to discover a thin, frail girl bound with the same ropes. Although it was as dark as a moonless night, I could see her bloodshot eyes and bruised wrists.

“I already tried…” ********************** You You wish you could tell him to give up. You wish that you could stop yourself from feeling hope. You’ve been here for who knows how many months, they took away everything from you: your family, your life and your faith. But yet, a little part of you hopes that things might be different this time, things might change. A spark of hope is all it takes to ignite a fire and you wonder, could you escape? *********************** My head hurt, my arm throbbed and my whole body feels like it had been beaten by a wooden stick. Blood trickled down my arm with a steady drip, drip, drip. The wound was shaped like bite marks with purple infection spreading along my forearm and pus oozed out of the center like a snake worming its way through a floorboard. The walls surrounding us were a stark grey colour, encasing us in an emotionless room. The girl across from me had her eyes closed as if she were trying to endure the pain and come to terms with what she was going through. ********************** You He thinks that you close your eyes to endure the pain but the truth is, you close your eyes to escape it. You imagine your mother, laughing as her long blonde hair swayed in the summer breeze. Your father is reading the newspaper lounging on a beach chair with his gold rimmed sunglasses on. Your sister covering herself in the glimmering sand and building castles as tall as the Eiffel Tower. See, you wish you were back there, you wish that you could be with them, but you know that that will never happen…

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*************************** It seems like time itself doesn’t exist in this place. I could have been here for years or days and yet I have no clue. We are slid a plate of food occasionally to share by whoever is keeping us captive. It consists of a mound of sloppy meat and stale bread but tastes as rich as a thousand diamonds whenever I get some into my malnourished body. The only thing keeping me sane is this book and pencil each of us was given. I hope that one day, when I’m gone someone will remember me and will find this book and cherish it. *************************** You You gave up on the book weeks ago. No one is coming for you. You are alone and sick.

Every day you remember something new about why you’re here and you don’t want to tell him because you know he will become like you. He still believes someone will find us, but they won’t because we’ve been bitten. We might as well already be dead. ******************************* The bite infection is spreading. The purple infection creeping up my arms like vines upon a tree. I’m so hungry, no food has been given for a while. I would literally eat anything right now, even a human. Is that weird? My stomach feels like a pit without a bottom that will never be filled. What is happening to me? Have i gone insane? I don’t want to die here, i am still so young. I have a family to go back to and love, i have friends and a life to continue living. Where are the police, where are the people supposed to be looking for me and saving me? are my parents even still looking, or have they given up too, just like she has.... **************************** You He is getting worse by the minute, you watch him gnaw at the ropes and desperately try to escape. You know that soon he will not only be gnawing at the ropes, but at himself as well. He is still writing but you know that soon enough he will be too sick to comprehend what is happening. You have already lost your sense of time, you could have been here for weeks, months but you don’t know. The world is ending, but yet this infection is just the beginning. You see his name written on the front of his diary: Hunter. *******************************

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the girl looks at me with sorrowful eyes as if she is trying to tell me something. i try understand what she means but i cant. the blood percolates down my cheeks as my tears are no longer clear but red. it hurts bad. my stomach lingers for food and i find myself drinking my own blood to quennch the thirst that is overtaking my body. i am going to die. i remember something the people like me their skin a gastly grey and their teeth covered in crimson red. was who i was going to be like, i infected with the disease and their was no cure… ******************************** You He has hours, days if he is lucky. You have the gun behind you and were told to use it when you couldn’t bear it anymore. Your bite isn’t as bad, it is only small but a long and painful road is going to catch up to you at some point. You contemplate whether to use it on him. The plague was spread throughout his body and he nibbles at his own flesh constantly. He doesn't even notice the food sitting in front of him. A pool of ever-growing blood surrounds him and it looks as though he may drown in a red sea. You fall back asleep. ********************************** help. it hurts. i need someone. end my pain. where are my parents. are they coming for me. my sister laughs joyfully and the butterflies cover my vision. their so beautiful. i see my mother. she says they are here for me. i am going home... ********************************* You It’s time.

“I’m sorry Hunter.”

You watched him stare at the barrel of your gun, He knew he should be afraid. But in all the chaos you saw only one emotion coursing through his veins.

Relief.

As you pull the trigger, you pray that someone will be there to do the same when your turn finally comes...

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Another me - Yuki Sugita In the darkness, I was arguing against myself. I’m always polite, so I let him (the other me) go first...

“Did you make the correct choice to quit figure skating?”

He questioned me repeatedly. Nothing was lighting up the darkness. Was it wrong, the fact that I stopped? My mind was full of confusion. My heart was pounding as quick as a bullet.

Two years ago, I was figure skating five nights a week, for five hours a night! I was winning many competitions. But, it wasn’t a challenge, so it was boring. There was nothing to distract me, everything was going well.

However, after I came to Korea, everything changed! New school, new house, new ice rink, new language, new friends, new worries...

“Perhaps, if you had not quit, you would have become a superstar.” He said it ironically, trying to make me more frustrated.

“Be quiet!” I shouted at him. My face crimson with anger; I felt like my head would explode. “Enough! I’ve already made the decision!”

The moment I said it, a dazzling light shone on us. The cold wind started roaring fiercely. I was not able to open my eyes for few seconds; I could not find him when the strange phenomenon was over.

For next few hours, I was just wandering in this grey area. “How can I get out of this place?” A piece of paper landed right in front of me. I picked up. What was on it? A way to get out from this place, hopefully...

“I AM WATCHING YOU!” I couldn’t believe my eyes. I turned round as quickly as a figure skater spinning on the ice. But still, no one was there. I read over and over a million times. However, even after I read it so many times, it still had the same message. My whole body was shivering with fear. Something, something very cold, as cold as ice, tapped my shoulder...

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I turned, no one was there. Something pushed my back gently. I turned back.

Again, no one was there.

Something grasped my arm but this time holding on as strong as a lion grabbing its prey. “Hey!” I angrily shook his hand off my arm.

Can you believe what I saw? I saw “him”. When I saw him last time, I wasn’t afraid of him. But, not this time. I was trembling with fear. Why? He was pointing a black pistol at me and shouting, “You will do as I say. You will go back to skating!”

“If, if you kill me, that will be the same as killing yourself!”

Then I whispered...

“You are me.”

“Please...don’t... please! No! No! NO!” “Brrring-brrring!

An alarm clock was ringing, waiting for me to wake up...

“Where are you?” I screamed. No reply from him. My heart was being dominated by raw emotions: anger, fear, hatred. I had to find him and make him acknowledge that it was impossible to change the past.

“Oh yeah...” I murmured as my dream ended.

My future is in Seoul. Despite wanting to be a figure skater when I was younger, I now have another dream.

But...

I still don’t know the answer to his questions. Did I make the right decision to quit figure skating? Could I have been a superstar?

I’m still in that gray area...

The gray area…

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The Disappearance – Simon Kim What should I do?... Do I tell them… Ha~~ Hello? Is this the police…?

***************************** It was a scorching, hot summer day in Korea back at my house when I first realized this… this thing... was happening in my school. Something about today made me feel that the weather wasn’t the only hot thing that day. I was just scrolling through my Twitter feed when...

Just looking at the image made my stomach twist and turn. I can still remember the chill that went through my body and the heat instantly leaving me.

I quickly snatched my phone and dialed my friend, Matthew. At first the phone said, “The subject is busy so please leave a message at the tone.” The second and third time, the results were the same. Then, he finally picked up. I whispered, “Dude, what happened to you?”

No response came back.

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All I could hear on my phone was a quiet sobbing noise. Then on the phone, I heard loud banging on the door, and immediately all I could hear was the annoying “bee…” noise.

It’s been 3 days since the incident occurred, so I visited my friend - only to discover a note that says, “The house owner is on vacation”. The note was displayed on the cold steel door. I knocked on the door, but no response came through. So I remained back at his house for a couple of hours until my stomach growled. I knew there was a CU nearby so I went for a quick snack.

When I returned, the note was gone and I could hear noises in the house. At first, I thought Matthew was back. So I slowly opened the door. I could still remember the loud, creepy, creaking noise from the door. I quietly sneaked into the house. I saw the tap running so I figured there was someone in the house. I checked the bathrooms and the master bedroom.

Then finally I checked Matthew’s but he and his family were nowhere to be found. I mean it’s not a big surprise since this has occurred multiple times.

It was the next day (also the beginning of the week). My friend screamed, “OH, man it’s getting hot in here.”

Now Matthew, as always, came late to school. This meant an hour of detention after school for him.

“Hey bro, you know if Matthew is coming to school today? You know it’s his birthday today right?”

A random kid in the back of the classroom asked,” Yo guys, is he bringing donuts?”

The teacher came and asked,” Where is Matthew!”

The question was followed by a long lasting silence which made a really awkward atmosphere in the class. After an hour, actually, it might have been two, you know what, the class was so boring I didn’t even know how long it had been. I asked my friend again if he knew when Matthew was coming to school. He said,” Maybe after an hour”. I was thinking,” I mean, at least the A.C. unit will be fixed by then”. I think I’ve been waiting for today since… forever I think. Anyways today is a special day since Matthew is finally turning 13. He promised to bring donuts but, we all have that one typical friend who doesn’t actually keep his commitments.

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After lunch, I started to become anxious because he’d never missed a school day before. I mean he’s been late, but he still made it somehow.

But today he was unusually late.

The sun was setting and Hangang was glowing like a bonfire on a summer night. But while I was enjoying the view with an ice cream in my mouth, I couldn’t help but see the dark figure under the bridge. I could swear on my life that was him. So I forgot about the whole ice cream thing and chased after the mysterious shadow.

As I turned around the corner of the bridge I found the mysterious figure. As I approached “him”, I felt a chill going up against my back. I slowly shone my phone’s flash on him. It was him. I knew it was him. He had a broken nose and an arm. So I sat with him under the bridge having some “bro on bro” talk. I asked him with the typical “Are you okay?” and “What happened to you?”

He said that he was all good but I knew that was a lie now. So I looked at him dead in the eye and asked him, “What is really going on?”.

He extensively whispered me, “DO NOT TELL THIS TO ANYONE!” I got the scary movie goosebumps and the gulp. He explained me the whole story. Without realizing, I started to tremble. I was, so shocked the air around me suddenly got a whole lot colder. My palms started sweating. So after the long, intensive talk, we both walked home.

When we arrived at my house I told him that he could stay at my house if he wanted, but he said, “Thank you for the offer but If I stay here who’s gonna take care of my house? I will have to leave my mom and sister alone with…them” With a sigh, I let him go. I told him he’s welcome anytime but based on what he told me I don’t think I would’ve left my house either. I entered my house, my mother was in the kitchen cooking bulgogi. I could smell the scent from the living room. I looked out the window and saw that dad’s car was rolling into the garage. I heard the loud clanging from the door and the typical “I’m home!”.

My mother called me down for dinner. I usually didn’t eat dinner at 8 o’clock but today was a long day for everyone including my parents.

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The bright light shone through my window and I knew it was time for me to get up. As soon as I got freshen up I ran down to the living room for breakfast. After that, I got on my bike and started to go to school. It was a slow Thursday. I saw Matthew enter the classroom with the “LOOK”, I knew something was up so during the break I went and talked to him. I’ll tell you what It became a lot worse than I thought it would be.

Now let’s stop, I know that all of you are thinking what actually happened to Matthew. Well, the truth is that he told me that he screwed up big time with some of the older guys in the next door school.

So anyway, back to the story. He looked a lot worse than before and so I asked, “Hey, what happened?” He whispered back to me with all the depression he could use in a sentence. He said,” I got the into the new Gundo class right? I kicked this older guy in the face accidently. I went to talk to him after school one day and that's when they got the drop on me. I gave him one piece of advice,” I told yah you should just do other sports.”

But I knew that he really needed to get professional help. And that was something he was just too scared to do.

That night I was deep in thoughts. I knew the risk that would happen if I reported it. But I can’t just watch him getting abused like that. I had to make a choice. I would lose my friend for sure. I grabbed my phone and pressed 1.1.2. All I had to was press “the button” ...

What should I do?... Do I tell them…

Ha~~ Hello? Is this the police…?

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Villainous – Leah Park He seems to be the quintessential villain The desperado protagonist The epitome of a rogue without virtue Who doesn’t understand philanthropy

Burning, aching, pleading, you begged him to stop. You were the subject of his human experimentations, forced into insanity. The perpetrator didn’t stop; waiting for you to succumb to your inner demons. But you held on a little longer, because he is nothing other than your calamity.

Is it really chaos that descends When he walks into the room Or is it counterfeit fear That’s only there Because of an impulsive inclination In fearing the unknown…

You met him on a cold winter’s night, so young, so naive, so exploitable. He offered you a place to stay, a place where you could live until you paid your debts. It seemed too good to be true, but you wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that for the first time, you were lucky enough. You had no idea that it was the calm before the storm.

He told you he was a scientist, and that for you to keep living in his home, he needed you to become his assistant in the lab. Blindly, you agreed, and he made you the subject of all his dastardly experiments, taking away everything that made you human, making you a mutant freak that had physical abnormalities.

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are like deep ocean currents manipulating his emotions with malevolent compulsion Sweeping him away in engulfing despair Maybe he lacks certain qualities That make a hero Maybe he’s a cynic Who’s seen too much Maybe he’s an antihero Living in suppressed agony With the weight of this jagged world Forced on his shoulders

Is he really the utmost villain?

If he’s gone through the most social injustice If he’s inundated with misery and desolation If he’s gone to hell and back For absolutely nothing at all

Can’t you see it?

The words, the sticks and stones wound and torment more than you know They think they’ve gotten him figured out but they’re barely scratching the surface

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At the culmination of your story, you destroyed him, escaped his psychological torture and his human experimentations, and you thought you won. But still, you were a mere shell of who you had been. They called you a freak of nature but they had no idea of what you’ve been through.

If you look past the stone cold exterior disregard the stoic persona He is stricken with grief Haunted by his past threatening to consume him entirely threatening to gatecrash and ambush him threatening to hasten his damnation

He is at a crossroads His longing to be good To be virtuous and virtually impeachable Is dethroned by his self-condemnation

Every villain is a hero in their own story.

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Power - Minjoon Kim U.T. 00 Project M.A.S meets success and the human race settles on Mars. Though the project was a government plan to kick out inconvenient households from Earth to decrease the population, that has been ruined. It was a decision made by the government to support the environment after debating for 12 years - 6512 debates in total. The families were forced to move to Mars.

Though, the fact that they were forced did not clearly reveal itself to the people; they thought they were privileged to move to Mars. . . . .

By U.C. 32, the settlers on Mars finally realise the situation:

Kujo Kun Daizum: “As the leader of Mars, I declare war on the Earth, representing all human races on this planet. They, the filthy Earthlings, have removed us from their planet, just because we were not able to work when we have not even received education due to their discrimination. We, as thoughtful ones, tried to be part of their society, but again we have been discriminated by them. They have kicked us out for what THEY have resulted. We, as victims of their thoughtless actions, cannot live like this. Under the name of me, this Kujo Kun Daizum, we will name our nation the ‘Republic of Enic’-”

Kujo Kun Daizum’s speech was disrupted with a loud ‘Bang’. The earth's spy had considered Kun Daizum’s action as a rebel against the Earth, and fired.

Just as the people were paralyzed by the gunshot, few other Earth spies sprang out of the ground. They mercilessly fired at the crowd, with all sorts of weapons, armed to the teeth. Mars was powerless. People were powerless.

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I... was powerless...

I couldn’t do anything. I ran. I ran, ran, and ran. Earth threw me such “friendly” gifts: bullets!

They pierced my shoulder three times, along with another present - pain. Blood started to burst out of my body. I couldn’t feel my arm at all. The miserable sounds of the gunshots started to fade…

The next time I was able to see my surrounding was after 2 days. I still lay at the exact spot where I passed out for more than 40 hours. My shoulder was in pain, but the bullets were pulled out somehow. The blood stopped from bleeding out by wrapped bandages, and I was able to move my arm relatively freely.

It seemed like someone had helped me, and the food left next to me also supported that thought. The moment I saw the pack of dried bread left for me, I realised the noise my stomach was making the whole time. I instantly grabbed onto the packet and ripped it apart, and devoured it. When my stomach was full, I finally started to realise the situation that I was in.

Dead bodies lay all across the street. Fire and fragments were everywhere, and buildings were falling apart. The screaming and shouting I heard before was gone. It was completely silent, except the sound of materials burning down. The whole area was demolished. Though it is a relief that it was only a small area that was attacked.

Still, I was shocked by the panorama that I had never seen before. It was cruel, harsh, violent and merciless. As I was hesitating about what to do, a piece of paper caught my eyes. On it, it said: All Alive Beings Come to Yith Street 49 avenue. We Will Bring an End to the Earth. We Will Retrieve our land. Our Home. Our Chance.

It seemed like it was looking for soldiers. A thought flashed into my brain. ‘What if I join the armed forces and become one of the most influential soldiers...?’ And now, that’s where my journey began. A journey to retrieve my home. My life.

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The following day, a big step towards our freedom was taken. We, people on Mars, declared Mars as a nation and named it “Republic of Enic”. The name came from Kujo Kun Daizum’s speech. Naming our nation with an unfinished name symbolised that we should not forget what the Earth has done to us. Surprisingly, the day I joined the army was the same day, just that I joined the force in the before dawn, much earlier than the announcement of our nation’s name which happened almost by midnight.

I trained very hard until “The Day”. The day that the war started. It was the 1st of January, U.C. 33. I have not realised that the day we were attacked was Christmas until then. Our general decided that, “since they have given us such misery on a feast, us Enics have decided to do the same.” Apparently Kujo Kun Daizum has been researching about mechas for few decades, which finally his men presented that morning. Though, it was kept a top secret for almost 30 years. 3 Types of Mechas were presented: Batsu, Batsu Long Range type, and Kira. As I know, the factories have created more than 40 mechas in total.

Our brigade, including me, recieved a mission from the general; to attack Earth after each getting onto a machine. We received the message around 2 A.M., and got about 5 hours to learn how to control the mecha. The machines were controlled by all four limbs with a ‘motion reader’, so it wasn't very confusing, but it required much more strength and endurance than I expected.

At 10 A.M. we each set our coordinates to Earth, which we were told would take around 8 hours with the mechas. Once we arrived, Earthlings were watching fireworks because it was a new year. And... who from Mars would stand and watch that?

All of us got emotional, due to the fact that they attacked us on Christmas and they are having a feast on new year. I simply attacked everyone I saw, and that is also exactly what my whole team did. After a few hours, armed forces of earth started to attack back on us. And it didn’t seem like we were the only ones with mechas. They also owned mechas, that certainly was stronger than ours. Though, possibly due to our raging thoughts towards them, we demolished them and none of us were killed or injured.

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be. Mine was red. Just like the blood that Kujo Kun Daizum spilt, that I spilt, and the blood the Earthlings spilt.

That’s when I finally realised that our nation was actually preparing for a war (just as Kujo Kun Daizum said), and we were the trigger. When I realised this, I did feel afraid of the consequences, but felt excited at the same time. I was finally able to get revenge on the people who pretty much made my life even worse.

January 2th, U.C. 33, the Earth also declared war on “Mars”. They still haven’t admitted that we are a republic, and we deserve to be treated as a nation. This, was the start of the oneyear-war(OYW). The war that has gone for exactly one year, from U.C. 33 January 2nd to U.C. 34 January 2nd. What we have basically done for a year is attack, retreat, defend, attack, retreat, and defend, over and over and over.

At the end of the war, the Earth have asked us to ceasefire, and finally admit us as a nation.

They, have taken much more damage compared to us, so they had to stop the war or they would end up meeting the end. We, finally got an equal chance as other Earthlings, though some of them discriminated us. The ones that discriminated against us have all been powerfully controlled by law, which reduced the amount of people who discriminated us.

Now it is U.C. 45. It is much easier to live as one of the Enics now. I have been promoted 3 more times, and I am one of the most influential pilots in the Republic of Enic, just as I wanted. I am still fighting beside my brigade, but now I am leading them. All the wars prove that we are not vulnerable.

Mars isn’t powerless anymore.

People aren’t powerless.

I am not powerless.

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Play or not: by Elliot Prest “That was a big hit! He looks out, he looks out cold!” announced the commentators...

Those words were repeating inside my head for hours. No matter how hard I tried to get them out, I simply couldn’t. This was the sixth time I was lying down on this hospital bed, all for the same reason… concussion.

My head was done. It simply can’t handle me playing American football for any longer. The amount of pain that goes through my head on a daily basis is atrocious; the mood swings I suffer, make me look like a psycho. Football is killing me, but I have to do it. Without football, I have nothing, absolutely nothing. My grades are terrible; I used to be a good student but I can’t remember anything anymore. I can’t even remember the name of my doctor.

Usually, when I wake up from my injuries, I have a few neck pains and a bit of a headache, but today… today was something else. My head was feeling worse than ever before. I had an extreme headache along with dizziness. The worst part was my ears: my ears were ringing abominably.

As my doctors approached, my hearts started to skip a beat. Normally, when he walks into the room he is smiling and full of life but today it was different. I could see depression in his eyes, whatever he was about to tell me, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“Malik, I’m sorry, I’m very sorry… Normally, we can help you with this and you can continue to play with caution, but this time it's serious. It’s very serious.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled and then exclaimed, “You can’t continue to play football anymore, one more concussion and you’re dead. With any athlete I wouldn’t take this risk, but with you, with your track record of concussions. I simply can’t allow you to play. I know about your mom, but please you have to stop playing.”

I sat up and looked into his eyes, tears started to gush down my face like from a tap, I couldn’t help myself. My life was over; without football I was nothing. I couldn’t stop now after everything I have been through. I sniffed, brushed my tears and exclaimed, “I can’t.”

There was a huge silence, I couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore so I headed for the door.

Then out of the blue, I heard a thunderous screech, “MALIK YOU MUST STAY!” I stared at him with an anger I have never felt before. “You have no idea what my mom has done for me, working through her illness to earn money for my football camps. I am playing! I will do anything for her even if it kills me.”

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Afterwards, I stormed straight out of the gloomy room. When I turned my head, my coach bumped right into me, and in the tops of his lungs he screamed, “MALIK YOU ARE GOING NOWHERE!” I immediately backed off, and headed back to the room.

In an instance I was back in my bed, I was more nervous right now than I had been when I had NFL scouts watching me play. My whole body was shaking, for the first time today I didn’t know what was going to happen next.

“Malik, I have texted your mother, I am paying for the procedures to fix your concussions,” exclaimed Coach Tim. I sighed with relief but that was immediately cut off with Coach Tim exclaiming, “however you will not be playing for any longer, you cannot play. It’s been a big honor coaching you, one of my biggest honors—” “I’m not quitting, I don’t care!” I interrupted with aggression.

Nothing was going to stop me from playing.

“Malik you don’t understand, do you?” questioned my doctor, “this game is killing you.”

My doctor then passed me a clipboard of documents about my mental health and how they were connected to my high rate of concussions. “Look at this, you need immediate healthcare and treatment, if not your mental disturbances are going to get worse and worse, and trust me Malik, you don’t want premature dementia. Like I said before, this will happen if you suffer from another concussion. None of this will matter as you will die, and I won’t be able to do anything about that.”

I know he is lying. Dementia! That can’t be real. According to the documents the symptoms are: affects how a person thinks, feels, and behaves. People with dementia may seem like they have lost touch with reality. This has to be fake.

“Are you actually trying to stop me from playing by making up some made up mental disorder?

I blustered.

“And there we go, I told you about your problem with dementia, and you have already forgotten about it. Your memory is terrible, one of the worst I have seen. How are you going to play football if you can’t even remember things that happened a week ago? How are you going to memorize the plays in the offence? Isn’t there something like 60 plays in an average offence?

Tell me Malik. How are you going to do it?”

I responded with a laugh, “I knew it, this mental disorder was all made up to scare me. I am finishing this season. Plays don’t matter, there are only 2 more games left in the season, and I am going to play them both, to show scouts I am fine and that my concussions are nothing serious. After I get drafted, I'll receive my paycheck and then I will retire. And after that you can 64 | P a g e

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do all this medication stuff. You see, if I do this I can provide money for my family. I have a low risk of suffering from another concussion and you can fix my health.”

My coach looked like he agreed with the plan, I could see in his eyes that he believed in it.

However, with my doctor it was the complete opposite; he looked furious as his mouth opened I knew it was going to be a long rant.

“Perfect plan Malik,” voiced my doctor. I was extremely confused, yet happy. Something did seem off. He looked so angry before and now he was all happy. He had to be joking.

“Really?” I questioned.

“Ohh yeah perfect plan Malik,” responded my doctor “APART FROM THE PART WHERE YOU HAVE DEMENTIA. Malik this is real, not made up. People with this disorder are some of the craziest people I have seen; they lose every form of life when having this disease. You cannot play, I’ll be honest, I doubt you will get another concussion in two days but what if you do? You are dead!” roared my doctor.

I couldn’t be bothered to talk about this for another hour, so I strolled right out of the room and continued to walk out of the hospital. I then stumbled into my mom. She looked at me with fear. I could tell she was scared.

“How did it go?” she asked, “are you going to play?”

“Yeah I’ll be fine, my doctor said I shouldn’t worry about it and that I can continue to play…” I responded happily.

I didn’t tell her about what the doctor had told my coach as I was storming out: “I can’t talk him out of this but you have full control. Another concussion will kill him. You mustn’t play him.”

“And benching him will kill him faster…I’m sorry, I have to...”

It was now up to me whether I was going to play or not.

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Strange Brew – Gian Jung For the first 53 years of my life, I got anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. There was always more money, I could ride a spacecraft to the moon for a tour again and again until the world runs out of fuel to supply the spacecraft. Now with all my money and power, I have made homes for the homeless and the suffering.

But I wasn’t satisfied.

It was all 26 years ago when I decided to start this.

“Mother, I decided to start a non-profit organisation for helping the poor.”

“Hah! No way~ Séorh,” Mother spoke in a stern voice whilst smoking her 9th cigar for the day.

“You know mother, most people aren’t as lucky as us.”

“Our family had to work for all this Séorh,” sighed mother, stroking the pure white gold teapot (that we never used).

“Yes, I perfectly know that, mother, so let's help out the unfortunate!”

“It is not our fault that they are that way Séorh!” mother roared, her wrinkles seemed to emphasise her anger. “So why should we help them? If you want to-this so called HELPso much, then, you--you,” Mother stammered,“Filthy DOG! Don't belong in my family.”

That night I took off like a bird avoiding a cat, taking all my money.

Now, helping others doesn’t get me excited anymore like it used to. I feel like I’ve done enough helping in my life. It is time that others should bring their attention to this problem too. After all, I was human, done good deeds for around 2 decades and now I decided that I’ve had enough.

Tonight was the final night of this sinkhole.

I abandoned the organisation...

I spent the first 3 weeks traveling the world, then I ended up in Suzhou, China. A magical but at the same time a beautiful place filled with nature and cultural experiences. There were beautiful pure-green mountains everywhere also mysteriously large rich-blue lakes beside the mountains. The chilly humid conditions and the moist native scent that I woke up to every morning - I loved it. I planned on staying here for about a year, to learn about other cultures as well as to entirely absorb the nature surrounding me.

At last, I felt peaceful as I was away from my problems.

“Do you know da way?” a voice whispered.

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“Who was that?”

The streets felt strangely dim and misty.

“You want to know?”

“Know what?” I asked now, a little bit unsettled.

“The way, my brother.”

I felt isolated, and disconnected from the world.

A chill crawled down my spine.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping I would feel better.

Thump!

“Mmmmfffffff!” “Help!”

A kidnaping, I thought, I kicked for help but it was quiet. I felt a wet slime like substance on my leg, then I couldn’t control my body… ********************************************************************************** “Huh?” I spat the disgusting old cloth out of my mouth and I questioned ‘where am I?’. As my eyes adjusted to the damp, dominating, dark; I realized my surroundings were a forgotten grey cell within a dungeon. The air tasted like blood and there were no windows and I was tied to a hard unsmoothed wooden chair with a frosty metal chain that made my skin bleed as it tightened me.

“Hello?” I asked with an anxious trembling voice.

“I see my brotha, the locals never told you about the D-day that comes and goes every 3 years,” an unknown voice informed.

“Where are you? Who are you? What’s D-day?”

“Look down.”

“Oh my god,” I breathed, there was a figure that barely reached my knee the mysterious creatures body didn’t have many details. The creature was made out of pixels and the colors red, peach, engulfed its body and blank black circles planted as eyes... I assumed.

“What are you?” I asked in terrified curiosity.

“We are here to serve the devil, minions of the devil. D-day is when every 3 years, we kidnap as many adults as we can turn them into one of us.”

“Oh ————…” “Ω≈ç√∫µå©ß∆œ†¨∑†´¨œ¶¡§™ªº–!`~~~≠你…¬¬∆∆,” The creature made sounds that pierced my ear. My human ear interpreted the sound like human clucking, but I was sure that it was some form of communication. It started a fire, on top of the flashing light, there was a pot as big as my head. The steam pouring out smelled like the mixture been there for centuries, I seemed as if people took their last breath in there… or something worse.

“What are you doing?”

“This es da mixture, this will turn you into one of eus.”

“I will never drink from that, you fat dog!”

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“Ah sir~ stupid* that’s where you are wrong.” The creature commented mischievously.

“You will not drink; you will bathe in it mister.”

“What?” I was shocked, I wished this was a dream but I could not break the bonds that were holding me.

Finally, more of the its kind came and grabbed tight on to my arms and legs. The filthy dogs slowly dragged me to the pot. My body is paralysed from the waist down, I couldn’t resist. I was being carried up to the brim of the pot, inches away from… death? I didn’t even know what will happen to my mortal body.

Was this God punishing me for abandoning my duty to help the poor? Because leaving this life dedicated to service made me a hypocrite? But, but… I’m pretty sure these creatures serve the devil…

My anticipation is muddled up like a supernova; complex, cluttered, chaotic.

I ought to allow this to happen to myself. ********************************************************************************** I was blindfolded when I gathered my senses again.

“What is this?” I asked.

I realized my voice had changed; I had an addicting accent that my voice refused to disown. At the same time, I came to notice my new form.

“My body… my…” I felt like I didn’t have the right to call it ‘my’ body. I was manipulated into becoming one of them.

And it felt good.

It felt so good to be bad.

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Does fate control you? – Benjamin Shim It remained there. Inside me. The gray area…

It all started with a blaring alarm falling on my face, making me look like I had spent hours working at the gym, uber-scarlet and cringing. I groaned and breathed in the crisp autumn breeze. I stood up and squinted at the brightly lit light on the ceiling. That was strange, because I could swear I turned the light off before I went to sleep…

I winced as a splinter on the floor punctured briefly through my foot. I bent down to pull the splinter out. As I did so, I stared through a hole on the floor. Curiosity taking over caution, I stared through the puncture. I saw a devastating state of a room. I gawped. I fell back, crashing on to the wall yet feeling no pain. What had happened? Where were my parents? What had happened? What was happening?

Obviously fate was trying to mess with my sanity; at that moment, the light turned off.

Everything was dark. Gray, gray as the misty storms and tornadoes. I gasped in silent panic.

Everything around me was alien. Icicles of fear were sinking into me, sharp and cold. I staggered across a room that I thought was a free, safe zone, until yesterday. I inhaled deeply. Slowly and cautiously, I creaked open the door. I screamed as I fell 13 stories deep, straight on hardwood.

I screamed as air whistled in my ears.

Something bleeped.

Everything flickers.

I lit up. I know that sounds weird, but I literally lit up, like an LED light flickering in my eyeball.

My head felt like someone rubbed it with granite and stuffed it with lead. I dropped to the floor, unable to do anything with full attention, eyes open but unable to move at all. All I could feel was the cold marble floor. Then I saw two stunningly shiny leather shoes. They were so polished that they could actually reflect light coming to them. I gaped in panic as the boots 69 | P a g e

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came closer and closer to my face. I internally screamed and closed my eyes. Suddenly, I heard the shoes right where I was, above my ears.

I screamed.

When I opened my eyes, the world was dying. I could see everyone screaming, running around and crying as meteorites fell into nearby buildings. It felt like it was all my fault. It was like a painful memory coming back, like a root that I’ve planted that killed everyone. And it was a feeling I had never felt before. A pang of guilt was digging into me, devouring my soul slowly.

This wasn’t a feeling. It was reality.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shred all emotions, wanted to cool the white-hot burning volcano of emotion that was burning my heart. I felt as if I was alone.

Cold, but burning laughter sank into my body. Then everything flashed back, in front of my eyes.

“Impressive….” a strange man in black muttered to himself. He ticked something off a clipboard, and motioned to a very aggressive-looking guard near a whirring machine. The guard came and grabbed me by the shoulder. I winced.

I heard the man in black walk away. I could hear his shoes clanking on some metal. Then it stopped. He stepped back inside.

“Could your last name possible be Blackwood?” he blubbered while setting his black sunglasses back at the right position.

“Yes,” I muttered, “I am Uriah Blackwood. How di..”

“Ah. That explains a lot.” He abruptly turned and I could hear his shoes beating on the metal as he ran off. I stared into blank space dumbfounded as the guard pushed me to a room. What was happening?

I scrunched on the bed in the room. The place was what I would’ve thought a real life horror game would look like. Black and white pictures dotted around the walls of the room, and everything was black and white, as if things had frozen in time. One of the particularly chilling 70 | P a g e

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pictures was a picture of a plague doctor leaning on a cane, motionless, emotionless and the special mask creating a vivid aura.

An aura of death.

Maybe it was the room. Maybe it was the furniture. Maybe it was just my tired body. I don’t know. It was like time had stopped. Actually, more ‘disappeared’ than stopped. Time meant nothing. No one was coming for me, and nothing was happening. Maybe no one even cared.

Either way, I was alone. And it was the fact that I was alone that made the pain so severe, the way it devoured me slowly.

I stood up. Whatever these people were doing to me, I would not yield. I slowly walked around the room, pushing my brain to the limits to try remember anything that had happened to me before. For some reason whatsoever I couldn’t think. My brain didn’t work at all. I felt like the first time I had started to talk. It was like my brain was talking to me, but in blubber. The dark background really wasn’t helping the process. No matter what I tried, no matter how hard I tried I failed. And all this stuff around me was depressing and aggravating. Time had disappeared. Or so I thought.

I woke up to a startling start of the day. An incredibly pale man wearing tie-dye shorts and a matching hippie t-shirt looked down at me.

“Hi!” he spat in front of my eyes.

I took a pause to take in all the stuff that had happened from the day before and glanced at the Hippie-Man. “Who are you…? Who am I…? Where is this…? What is happe…”

“Let’s take it one at a time dear. First of all, I am Time.”

“Hang on a moment, your name is Time?” I squinted, wondering if my brain had finally actually turned to mush due to the strange events that were happening to me.

“No dear, I am the actual, the one and only, Time.”

“But that’s not possible…” I muttered, “Time isn’t a person…”

“Oh but I’m not a person dear child. I’m Time.”

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“Time is a serious thing. Time isn’t a hippie-man chewing pink bubble gum with earbuds.”

“But dear, haven’t you ever thought of how easy-going and smooth Time is? It never stops, never gets lost, a bit like hippie spirit, really.”

“Yeah yeah, tell me more about it.”

“Oh but boy, I am Time. I guess you’ll need an explanation, a bit about this place now.”

“Well yeah, that would help, thank you very much.”

“I’m not exactly the explaining type...but I do know someone who is...One second my dear!”

He began to pull out his pink blackberry and started to text someone, while chewing on his shockingly pink bubble gum.

“Alrighty, I called some of my friends…” he snickered, “I hope you don’t mind!!”

I gaped in awe as 4 absurd figures entered my room.

“Heyo my dude!” an incredibly bright (Literally, glowing) man hollered.

And that’s how I met Life (glowing man), Death (a gargantuan man that kind of looked like an overgrown gorilla in a suit), Love (Time pretended to make a vomiting gesture, which I quite agreed on), and Hate (strangely enough, Hate looked like a really regular, really handsome teenager just somewhat paler than the others.)”

“So are you telling me that all the factors in a human’s life are controlled by you lot?”

Time nodded like an excited kid whose parent said that he was going to Disneyland.

“Ok is this a mental hospital?”

Time slumped his head like a kid whose parent said that he was going to Disneyland and drove him to the Dentist’s.

“No kid. We’re...telling the truth… and we’re not crazy” The other 4 nodded in agreement.

Life stepped up.

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“You see, there’s a problem going on in our world, that’s affecting your world. You see, we’re usually a group of 6. Notice there’s only 5 of us? Our other friend...our friend...”

Life’s mouth quivered like the information was an overly sensitive part of his life that was causing pain to him.

“Our friend, Hope, is dying. Literally. And all this is because nobody is immune to fate. You see, you’re the last of the Faters.”

Something caused me to double over. My brain was literally hurting, like something had opened inside. Something that was hidden in my brain was emerging.

“Hey! Hey kid! Are you okay?” Life shook my shoulders in shock.

“Something hurts inside my brain.”

“A memory collapse.” Life sighed in relief, “something due to our tests we took yesterday.”

“Oh ok, a hurting brain, completely normal. Alrighty” I sarcastically shook my arm, trying my best to not scream.

“You see, hope is dying, because...because humans are losing hope. We exist because humans have us. Humans keep us alive by having us. But humans are losing Hope. And they’re losing Hope, because Fate is taking over the lives of people.”

“But what’s a Fater?”

“A person who can fight back the urge of fate.”

“And what makes you think I am one of those ‘faters’?”

I try to say this as sarcastically as I can, because they’re obviously frauds. I wonder what has taken me to this place to be treated like a rag doll.

“Dude. You survived the test. That, for one, proves you’re worthy for the task. The test was to see if you could resist the urge of fate, as if you were destined to do the bad acts it shows in the test.”

I tried to shrug off the thought that I was about to save the world. It was like a fairytale, as if…as if I was the center of everything around here. But that couldn’t be. I was always the outsider, never in the center, being excluded every time I tried to join anything.

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Yet here I was, supposedly the last hero that could save the world. And what shook me the most was myself. Myself, hoping that I might actually be what they thought I was.

Maybe I could bring Hope alive again...

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'Happiest Person' – Jeongin Park “Yeah you can do this!’

“You’re the best person I know; let’s go!”

My hot breath fogged up the mirror glass. I looked at myself one last time, and saw the skies’ delicate shade of baby blue camouflaged against me. I grabbed my clutch, diary and opened the doors to my fate.

It was a warm, lush day in April, the clocks struck fourteen. Somewhere a bird was chirping, but the expansive light which blanketed the park didn’t allow you to pin exactly where. Petaled buds of flowers blended with flush green leaves and the life of spring.

Today is my high school reunion. I am meeting my childhood friends and classmates, but first and foremost- my high school bully. ********************************* dear diary,

it’s sophie, the voice was sophie’s.

I knew because this wasn’t the first time this happened. I took my books from my locker and walked away to my new class like I didn’t hear anything.

like it didn’t affect me.

Recently I moved from korea, my home country, to the U.K. I hate moving.

I have moved a lot before, to downstairs, upstairs. or different housing unit, apartments, town, city, country and even continent. The core feeling is the same, no matter where or how far you move: you are moving to a new home. some people think ‘home” is just a dwelling place. but to me “home” is the most important place. My home is a place for me; it is my place.

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So I obviously hated the idea of moving here, but it was because of my dad’s job so I had no choice. But then people around me, in korea, thought very highly of europe. they were so envious. I didn’t know why. But as I heard more about the U.K from them I slowly thought it would be okay. I started having an illusion that I would easily fit in and adjust to this ‘diverse and wonderful’ lifestyle.

I really should have gone with my first thoughts. Not that it would change anything right now.

But so I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes down.

It’s called stereotypes and racism and double standards. Those things are the things that block ‘different’ people, here.

People don’t like different people and they assume we are something because of our differences.

Sophie’s words affect me. I told my mum about her. It was really hard, but I did. I told her about the teasing and wounding words. She said to ignore her.

“Mina, just ignore her. She’ll get tired of it.”

She isn’t getting tired of it. The teasing is getting worse. I can’t wait to go back home.

I don’t want to go to home, I want to go back to Korea.

Sincerely, Mina Park.

08/03/2008 ************************************ The tiny space between my over-creamed pale hands and flimsy old diary condenses, and my knuckles turn pale from the force of my clenched fist. My eyelids rest as I inhale, trying to breathe in the peace of spring around me, only to result in a shaky, forced exhale.

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There’s an old metaphor, saying that we are invisible to others. Writers use this technique to show no one understands them.

But I didn’t feel that way.

You’re on a huge airplane, it holds 400 passengers and 21 attendants. You’re up in the skies, isolated from the cruel actuality on land, even if it is only a few hours. You like it for a while.

But everyone is asleep.

There are countless people near, but they’re dead to the world.

**************************************** “So... Mina! How are you doing?”

Sophie looks at me with the fake tender look.

“Y-yeah, I’m grea-” “No, but like, how are you really doing.”

She leans towards me in her seat. Her piercing eyes are a stuck memory in my head.

“Er…” Silence fills the room. The only sound is the anticipated slurps of wine from the curious and innocent eyes that fall on me.

“I’m...um…”

Oh no, I can’t back out now.

“I’m just taking some time to work on me… you know?”

Sophie leans back on her seat, as if satisfied.

“I’m just trying to find something perfect for me, and my lifestyle.” I desperately stutter.

Sad, reassuring looks are returned to my depressing statement.

I mentally face palm.

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“Oh no, they must be thinking you’re a single saddo, who has a dead-end job.” my brain whispers to me.

I instantly regret and scold my brain.

“Or, they think you resigned and started taking watercolour classes to find a speck happi-” I slap myself. And I realised that I actually slapped myself.

“Well, now they think you’re a psycho.” my head compliments.

I close my eyes, in hope that the awkwardness swallows me up.

Things are not going as I planned, at all. I was looking forward to this day, as an athlete to a game. Preparing, practicing, pampering. I wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine; show her that I am strong and happy. But I couldn’t. I can’t.

I say quick goodbyes, and run off for an “important event”. I desperately run out the restaurant, like a fish swimming from a bear, down a dark, rusty staircase that leads to who-knows-where. I see from the corner of my eye an (unpleasant shade of) gray-ish green door with brown crusty splatters around the edges. My hand goes on the knob of the door, but it doesn’t open. I bite my lip in frustration; things are really not going well today. I turn round, and continue to walk down the seemingly endless stairs, until my heels are stabbing my ankles and foot.

I sit down on the dusty stair, and take my heels off. I exhale, and stare into the endless dark below me through the holes of the stairs.

“Clink clank,” the echo says.

I ignore it. I lean my head back, forgetting about the distraction from complaining and thinking about how horrible my life is.

“So, how is she?” a voice says.

Could it be? I close my eyes, so tight that the skin around my wrinkle began to pale with blood loss, to block out a sense to hear better.

Sophie.

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“Yes, I’m aware of the debt…no! She is staying in the hospital room, no matter what!..okay...II’ll pay the debts by friday…”

“Okay, thank you so much,” her voice is choked up, barely hanging on. “Er, yeah...”

She inhales deeply and says too enthusiastically, “Yeah!..Okay! By-”

Silence.

She sighs, and starts to cry.

The type that starts off with a sigh, to a laugh, to a forced coughing, to a flow of tears. This type, usually has breaks of holding your breath- which only leads to more crying, and panting for oxygen. This special mental breakdown ends with speech and/or song to yourself, which in this case was: “Aaaaaah…I’m not okay” she laughs.

A few tissues and makeup fixes later she opens the door to the bathroom, and goes upstairs.

I wanted to sort out my thoughts in this emotional and enlightening situation, but I didn’t feel anything. I was too sad, to feel any emotion but sadness. I wish I could talk to someone who has my abnormal mindset.

My diary.

I open it to a random page (although it had a higher probability of being opened at that page, thanks to the dried dents created in the page from the artificial-juice-box) and I read it. ************************************ Dear Diary,

Sophie is still mean, but I’m getting tired of it. A bit like how I’m writing to you every day. I used to feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells and keyed up, but I’m fine now.

A few days back, the whole class was invited to Sophie’s ‘fabulous’ birthday party.

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all my friends were going, but I mean...I couldn’t really go. Sophie practically hates my guts (and vice versa).

‘hate’ by mina park 1.5.08

hate is a bittersweet disease of the soul, a cold ice on the heart. twisting the joy of one’s feelings, a prepossessing riddle of detest and despair hate is a blindfold put on by mortals who fear to love

(wow, I should be a poet)

after contemplating for centuries past, I decided to go. I was not going to be left out, and I deserve everything.

- UPDATEI had a blast! I’m so happy I made this decision.

** note to self: join in, even at the hardest times. ********************************** “Hey guys! My event was canceled; can I join you guys?”

“Oh,” a friend awkwardly replies “we are just about to go.”

“Oh.” Did I make the wrong decision to come back?

“Well, who’s paying?” I desperately stutter.

“We decided that the happiest person would pay, and that’s Sophie!”

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Cheers of joy and thanks from everyone in the room, but I’m only looking at one person.

Sophie keeps a bright and dazzling ‘Sophie’ smile, but I see something else.

Her eyes can’t obliterate the wounds in her heart and bruises on her soul. Behind her happiest smile is a thousand feelings, and everything I can’t and won’t understand; but at this moment, l know what to do.

She twitches at my heartfelt stare, and awkwardly walks over to the counter to pay.

“Total of £479 madam.”

She opens her mouth, to result in an inaudible shock. She fidgets, and uncomfortably looks around her surroundings as if committing a crime, before taking out her wallet. As if the card is stuck to the wallet she takes out at a snail’s pace, with trembling and reluctant finger tips. The confused and annoyed worker took the card, into the card machin“This card, please.”

The worker at Sophie for a sign of rejection of the sacrifice, before shooting puzzled looks at me. His face turns from confusion to unconcerned, and he continues to take my card.

I try not to look at Sophie’s startled expression.

“Would you like your receipt, madam?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Okay, thank you for coming! Have a lovely night.”

He opens the door for both of us; nature greeting us with the cold, crisp, clear breeze.

There is an awkward silence all around, between me, Sophie and the thick atmosphere wrapping us up, that is waiting to be broken.

“Congratulations. Sophie murmurs sadly.

“Huh?” “I guess you’re the happiest person.”

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The Friendship Dilemma – Sam Sung “Why can’t they get on with each other?” muttered Sam to himself. “Mike and Tom make me mad!”

Sam is lying in bed thinking about his two best friends. He likes both of them but they don’t like each other.

Sam and Mike play soccer every lunch time. They also train after school as they are in the FOBISIA football team. Whenever they spend time together, they talk about soccer! Sam supports Manchester City and Mike supports Manchester United. They love discussing which team has the better players!

Tom hates sport! He avoids the soccer field and avoids even watching sport on television. His favourite hobby is computer games. He and Sam play online games such as “Overwatch”. This game is kind of an FPS (Frames Per Second) game - a simple shooting game that is so much fun!

Sam plays computer games every weekend with Tom.

On Monday morning, Sam was rushing to the front door to go to the school. “Did you decide how many friends are coming to your birthday party?” Mom asked behind Sam. “Not yet!” He ran out of the house.

There they were. Sam saw Mike and Tom waiting for him at the bus stop. Awkwardly, they were standing at a distance from each other. Sam tried to break the ice by saying “Hey guys! I'm going to have a birthday party this Friday evening. Can you two come over?”

Silence!

“What time?” they both broke the silence at the same time.

“After school, why don’t we go together?” Sam smiled.

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“Sure!” both answered. Sam thought that was weird that they replied simultaneously. He wished both could get long like that.

On Friday afternoon, after the last class was over, Sam was the first one to zoom out of the classroom in order to see his friends. At the bus stop, Mike and some other friends were waiting for him but not Tom.

“Where is Tom?” Sam asked.

Simon answered, “Oh Tom just asked me to tell you that he was sorry he couldn’t make it because he forgot he had to attend the school music lesson.”

Sam tried to shake off his disappointment on the way home.

All of sudden, Jack’s high pitched voice woke him up from his deep thoughts about Tom.

“Isn’t that Tom walking along with some high school girls? Isn’t he supposed to be at school by now for the lesson with Mrs Hong?”

That started to disturb my thoughts.

The party was great with a lot of giggles but Sam’s disappointment didn’t go away over the whole weekend.

Sunday morning, at breakfast table, mum worriedly looked at Sam, “Are you alright? You have been so quiet since last night. What is bothering you?”

Sam was not really in the mood to talk about it and he hated when mom always sensed something wrong with him and when she was so correct!

“Tom sort of ditched my birthday invitation at the last minute and he didn’t tell me in person.

Not only that, I got the impression that he just cancelled it because he didn’t want to talk with Mike.”

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“Oh don’t worry about that, you guys are young. Tom will grow up, then he will know what he should do. Maybe it’s not your business to worry about whether they get along.”

On Monday morning, Sam went to school as normal. He saw Mike at the bus stop and he smiled, “Hey Mike!”

He had decided to listen to his mom.

THE END

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Every moment of the day... Sooa Lee “Who am I?” The words repeated continuously over and over again as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

The sweat of frustration slowly crawled down my face as the warm tears from my eyes joined it. It’s true, I never really knew where I really belonged. I thought going this way was better than the other, but I was wrong. The truth is, money can’t do anything. My mind was going out of control from all of these confusing questions that I couldn’t even answer. I didn’t want to pick any sides, however, it wasn’t my choice…

I was terrified.

“Mommy, why can’t you just be over with that betrayer? Why do you try to hide it? Can I beg for you to divorce him?” they would say to me…

Therefore, I did what they’ve asked and it’s been going on until forever. You see, it’s not as easy as it seems. Things cost money. Money we don’t have. Money that HE has. And what about the neighbours? They already gossip about us…

Constantly, I keep on changing my mind.

All I could say was, “I need more time,” as my head immediately faced the ground, my words stumbled over the stairs.

As they handed me the envelope, my hands quivered automatically and the envelope accidentally fell on the ground as lightly as a feather. My hands drew to the floor picking the nightmare up with my bare hands. I gave the lawyer a “sure” kind of look but I felt the kind of feeling that I had a more comfortable/ unpleasant figure on my face.

As I walked home with misery, I had my hand in my pocket with my vibrating phone that I didn’t want to answer. I dragged my feet as I strolled across the dusty sidewalk, alone. While happy, but still sad memories started to pop out of my mind in a sudden, everything I saw started to blur out. Water droplets started to appear on my sweaty palm, my throat was blocked from anger, and my mind was messed up like me.

When I arrived at the plain, old apartment that I call home, I saw that nothing had changed from the last ten years. I stepped in the elevator rushing to wipe my tears and to practice on my happy smile, so it would look like I hadn’t had any bad news from the court. I don’t think any parent would want to see their kids with worried faces all day asking what the people said in the court. I didn’t want to tell them the bad news so I kept it quiet and brushed out my formal, damp shirt. I sniffed quietly because I was almost on my floor and they would probably be waiting for me in front of the elevator.

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What was this feeling?

My smile suddenly faded away like a leaf falling from a tree. I could see myself from the polished, reflective buttons. I felt small, guilty, greedy and I didn’t know what to do. I had only had horrible…

DING! “Mommy!” Kaleb, Kaylee, and Kayla all shouted together as my smile automatically appeared looking at their smiles but with the worried facial expressions too. As rubbed my hands together, I could still feel my warm tears so I hurried and wiped it on my jeans so they wouldn’t notice. As soon as I dropped my bag beside my piano, I immediately dropped on top of my bed with the biggest “sigh” you would ever hear. I decided to take out my guitar and sing a song because that’s what I normally do when I feel blue.

A few minutes later just lying on the bed, I started to sing out the first song that came up in my mind: “I know you’ve been hurt by the way that he talks to you, hurt by the way that he fights with you no, no, hurt, by the way, that…”

I stopped for a moment and choked once again. The lyrics made my tongue twist and tangle so I just slid my guitar in its case because I felt like I was going to cry pathetically again, if just one more word came out of my mouth. Not moving a single muscle, I tried pinching my arm (that felt like a stick) to wake myself up and to stop the flood of moisture on my bed and the whimpering. I found the pinching useless because my heart was more painful than suffocating my arm.

For the last thirty minutes lying on my bed with my head facing the ceiling, I couldn’t stop the sweat coming out of my eyes; it was like a waterfall. I’ve never had this much of a sorrow in my life. I think that this was the time where I finally realized and understood my mom’s comment.

When I was around my first daughter’s age which was when I was thirteen, my poor mom told me to meet the right guy and to live a happy life. I know now...

As soon as I woke up, Kayla unexpectedly walked in my door without any hesitation. In shock, I immediately rose up from my comfortable position and sat into a very polite posture I haven’t done in years! Suddenly, I saw her swollen eyes staring back at mine really harshly so I obviously asked, “What’s the matter? Did you have a nightmare?”

I took it seriously after that and told her to sit down beside me on the bed and talk about what the matter was. She slowly crept up to me and sat down carefully and gently saying, “I dreamt of him, he.. he...”

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Her voice quivered like an earthquake as I felt the vibrating bed beneath me. I knew what she dreamt of and knew what happened so I didn’t say a word and just patted her back and tucked her under my arms to comfort her. Then, everything went silent. As she shrunk into the tiniest ball ever, I decided to join her and so that was what I did. We were still like a statue for a while until the younger ones awoke from their world. That was when my free time was over.

It was another normal day after that silence and I obviously went ahead to the kitchen area and made breakfast for the little ones. As I realized it was Saturday, I suddenly didn’t want to do anything today and just sit around the couch watching drama all day long. As my eyes suddenly caught another and we both sat in silence. It felt really embarrassing because of what happened in the morning. To crack this awkwardness, I looked back at the TV and asked, “does anyone want to watch a new movie?”

She slowly turned her head the other way and joined her siblings as they all agreed, “YA!” It was a hard time picking what film we wanted to watch since there aren’t a lot of kids’ movies that we haven’t watched. A few minutes later, our movie finished so it was time for us to pick our lunch. Time goes by so fast when we watch a family movie!

Moments later, all of us decided to go outside to the Han River to go on a short walk since staying inside was torture. All of them except me were riding bikes as I looked after the little ones. As I slowly tried to pull my earphones out of my small, right, pocket beside me, I froze with my tight eyes meeting the back of someone. My heart thumped hard with my drooling sweat sliding down my forehead. My hands shook as my breathing became faster and faster each movement I took. I gave a quick and big sign to them to come over but it was too late…

He had come back.

He caught the eyes an innocent, little four- year-old kid. She froze for a second and then the explosion happened. No one can ever make her so upset than meeting that intolerant, boorish, cantankerous, arrogant, cynical eyes. Just the eyes can make a person go crazy! The worst temper tantrum that can ever be heard was just heard by a few people.

From his daughter.

I quickly ran towards her and carried her away from him. I didn’t even want to share ONE word with that black, cold hearted creature. Kayla and Kaleb also ran and followed behind me as they brought their bikes along with them. I could see his fake face further and further away from us.

He had no emotion in him, just like always. I could feel everyone staring at us awkwardly. My ears started getting red in a second so I rushed in the car like a lightning bolt.

Not a single muscle moved after that.

“Mommy…”

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I knew that everyone in the car was as traumatized as I was. It stung. It stung hard, as I tried to keep the tears in, as I gulped carefully once every three seconds to hold everything together. I knew the kids in the car was looking straight into my red eyes. I really didn’t want to show them me crying because it would break their hearts. The youngest one was still choking on her own words and every breath she took contained the double or even triple breaths in and one really long sigh out.

I tried to think positively, “Every story end with a happy ending, every story ends with…”

When we arrived at the gloomy apartment again, I tried to wake myself up and stop tried not to choke every two seconds. My life was a disaster… I wasn’t allowed to contact any friends and that made all of these emotions get even worse and worse. Did this have to get so complicated? The more I thought of him, the more frustrating I became. I pray every night before I go to bed but sometimes… the next day turns out worse than the other. I pray for a really great day the next day but it suddenly ends up being one of my worst days I’ve had in my life.

What could this be?

Hoping that my lawyer will bring me any great news, I called her to tell her something that I’ve never wanted in my life. I pressed the call button and the only thing I heard was…

‘Doot, Doot, Doot…’

I pressed the green button for about five times but she didn’t answer any of the calls. After a little while later, I gave up and just locked myself in the bathroom and listened to some music as the sweat from my eyes drooled down as slowly like a caterpillar emerging throughout its little egg shell. This would be what I normally do when I feel like I want to end everything. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the old me when I lived with the ‘freak’. Everything was a mess at that point and I looked at the life now and I found a huge difference between then and before.

I slowly opened my eyes facing the ceiling where the light shone upon my face and decided to start living again. I glared at the time for a while until I got a phone call. The unknown phone number appeared in front of my face that looked very familiar from the other numbers I had in my life. I answered it and there, the voice came out of the speaker like that.

“Hello?” I questioned.

“Hi… I saw the children,” From there, everything froze into silence and it just felt as if I was in slow motion.

“Who is this.”

“Your divorced husband.”

Divorced? I thought for a while. We didn’t divorce yet, we are divorcing.

“This is my last call with you. I don’t care about the kids anymore and I found a new girl of mine.

I told in the court already. Tomorrow will be our last time meeting as well.”

And he hung up.

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My heart thumped fast.

My frown changed into a grin, my tears swept away from the happy cheeks and t=my teeth shone in years. I was never this happy in my life before. Was this a dream? Could it really be?

Was this the end? I couldn’t believe what just happened because it had been a year now. I would never forget this amazing and unforgettable day. I don’t have to choose; I don’t have to be the one to close the door…

He’s done it for me.

“I’d better go and tell the kids this exciting news!”

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The Last Beat – Jakob Stehle It was beaming in my eyes.

The truth of fearing the past, I dared myself to forget at this very time.

My first step: my heart was pounding like there was nothing to live for!

Sweat was dripping down my pale skin. I am traveling through time where upside down is darkness.

Why? Just looking at him makes me growl up with fury…. He is the one, the one that filled an empire with stupidity and careless minds. He was guarded by fearless men, who had no sign of facial expression after all. ********************************* My chief showed me the picture.

“It can’t be. He’s dead!” I exclaimed, “Apparently not!” our chief fired back.

“Your mission is located in Riga, Latvia! Find Evidence or better, bring him in,” our chief furiously commanded me. ********************************************** And that it why I am here. From Riga, the recruits were taken to a secret training location where we would learn to serve him.

It was hard to not be seen since I was clothed in a dazzling orange shirt with the big chrome letters saying “Never fear”. Ironically I was quite the opposite of what this filthy shirt said since my sweat was pumping down my hair to the tip of my toe. I was covered in the truth and was radiated by the past that covered my confidence.

The one! It was him! The truth: it was beaming in my eyes.

He was passing the blood-curdling soldiers, through the broad wall.

“Today is the day my servicemen”! It sounded like him.

That powerful voice was able to control all these folk, able to make me and the world shiver in fear. That confident voice was able to make even the best lawyer fail. It was powerfully loud like he could outshine a lion; he was able to scream over thousands of people. He was the one.

My innermost thoughts appeared filling me up to the limit with indignation, telling me it was all just a dream…

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But dreams don’t make you realize what you are actually there for.

As I noticed the furious leader’s movements, darkness had arisen over my whole body.

“Heil Master!”

Their arms have lifted, straight hands showing into the foggy sky, their sweat dripping down, their shirts getting all wet, filled with terror as they spill my biggest fear.

As I trudged along the fence, the truth started to travel through my brain.

He was supposed to be dead.

But nobody has ever really known how he died. They know he committed suicide, they don’t know where, they don’t know when. It’s like the future intended us not to know how the past has ended. Knowing why he would commit suicide couldn’t exit my brain. The reason why he killed himself nobody has ever found out, people were asking questions, wondering all day and all night. He is the reason, the reason why there was a World War 2. But today wasn’t that day, today is no World War 2, today is not the day he will commit suicide.

And then. The truth!

I am not here to kill.

I am here to investigate. To try to find evidence to stop a World War 3.

But as I slowly looked around myself I realized that it is emptiness.

I saw him being transported out of the camp as I then followed the truck to see where it led I saw something that caught my eye. The street sign. It said in Bold letters “Welcome to Karachi!!”

“What in the world is Karachi?” I questioned myself not realizing until the time I heard the truck disappearing into the dust.

He is gone, he is gone, I can’t do anything because he is gone.

Hitler is gone!

And I let him escape.

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Your Typical Kind Boy – Iyan Yang “Hailey” Nick scolded “That’s your third plate of spaghetti! Don’t you think that's a little too much? You’re gonna get sick!”

“Oh my! I ate 3 plates of spaghetti? What? I never knew - even though I’m the one eating it!

Besides, no matter how much I eat, I won’t gain fat. Thanks for telling me Nick!” I sassed back.

I knew I did the right thing when he just glared at me speechless with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Anyways,” I managed to continue even with a mouth full of food, “Being the teacher’s pet you are, are you going to go help Mr Slater with grading the assignments after school again?”

“Y-yeah.” Nick stuttered back as he shifted in his seat.

Even after all those years, he still got nervous when I called him out about helping the teachers.

I checked the time on my watch. The clock illuminated a blue 11:44PM. I looked at Nick and he just nodded. Giving in my tray to the cafeteria lady, I signaled a goodbye and went to my next class. Nick waved back with a smile.

After an uneventful 3 hours of class, I went to see if Nick was done helping for once. Normally I would wait for him in front of the school gates, but today the room was close. I peeked through the classroom door to avoid distraction.

What I saw next changed everything.

His posture was slumped, with his face buried in his hands, but it was enough to make out the distressed state he was in. His eyebrows were furrowed. His eyes were filled with fear and melancholy. This wasn’t the Nick I knew.

I wanted to call out his name. Ask if he was ok. But no. My mind went blank and my body did not listen. All it did was clumsily fall back out of shock until I hit a locker from the other side of the hallway. The crash made a loud clunk.

It all happened so fast. His dark expression was instantly masked with a buoyant facade, with darkness only left lingering in his eyes.

But that wasn’t what scared me. It was the fact that that was how his eyes looked everyday, with the jovial smile and the dark eyes that were so mysterious until now, which sent shivers down my spine.

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And I didn’t even take the hint.

Nick packed his bag, and made his way out of the classroom to see what the noise was. He was taken aback when he saw me.

I snapped out of my trance as he started to speak.

“Hailey? What are you doing here? And um… Are you ok?” He stared at my…unique position His tone was kind and calm, just like it always was. Except this time, with what I just saw, it was nowhere near soothing. It was chilling, how he switched from one personality into another in milliseconds.

I replied back a little too quickly “I’m fine.”

He stared at me with skeptical eyes, and in that moment, I was sure he saw me peeking through the classroom doors. I completely froze, my brain attempting to shut down and find an excuse at the same time. I was so screwed. I shouldn’t have loHe gasped, “I know! It’s the spaghetti isn’t it. I told you to just stick with 2 dishes!” Nick completely crashed my train of thought… Really? That was all he could think of? I giggled. It almost made him sound like the same old joyful Nick.

Except he wasn’t.

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Bully- Shessan Sivabalan I can’t believe it!

I don’t know what to do…

It is just indescribable…

I was really wanting to help…

But I couldn’t… ***************** ************ I was just having another wonderful day in Singapore and no problem was arising.

It was like normal to me to be like this. It was just another enjoyable time.

Singapore is a place where I breath fresh air and I could smell the variety of foods at different stalls. When I touched the ground, I could feel the purity in it. It’s really hard to say that you don’t like living in Singapore.

I was overjoyed.

While I was walking back from school, I heard a bully’s voice echo all over me.

You see, I have a problem with bullies and when they bully children.

Eventually, I have to bully the bullies. This time, I heard the voice of a bully and it was aggravating. I arrived at the crime scene (I would say this because bullying is a crime). The moment I noticed the issue, I stood up like a man and shoved the bully down. One thing that was surprising was that the fact that the bully fell down like a lion losing to a rooster. As though, he was used to being hit.

“Stop!”

An adult came this time and bulldozed me out of the way; he helped the bully get to his feet.

“He was bullying this child-” “So what! He works for me and we own these streets,” exclaimed the adult.

“Who are you to own these streets!” I shouted back at them.

The adult looked like an 8-foot human who had krinkles near his eyes and had been attacked few minutes ago. He seemed to desperately want to hurt the boy and 94 | P a g e

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get the money. One thing that was odd was that he was panting a lot even though he did nothing but just shove me.

“Maybe something happened to him before came,” I muttered.

I actually didn’t know what to do; I was in grave vulnerability because an adult was going to challenge me! The adult would undeniably be as hard as nails and could hook me up without showing a tiny hinge of effort but I couldn’t just let them excruciatingly torture the boy who was just trying to keep possession on his money…

“Hand it over, you little rat” The words the bullies had spoken just slapped me so hard that I felt like just toppling down in convulsion! The poverty stricken, homeless, minuscule boy was just trying his best but he couldn’t and the bullies were just stealing all the money they could possess.

I urged myself to discontinue what there were doing.

I shoved the bullies right to the wall and their heads started to bleed like squashed parasites. The laughter they had, died (sadly) and it changed to ferocious growls; my plan was for them to come and try to beat me up while the homeless child scurries away.

Suddenly, I felt a strong hand grasp me. The adult was furious and I was incapable of defending myself. But instead of beating me up, he tied me to a bland pole while the other bully noticed that the boy had escaped!

“Where did he go?” growled one of the bullies.

“He ran away,” replied the other.

“And so will you,” told a fine gentleman coming out of a car.

“Who are you?” I questioned.

“A person who you will never know, and I would run before you get the opportunity to know me better,” replied the gentlemen. At this point, the bully released his grip on me.

I ran…

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One thing I saw while I was running was the bully victim who was in the car watching all the commotion between the gentlemen and the bullies. I wanted to say one word to him but suddenly‌ Everything went pitch black...

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The Sin – Jasper Lee and Daehwan Kim Minho Optimism... the only light gleaming from my obscure, cold skirmish of life was gradually transforming into darkness. The sharp piercing tones ricocheted around my head and tore up my heart.

Where did I belong?

I worked in a small restaurant in Mexico; I swept the floor continuously. I was a foreigner. My hands seemed useless since I only used them to clean the dirty floor - which would never become pristine. In Korea, my parents were lawyers but here I cleaned the floor.

Jorge I used to work in a restaurant. It was not a lot of money but it saved my daughter and myself from hunger.

People should know the following…

“Once a wooden plank is nailed, you can take the nail off but the mark of it stays forever…”

I could feel it. I could feel the unstoppable rage, frustration, and hatred in the edge of my mind. My vexed and frustrated emotions were blocking my blood veins. I wanted to torture them; I wanted to kick him out. The fundamentals of them - the roots, all without a little dust.

He took my spot, the only spot that I could SUSTAIN. What the heck does a Korean know about Mexican food anyway? They just work for cheaper.

Time and perspective had changed and euphoric days have passed.

Minho The direction of my life was no longer straight; the only thing I could see was little branching paths leading to nowhere. I have lived most of my life in Mexico. It now felt like my home, where I belong. My sanctuary. But, being Korean, I knew I had to leave sometime… someday.

Little did I know, that time could be very soon.

Jorge

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A redundant cycle of an unstoppable needle churning like it is never going to stop. The Sun gleaming from my face to my back was gradually hiding behind the valley. Then the serene, starry night appeared as the moon eclipsed my face.

I have a daughter. She is now five years old. She lost her mother after her birth. A lack of food had desiccated her torso. Getting the job became so essential, otherwise it’ll lead my daughter and me to death. Everything seemed like my fault. My daughter suffered from starvation; I suffered from searching for a job.

And all because of those Koreans, those puny little people that interrupt my work. Is it my fault that their country is at war? They carry my money and use it where they want. I just want to give up everything. I just feel like I’m stuck in hell with the devil leading me to death.

But… a gleaming streak of light was my only hope and salvation. The only thing I could do was take…

REVENGE! Minho Maybe I was too innocent so I didn’t notice people’s “dark side”! And I shouldn’t be by now.

Not after surviving a vicious civil war...

My suffering echoed through my soul. It was a wavering heartbeat, pulsating quickly, but missing some of the beats. My voice shivered, my emotions collapsed, as if I was surrounded with fear and frustration about my life...

I tried to forget about the future but it wasn’t easy. Whenever I tried to forget, events kept reminding me. It tortured me both mentally and physically. Drops of sweat rapidly escaped from my forehead. My hands shivered against the torment.

I screamed in agony but only terse voices came back like a boomerang. People glared at me like a ravenous lion staring at its prey. Every day was monotonous. A day felt like weeks! I had no time to hesitate, not even a millisecond. Truculence rushed in and impaled me; it struck my entire body like tremendous waves crashing the rocks. I felt like I was stuck in twilight... with darkness dressed as dazzling daylight, pretending to lead me to paradise but actually dragging me to death.

Jorge The exceptionally pale wardrobe was glancing towards me. I gradually opened it and I could see one of my shirts that was very special to me. Emotional frostbite was sensed from the verge of my pale skin. I touched the crumpled up shirt; particles of frost fell to the ground. But 98 | P a g e

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it was immaculate, then I thought, it had a hidden brightness that could give me some hope. I opened the door, all ready for the sin I was about to commit.

I thought that I walked out with my own will, but to others it probably seemed like I was controlled like a marionette. My daily path to “work” felt strange now for I’m headed to do what I never thought I would ever do.

I met him. He had the badge that only the workers in the restaurant receive. MY badge! The badge that would feed MY family!

I took my dagger. The glinting part of it was screaming for blood. As soon as he turned his back, I gradually went to him ready to stab him.

“Everything is over after I kill this filthy Korean,” I thought to myself.

Minho I stared at the man in front of me. He looked awful - a lot like me! I asked him, “Are you okay?”

Jorge Lumbering towards him, I felt an instinct like guilt that came across my head. I fell on my knees and drops of tears swirled down.

Minho “My friend, are you okay?”

Jorge I felt extreme remorse. I approached him to take his life away and he just asks me “are you ok?” How can a human be so cordial? And nothing changes even if I kill him. It only stays as a shame upon myself.

People say all humans are full of sins. But there are also those who are meant to understand you.

Minho “My friend, are you okay?”

Jorge “I am fine...”

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Dean –Amalia Carney *beep beep beep* “Shut up” I muttered, throwing the clock across the room. It stopped beeping. “Great,” I grumbled. “That's the third one this month.” I pulled the covers over my head, desperate to go back to sleep.

Stupid expensive clocks. I don't even know why I buy them, I thought to myself, easing back into a dream.

My eyes shot open.

I’m late.

“Shoot, shoot shoot.” I cursed, throwing on one of the many shirts that loitered on my floor. Oh God, I’m late. “Where are my notes!” I bellowed to no one in particular. I am so, so very dead. “Found them,” I shouted again into the darkness. I rushed out of the dormitory like a man deranged. Literally. I had forgotten my pants.

Finally, I left the campus, fully clothed. I scanned my notes, trying to embed the knowledge into my brain.

“Why did I have to take literature?” I growled.

In Shakespeare's ‘Romeo and Juliet’ what are some connotations made concerning Juliet’s family? Oh heck if I know. I began to cross the road, my nose buried in my notebook. *Honk!* I ignored the sound, too preoccupied to care. *HONK!* I paused, looking for the source of the noise.

What the-

Death

I am not human.

That much I know.

Humans die. I don’t.

But I take care of those who die.

That's my job.

I am the Grim Reaper; I am the death bringer.

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I am Didi.

My job is to take care of those who have passed. I think I’m rather good at my job.

Apparently, I’m too good. The whole thing about the reapers is that we have a cycle.

Each reaper is expected to perform the duties of the Grimm for around 10,000 years.

I’ve been doing this for 50,000 years.

It started when I remodeled. The guy before me had anyone who wasn’t a saint go to Hell, which seemed a tad extreme to me. The infants who died had no time to make their lives a wonder, we had teens suffering whose only fault was a lie they told about doing their homework ‘at Rachel’s house’.

So I abolished Hell.

Of course, we had to do something with the actual bad guys. The murderers, the rapists.

The people who failed life, as opposed to the people that life failed.

So they ceased to exist.

I know you must be wondering: how does someone cease to exist? How can their being be completely wiped? It’s simple, in a not so simple way. You see after everyone dies, their soul moves on. And while most people assume their judgement awaits them in the afterlife, most of the time we use how they think of themselves to judge them. You would be surprised how honest people can be with themselves when they think they are facing eternal damnation.

For those who were ‘heroes’ (you know, the lifesaving, child fostering type) they get heaven. But it looks different to everyone. People of different religions will experience different things.

But what about those who aren’t heroes? People who just lived their life without committing neither crime nor an act of heroism. We call them “mundanes”. They are not your Mother Teresas. They are not your Hitlers. Mundanes are those who are average.

And so they get an average death. I’ve made different programs. Neighborhoods if you will. Mundanes go to what I call the ‘grey area’.

It is essentially just them living but in death. There are some perks of course. There's no criminals, no death (ironic, isn’t it?) and no taxes. The grey area is where people can finally live without the pressures of living. They can be what they want to be. They don’t need a job, but they can get one if they wish. Different neighborhoods contain different types of people. Type As and Type Bs aren't always compatible.

Death is eternal after all. I believe the least they deserve is peace.

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I would tell you what they can see, but I don’t know. Reapers are different. Our only job is to deliver them to the rest of their deaths. After that we move on the next person. And then the next. And the next.

But I don’t even get to see them. The people for whom I have created worlds. I'm stuck behind a screen, sending out orders, editing the matrix of each world. It's a lonely life.

That's why I’m changing the rules.

I'm going to start interviewing people. Not reapers, but humans. I need an assistant.

Well, maybe not need.

But I do want one.

Which is kind of a need, in a way.

Isn’t it?

Yeah it is.

And tomorrow (even though time is ‘technically’ infinite here), my need will be fulfilled.

Dean *Beep Beep Beep* Talk about deja vu.

My eyes shot open. A blinding white light encased me, shining so vibrantly that it could have blinded me. As the glow faded, I took in my surroundings. I was in an….

Office?

“Next!” a voice blared out, seemingly from nowhere. I scanned the room. I was sitting on a plush velvet couch. There was nothing else in the room other than a door. It was mahogany, and had one of those bronze knockers that you would expect to see in a castle. I stood up, moving to the door. I looked to my left, and there was a mirror. But it wasn't there before. I looked at the figure in the mirror, unsure of what I was seeing.

It was me, but it wasn’t. I was dressed in all white. Even my dirty blond hair had a weirdly white glow around it. All my… blemishes, I guess you would call them, were all gone. My scars, my pimples. Even my freckles seemed like they had been rearranged to look symmetrical. What the…

“I said, NEXT!” There was the voice again. I jumped, startled, and hurried through the open door. I was in an office. It was just an office. There was a big mahogany desk in the center of the room. A big red plush chair behind it, facing the wall. There was a 14ft window that encased the breathtaking view of a city. Wait… That’s my city.

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It was New York.

I could see Central Park. I could see the hives of people that made their way through their lives. I could see dogs running around, I could see the buildings that towered like titans. But I shouldn’t be able to, I thought to myself. There was never a view like this in New York. Every terrace was blocked by buildings, every view ruined by pollution. The office was situated directly over….

The Empire State building?

As I tried to comprehend how on earth I seemed to be hovering above one of New York's most famous landmarks, the chair spun around. In that moment the world I created in my head was one of fantasy. The person sat in the chair would be the head of the Mafia, entrusting me with billions of dollars. In the chair would sit the President of the United States, presenting me a medal of valor. The person in that chair was….

A teenage girl?

Didi “Hello Dean.” I said, taking in the boy before me. He’s nothing special. At least, not to me. I suppose, if I were human, he might be slightly appealing, with his shaggy blond hair and vibrant blue eyes. If I were human, I might have been slightly interested in the way he parted his hair away from his eyes…

Where was I? “Where am I?” he asked, gazing at me imploringly. I opened my file, ready to explain everything just like I had practiced. Deep breaths, Didi. It's worse for him than it is for you, after all, he has just died.

“WHAT!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the desk. “I'm dead?”

I forgot to say it in my head. It gets kind of hard to tell what you actually say aloud when you’ve been alone for as long as I have. Oops.

“Will someone please tell me what's going on here,” Dean asked, looking as if he was going to have a panic attack. “I have a class I need to get to, and I swear if I miss this test I am going to have to redo the semester, and I really don’t want to retake Mr. Mitchell's class again, I could barely keep up I was so-” “Dean, calm down,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about your classes any more. It's one of the benefits of being dead.” He froze again.

I really need to work on my people skills.

Dean 103 | P a g e

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I’m dead?

No. I can't be.

I looked down at my hands, and I realised that the white glow was me. I was glowing. I was a ghost. Then it struck meThis is a prank.

It had to be. I started laughing. “Yeah, okay sure,” I chuckled. “I’m dead. Why not?

When’s my appointment with God, because I was really hoping to try out the angel bumper cars before lunch.” The girl looked at me in bewilderment.

“No, you really are dead,” she stated, nodding in assurance. “Also, we can arrange that appointment with God if you want, but it says on your file that you’re an atheist so I’m not sure why you want to meet Him.” I raised my eyebrows. Oh, so we’re playing hardball now? Okay then. “Listen, no offence Miss whoever the heck you are, but I really don’t have time for your pranks right now.” I said.

“Dean-” she started.

“Now I’m sure this would have been beautifully executed, but I’ve got my English Exam in 15 minutes, so I'm afraid we’re going to have to pause this little charade.”

“Dean-” she started again, getting more annoyed by the second.

“Just tell Micheal or Jack or whoever orchestrated this that it didn’t work, okay?” I taunted, turning towards the door. Suddenly, she appeared right in front of me, grabbing my skull.

“What the heck!” I shouted.

“The only way to make you believe is to show you.” she muttered under her breath. She closed her eyes.

Suddenly my brain lit up. Images flashed in my mind as her thoughts melded into mine.

Words flew across my eyelids as I took in everything she was trying to tell me.

I am not human

abolished Hell

doing this for 50,000 years

job is to take care of those who have passed

I am the death bringer ceased to exist Mundanes go to what I call the ‘grey area’ essentially just them living but in death I'm stuck behind a screen

heroes get heaven Death is eternal

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changing the rules

It's a lonely life

I collapsed, falling into a chair that magically appeared behind me.

“Magic chairs,” I mumbled, dazed in my own shock.

“Why not.” I looked up, and saw that the girl, this teenage girl who just told me I was dead, was still staring at me.

“Sorry about that.” she said.

“Who are you?” I asked, searching for any clue that could allude to this still being a morbid prank.

“I’m Death,” she said rather cheerfully. I cocked my head to the side, trying to comprehend how this teenager could possibly be the incarnation of Death.

“I am the Grim Reaper,” she clarified, waiting for a response. I nodded slowly.

“Sure. Why not. Why wouldn’t the very being of Death himself- I mean herself be a teenager. Do me a favour there, Lucifer, and remind me to stop mixing redbull with my coffee.”

“Wow” she said, almost in amazement. “The grim reapers were right. Humans really are annoying,” “Hey!” I said indignantly.

“N0, really, you are!” she continued. “You’re obnoxious, sarcastic, selfish, stupid and-” “That's enough.” I said, beginning to grow tired of this teen Satan.

“Sorry,” she said. “I have no filter when I'm stressed.” What on earth does she have to be stressed about? She’s not the one who just died.

“It's okay.” I replied, stewing in the awkward silence. “Soooooo….. What exactly am I doing here?”

Didi Okay.

Now it was make or break time.

It was time to give him the contract.

The one which I spent 100 years perfecting.

He would say yes.

Wouldn’t he?

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I snapped my fingers willing the contract to appear. “What's that?” he asked, flinching at its sudden appearance. “This,” I said, trying to be dramatic, kind of like what I had seen on K-drama, “Is what will become of your undead life.”

Dean “You want me to what?” I asked, scanning the paper before me.

“Stay with me.” she replied, sounding almost melancholy.

“And do what exactly?” I took a deep breath, a feeling of trepidation settling over me like a blanket over a child.

“Help.” she said plainly.

“Why would you need my help? You are literally the Grim Reaper. You can make anything appear out of thin air. You created worlds, universes for the dead to live in.

How in hell am I meant to help with that, I mean I’m dead!”

“I’m lonely.” she said sadly.

“What?” I replied.

“That's what you humans call it right? Lonely? Well that's what I am. I can't interact with the humans, I can't interact with the reapers unless I’m giving the orders, and I can’t even interact with the people for whom I build worlds. I’m lonely.” she finished.

“Okay, say that's true… what do I get out of it?” I asked.

“Well if you sign this contract,” she continued patiently, “You would be given the full powers of a Grim. The hours are alright, and you get one day every month to go visit the mundane. You can’t say anything of course, or let them know you’re there, or else our entire operation will be blown. You would get paid,” she paused, thinking carefully.

“Quite a large amount actually, I think it was around 1 million dollars a week? Oh no, my mistake it's 10 million. You can't really do anything with the money though, so that might not be very appealing.”

“What?” I stuttered weakly. “10 million dollars?”

She nodded. “A week yes. I suppose you could be allowed to give it to your family, though I doubt there’s any way they can rationalise over 100 million dollars appearing in their savings account. Wait,” she paused, opening a drawer and pulling out a file.

“You don’t have a family, do you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “No, I remember now. That's one of the reasons I chose you, because your file said you didn't have any family members. I figured it would be easier for you, seeing as... Wait are you crying?”

I shook my head. “No of course I’m not crying.” Even then I felt a tear glisten down my cheek. “It's just, the file’s wrong.”

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She raised her eyebrow. “The files are never wrong,” she insisted. “Maybe I didn’t read it properly, give me a minute.” She scanned her eyes down the pages. Seconds later she sighed. “Oh. Oh no. Dean, I'm so very sorry.”

She found it. My most well-kept secret. The one thing I never told any of my friends about.

My sister.

I grew up in an “abusive environment”. My dad was always coming home drunk, and my mom was never home. I always took the hits. That was the only way to keep him, it, away from my sister. My little Connie. One night, it got really bad. My mom was out of town, again, and it was just me and Connie. Connie broke her hand. I broke 2 ribs that night. And my nose. My arm. And my wrist. I was 16. Connie was 12. She felt always felt responsible for letting me take the brunt, and that night she wanted to help.

She just wanted to help.

I got her into the car, blood streaming down my face. She was crying in the back, and I couldn’t bear it. I needed to get her to the hospital. It was just 2 blocks away. That's what I told myself that night.

I should never have gotten in that car.

We crashed. We were hit by a drunk driver. I’ve had my fair share of drunks.

I lived. So did she. In a way.

She’s been in a coma for 2 years.

My dad passed away a month after the accident.

And my mom never came back.

That's my big secret. I put my little sister in a coma.

“I'm so sorry Dean,” Didi repeated, now behind me, patting my shoulder. “But there’s nothing you can do for her. If you come with me she’ll be set up for life. You can use the money to give her the best care. You can visit her, and it will be different this time. You’ll be able to talk to her.”

“How?” I shook my head. “She’s in a coma. I can’t change that.”

“No,” she nodded slowly. “You can't. But I could help you talk to her.”

“What?” I said weakly.

“One of the powers of a reaper is that we can communicate with the dying. She’s been dying for 2 years, Dean. At least now you could talk to her. All you have to do is sign.”

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I could see my little sister again. I could apologise. I could fix everything. But what if she doesn’t want to talk to me? I took away 2 years of her life. She won't forgive me. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. But… She deserves a chance to have a choice.

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.” She clapped her hands. “Spectacular! I need you to sign here, here and here,” she pointed to various articles on the contract. I skimmed the contract, my eyes watering. I paused, the words ‘no contact’ catching my eyes.

Article 392_Deceased Subject agrees not to interfere with the job of the Grim Reaper. Subject will not be able to plead for his loved one’s life, and will have no contact with the aforementioned once they pass into the Grey Area.

“What is this, Didi?” I asked.

“Oh that's nothing really,” she stammered, trying to turn the page. “It's just something my lawyers, the Furies, came up with, to make sure you don’t try to stop the Grims from claiming lives. It's their jobs, after all.” she smiled weakly.

“It says I can’t contact people in the Grey Area. Doesn’t that mean I can’t see my sister when she-” I choked on the words. “When she passes?”

“It’s just a technicality,” she assured me. “Once you’ve proven that you won’t try to get her back or anything. Really, I'm sure we can change it once you’ve signed on.”

I nodded in understanding, trying to process. “Now there’s just one more thing to sign.” she pointed to the dotted line at the bottom of the paper.

I took the pen from the inkwell, and moved to sign my name. My hand hovered there, letting a blot of ink fall from the pen onto the parchment. I watched, mesmerized as the ink spread along the creases of the paper, like water flowing down a river. I lowered my hand, when something slipped from underneath my sleeve onto my hand. My hospital bracelet.

I got it on that night. When they admitted me and my sister into the emergency room. It stayed on my hand as I left the hospital, my sister missing from my side. I remember trying to get it off. I ripped and tore at it, only managing to leave scars on my wrist. I decided to leave it there, as a reminder. I had worn it for two years.

“But what if she doesn't pass?” I asked. “What?’ she replied. “Well surely you people have ways of knowing if people are going to die. What are the chances that she lives?” I demanded. She sighed. “Dean, it's a 90% chance of her dying. I'm sorry.” I flinched. “But that means there’s a 10% chance that she’ll live,” I said. “And if she does...” Didi sighed.

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“If she does,” I continued. “I won't be able to talk to her right?” She nodded in confirmation.

I can’t leave her.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped suddenly, trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry Didi, I can’t do it.”

She shook her head.

“I know Dean. It's okay.” she clasped my hands in hers. “You’re a good person Dean Quincy. It wasn’t your fault. Your little sister has always looked up to you, and for good reason. She says hi, by the way.”

I looked up, tears streaming down my face. “What? You can talk to her?”

Didi shook her head. “I had one of my Reapers check in on her. I would let you say hello, but I have a feeling you’ll be able do that yourself, soon enough.” I looked at her imploringly. She laughed. “Maybe the Grim Reaper is meant to be evil, but never let it be said that I don’t have a heart. Go on now. I believe you have a test to take.”

I stood up from my chair, and walked towards the door. I looked back at her, and I saw sadness in her eyes. It was the same one which I bore for years. When she noticed me, she smiled, giving her eyes a familiar glint that I couldn't quite place. I waved, turned and walked into the blinding light that had filled the doorway. The last sound that reached my ears was “She’s waiting for you.” ****************************** *beep beep beep* “Someone get the doctor! We’ve got a pulse!”

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Innocent betrayal – Kate Koo and Lois Lee In recognition of the research done by Judith Wallerstein…

Narrator: (walks onto the centre of the stage with lights above) Divorce has spread by the highest numbers throughout the twenty-first century. It’s an action which causes not only heartbreaking breakups but also long term harm such as a loss in trust, PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), sudden obesity, fights throughout ongoing lawsuits and deterioration in broad terms of the psychological mindset as well as the physical health of a being. But one of the most astounding cons of divorce is the growth and thoughts belonging to the child. To adjust to the separation of his or her two legal guardians takes approximately two years. The age of the child plays a role in how they react to the divorce.

Children under 9 years tend to blame themselves for the divorce and often dream about their parents getting back together again someday.

Preschoolers become more dependent which makes them require more attention love care and confirmation.

Adolescents become more independent, felt betrayed by their parents and start to feel mistrust. To them their main priority is themselves because that’s what they thought their parents prioritized as well.

Children always look up to their parents and sometimes they receive wrong influence from the wrong people. Apparently boys became more rebellious and aggressive whereas the girls became more sexually active starting from an earlier age.

Many common effects held upon the children of the divorced parents include: bitterness, stress, emotional pain, anxiety, fear, feeling abandoned, feeling betrayed and a loss of selfesteem.

Judith Wallerstein a psychologist who studied marriage and divorce for 25 years and lectured at the prestigious schools: Harvard, Cornell, Stanford and Yale, reportedly said “only 40% of children from divorce actually marry.”

Today we look at a common case scenario of a family consisting of a mother, father and a child where the mother and father have divorced. We’ll be scrutinizing the perceptions of the 7-yearold child Yunus Barrett… (narrator exits the stage and the child, father, and nanny come on and replace narrator on the spot.)

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Yunus: (nanny and dad are in tableau holding hands) I felt betrayal… I clenched my fists and stared at him.

(Yunus stares at father) I felt unpleasant tingles running down my spine. I never experienced emotions which made me so confused and indignant (by the way, I learned those words from summer hagwon) …His hand is clutched tight to another... the hand of my nanny.

Justin: (holds the nanny tightly) Yunus: (spotlight on son) But daddy was supposed to hold my hand! Was my nanny my long lost sister? (hides behind the walls while sending him glares). I couldn’t describe the loneliness. How could they forget me?! I was too cute and attractive to miss! And plus, why was daddy stealing my nanny? Mom hired her for me!! She was mineeee!!!!! *** (Blackout) Alice: (Spotlight on mother and other characters freeze in motion) It was the start of the week and rain poured down the windows viciously. Just the same plain old day where the sun infiltrated the sky. (Quickly run to Yunus’ room and wake him up. Yell loudly in a dragging tone) (characters unfreeze and are in motion) YUNUS WAKE UP IT’S TIME FOR SCHOOL!!!!!

Yunus: (With an annoyed expression on his face he mumbles, yells and moans at the same time) Mom, you ruined my beauty sleep!

Alice: (spotlight on mother; other characters freeze) For a moment, I realized that there wasn’t any school on the weekend. I’d gotten so caught up in my work that I hadn’t realized that today was the weekend. I felt instantaneously guilty. Just then Justin came in the room. I sensed an ominous feeling about what he was about to tell me. Not again! I didn’t want to fight about my career again! This is my only chance to get this position and I won’t get it by working less then the men! (characters unfreeze, and the play carries on) Justin: (excited squeaky voice) We hired a new nanny!

Alice: (aggravated facial expression, no excitement) Why would we need an extra nanny for our house?

Justin: Well, since you’re working extra hours every day, I thought that it would be best to bring in a nanny for Yunus. I know that you have dreamed of this promotion so this will help all of us.

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Alice: (spotlight on the mother, and other characters freeze) I thought about whether I should accept this proposal. Since the nanny was for the benefit of Yunus I gave in. Sure. I mean nothing's going to go wrong… right? I had an extremely important meeting with the CEO which could result in a promising promotion. Which meant, however, I would have to interview the nanny before…

Justin: (spotlight on the father, and other characters freeze) I listened as she kept on talking about work. I remembered the past days when we used to go on road trips or fishing trips. I wished we could return to those precious memories. I quickly said goodbye to my wife and headed out for business. (wave to the wife) I was supposed to be the person in the family who was the busiest, however that burden seemed to go into the wrong hands...

Alice: (spotlight only on Alice wandering around stage rapidly) I sensed some kind of fishiness about the new nanny being hired but there are many benefits of having her here to take care of Yunus. Suddenly (doorbell sound effect) The bell rang. My expected guest, (Walks up to door and opens after some hesitation) Christine? (nanny walks in) As I opened the door a young lady who seemed sweet and pure appeared. Her first impression was…not too bad. Anyway, now all I need to do is to ask about her experience… then I can finally go to work…

She greeted me with a smile and I gestured for her to sit to a nearby table. She was 27 yearsold, graduated from Sunshine Coast Community College in Australia? She spent her whole life living in Cali, but she's from the Philippines? I noticed her accent, skin color, and the unbranded clothes she wore. I heard at work, “Filipinos are always late to work!”, “My child’s old ‘Filipino’ nanny…” and a few other negative comments. By now I was disappointed by her background life. I really wanted to hire a better quality nanny for Yunus but I really needed to go to work! I told her the details about the house and what kind of chores she needed to do.

She silently nodded for every comment I said as I left the house. Hopefully, she’ll do the job properly! (leaves the stage) Nanny: (spotlight only on Nanny) My heart pounded in repeating steps as I walked in small strides towards my job. This was a complete new opportunity to make a good enough salary to actually make a change for my living condition and my nephew who was on life support. I mean I could earn enough for my family with the daily salary that the Barrett's were providing for me. I'm thankful that Mr.Barrett hired me after that incident… (father comes back on stage) Jim looks unusually tired and alone. Yunus comes downstairs, rubbing his eyes.

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Yunus: Daddy? Where's mom?

Jim: I felt kind of bad for him. All the other children have ordinary moms who stay at home doing housework and taking care of the children. Yunus doesn't have a mom to do that stuff… I mean, I'm a dad! I'm not supposed to do things like that…

Christine: Mr.Barret, when will you and Yunus have dinner? Should I get it ready now?

Jim: (startled at being interrupted) Oh, um… yea….

I stuttered and hesitated… why? Was I not used to this kind of situation where a woman in the house ever cared for me? I felt kindness and care from Christine, not just a normal one but… truthful kindness.

It’s not surprising what happened next… (blackout and lights come back on) Yunus: (nanny and dad are in tableau holding hands) I felt betrayal… I clenched my fists and stared at him.

(Yunus stares at father) I felt unpleasant tingles running down my spine. I never experienced such emotions which made me confused and indignant (by the way, I learned those words from summer hagwon). His hand is clutched tight to another... the hand of my nanny.

Justin: (holds the nanny tightly) Narrator: The family is broken up. Not everyone came out with a victory. They are all both the victims and the perpetrators. Whose fault it is? Is there an answer in the grey area of time, space, and emotion that surrounds Yunus, Jim, Alice, and Christine?

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Dear Dorothy – By Siwon Lee Dear Dorothy, Things have changed for me.

When the clock chimed eight o’clock, we were shepherded into a modest enclosure. Dressed in uniform and seated in our chairs, we waited for instructions. Stiffly, I sat out of place, my bowed head casting dull shadows upon the fidgeting fingers on my lap. Driven by a sinister mix of curiosity and disquiet, I glanced up every now and then to see a blur of grey.

The constant rustle of shackles rung out through the sickly polluted corridors. This wasn’t the usual optimistic chipper that darted between the walls of the school. Remember? The youth used to prowl these halls with a confident skip to their walk and an eager sway to their hips; now we stagger and trip through the thick molasses of animosity and imprisonment.

It started at the Pyeongchang Olympics. Overwhelmed by the immense amount of cooperation and generosity from North Korea, 문재인 had swept the U.S military force from Korea. He stated that inviting the North into our country with guns and threats pointed at them was not doing favors.

He had wanted to reflect the hospitality...Now his head was missing a small concoction of flesh and bone. A halo of his blood was smeared on the slate of ice that an elegant woman had twirled on moments before.

North Korean soldiers surrounded the stadium. This was the first public execution I witnessed.

Little did I know, this would be a daily routine.

Civilians who promised their faith to 장군님 김정은 were set free to roam the obliterated streets.

They abused their freedom, shouting the glorified lies of North Korea. Rewarded and corrupt, the elated traitors were happy to list the names of uncooperative Korean patriots.

We met every four days. Never at the same place and never at the same time. We started with two hundred eager members spread across the cities of 인천 (Incheon), 서울(Seoul), 부산 (Busan) and 대구 (Daegu) but the numbers shortened drastically every day.

Children, women, men and the elderly were compressed into a dimly lit basement to trade information in subdued whispers. “무슨 일이 있었는지 들었 니?”

“도망 갔다는데-” “ 우리도-”

“어저께-”

“안 돼-”

“한명또-”

“도아줘-”

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A GRAY AREA A sharp knock at the door alarmed the cowering members. A feverish young girl stumbled to hide behind her mother’s skirt. Others scampered for cover behind undusted boxes. Children were hushed and the elderly were escorted to safety. United in consternation, everyone held their skipping hearts and waited.

A man stepped forward. He limped wordlessly to the door with wide eyes and put a hand over the handle. “누구새-“ Before the man could articulate his words, a harsh kick was delivered to the door, breaking the rusted hinges and splintering the dull wooden door. The shards showered over the crowd like rain on a sunny day. “재발 놔 주세요! 딸과 며늘이을 돌봐야합니다!” (Please let me go! I must look after my daughter and wife!) the screams were endless as my fellow members were dragged away by the North Korean soldiers.

So now we’re here.

In a grey room, in a grey building, in a grey country with grey people.

It’s a grey area.

This is the last letter I can smuggle before they catch on. They already suspect the unusual activities stirring in their vile cave. It won’t be long until I’m dragged away. They weed us out one by one.

Goodbye for now. 이시원

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A key to happiness – Daniel Pak As the house creaked, I woke up on my bed. A shearing cold pierced through the house, like even the wind wanted to wake me up. I would rather sleep all day instead of having the same old day. I have been playing my guitar for a year in this place.

Sometimes, I still think about how I got here...

After I graduated college, I decided to become a musician because I used to love music since I was a kid, so I had a strong passion for that kind of stuff. I left my house to start my own path because my parents had used up all their money on sending me to the college. I moved up to a small, old house. I was not very satisfied with my life at the moment because I felt like I don’t have any choice in my life due to my poverty. Right now, I had no choice but to keep on with the life I was living. I started wondering if the successful of people is determined by wealth.

My thoughts were discouraging me.

I went up to the streets where I play guitar with my band. Playing my guitar was the only happiness of my life. It made me throw off my negative thoughts. Occasionally, people throw some coins at us while we are playing. Sometimes, I want my life to give it a fresh start. But that would be nothing but a daydream since I don’t have enough money to give my life a “fresh start”; all I do with my money is buy food, after all.

I was envious of the people who were passing by us while we play our instruments.

They always looked happy and looked like they had everything that they wanted. I felt like a failure. And that was when I decided to get a proper job instead like the normal people. I wanted to be like them.

Several months later, I now work in a company. I did a job interview and surprisingly made it. At first, I looked forward to this new life. But now I miss playing music with my band. I shouldn’t do what the others people are doing, but take my own path of life.

If I thought being like a normal person was truly making me happy, then I was wrong.

Even with all the money I earned. Long time ago, I used to think that being normal was a good thing. Now I felt empty inside. This was not the life that I wanted. This was not me. When I used to play my guitar at the streets with my band, that was what it 116 | P a g e

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mattered the most to me. Come to think of it, playing my guitar was the only thing that made me happy, because I became a musician not because I wanted fame nor wealth.

It was because I always had passion for music throughout my entire life. Nothing else could possibly make me happy -- except doing what I truly wanted to do.

And that is how I decided to go back to doing what I truly want.

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Mix of Emotions – Alex Livingston For this story, each passage is a representation of one of the emotional states in the picture below. A single story can sound very different depending on who tells it and the emotional lenses that they use to recall events…

Mix of emotions

By Alex Livingston Inspired by “draw with jazza's” picture

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A fist the size of a meatball sandwich hits my face. It felt like someone threw a brick at my head. This was Josh; A bully the size of a mountain. I’m Billy-An 11-year-old in 6th grade.

I go to middle school, but I always forget what our school is called. What I do remember is our stupid mascot: It’s a bengal, and I know no one knows what that is so look at the end of the page*.

Before I continue, let me set the scene. It was the middle of percussion class. No not band, percussion class. There were about twelve kids around me, who, like me, were paired with a buddy behind a marimba. The teacher raged every week; He was a low tempered tank ready to fire at you. If you made a single mistake, he fired. There was one time we talked in class, and he had a tantrum. He threw a stand across the room. Crazy.

Now back to the story.

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Hopelessness The pain quickly spread across my eye. I could not see it, but it had to be turning black.

My heart wanted me to hit back, but my mind said “no”. I am in the middle of a class and I am not like him; I would never be like him. He yelled something stupid like a wolf pack. It didn't matter that someone would notice, someone should notice, but no one did.

I stood in silence trying not to stare into his evil eyes. That jerk, that bully, that creature would be punished. He had to be. All I did was comment on the song. I was just trying to help. I tried not to let the tears get through my eyes, but the sadness broke through my walls and the flood gates opened. The bell rang and I ran out of my room. I saw my friend Rodrigo and ran past him.

Hiding my shame.

“Billy what happened” Rodrigo practically yelled this, seeing his grey eye. I told him the story. The second I was done we started to joke about “wolf pack” sadly we didn’t know who was behind us. I turned to see another brick thrown at my face. I fell on the floor but this time I wasn't the only one who saw. Rodrigo wasn't the only one who saw.

Twenty kids were all around us. Five kids pulled him back, as the other twenty-five went to get a teacher. With all of their help, hopefully he will be suspended…

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FEAR A fist the size of a meatball sandwich hit him in face. It was my fist. I usually have a million thoughts but this time just one: run. My legs start moving and my stomach cramps at the same pace. Both are faster than my brain. This is a bad decision I know but my legs won't stop. I am as fast as a cheetah. ************************************* For a second, I thought I might run into the band room door before my hands got up to push it open. I ran because of fear at first but now I sort of enjoyed it.

The door flew open as I pushed passed the first blockade.

I heard the teacher yelling as loudly as if he had a megaphone.

“STOP” Not like I cared. Now I fear the teacher caching me. In my mind I have one hope.

The freedom outside. It had to be beautiful; We were in the middle of fall after all. The leaves would be hues of red orange and yellow. The foliage would all be in one big pile for me to jump into.

My day dream was cut short by more yelling. Now I had multiple bogeys on my tail- This included my science teacher Mr Kepler and my history teacher Mr Keating. My biggest fear is my P.E teacher. He can run a mile in four minutes and I can only run it in ten. My stomach was about to burst. This was a solid fear especially when he popped up right as I turned a corner…

Detention Even the word sounds dull. Especially at are school. The walls are a solid black; any emotion here was wiped out with a bucket of paint. The grey area was boring too. They had nothing to do and if you even moved your pinky toe they would kill you.

The first teacher sat down. They weren't nice though. They used words like “stupid boy”, “failure”, “It’s all your fault.”

The last teacher walked towards me; my band teacher. I see him and the rest as they are…

BULLIES all of them. Never on my side! Never on the other side; always their own. They don’t care what happens to you. At least not at this school. I now lose my fear and let my body take whatever insults they have.

I don't fear them anymore.

The second they turned their eyes, I stared at the open window. Like a majestic eagle, I flew into a pile of leaves.

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Anger A fist the size of a meatball sandwich hit my face. I look around the room trying to see if anyone saw it. It was clear to me that I had to take matters into my own hands. My mind races and rushes to think of what to do, but at the time only one thing came to mind: Fight back.

With the force of a fired bullet, my hand flew through the air delivering a clean blow right into his face.

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It felt amazing to hit the bully back for he had been annoying me for 8 months of school with his insults, stupidity, and failing to understand the concept of help. HE was like a short tempered (and ugly) gorilla and I had enough of him and all of his rudeness to me and everyone else.

He fell back and stared me in the eye, fists drawn and eyebrows down. What have I got myself into? I thought, he's twice as strong and twice my size (and twice as dense).

I anticipated his next move moving my arm up to block the blow. It stopped the blow but the force of the punch destroyed my arm. I knew I could not block again so this time I made myself ready to move to the right. HE launched the next blow towards my face but this time I was ready I dodged to the right. Then thinking quick, I punched him in the stomach then kicked his leg, trying to make him lose his balance.

HE fell down and I stood victorious…well, that's what I thought.

He shot up, throwing his fist into my face. I MADE HIM REALLY ANGRY NOW. THIS TIME, I WAS NOT PREPARED. I GOT MY DRUMSTICK AND TRIED TO HIT HIM IN THE SIDE. HE CAUGHT THE DRUMSTICK IN HIS HAND AND PULLED IT OUT with his titan like grip pulling him towards me. He was off his footing now so I kicked him in the chest causing him to fall down onto the thin red carpet over the hard marble. He groaned on the floor. I was sure I won.

But I was wrong.

He grabbed my leg and pulled. I tried to keep my ground but I did not expect it causing me to fall onto my back right next to the panting gorilla who hated me with whatever heart he had left. Neither of us did anything. We just drifted off into sleep where we dreamt of happy times at my house (me) and better parents, that are not divorced (him) I saw a bright light that radiated my face as I woke. The bully was beside me in the nurse's office awake.

I started to adjust to the bright light as the bully started to speak…

“I'm sorry” He had one tear that streaked down his face. He was not crying for remorse but for his life.

“Im..so sorry.

Sadness Josh woke up on a beat down couch with a spring poking into his back that had been bothering him all night making him toss and turn in the night. His stomach started to make demands to his brain causing pain throughout that rage. He slowly pulled himself out of bed with is wobbly hands and his noodle like legs.

And slowly made his way to the cockroach infested kitchen.

He quietly pulled open a cover making sure that not a single sound left the room and creeped to his abusive father’s bed where he slumbers as much as a koala. HE pulled out the only non-moldy bread in the entire cupboard. He scarfed it down like a lion that had never been fed almost barfing as he ate it from the staleness.

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A GRAY AREA HE pulled out one of the shards of glass from the once amazing sky light that covered the living room and used it to unlock another kids bike from across the street using the corner. After that he went to his backyard and took the stack of cash behind the rusted generator Then he got on the bike and left to school where he ended up in the office because of some dumb incident in band…

And that was how he ended up in the office making a friend with a kid he once hated. The nice kid that he had just hit in the face.

He wasn't sad anymore. He also wasn’t angry. The other kid didn’t fear him. I guess nothing can be described with only one emotion. Maybe the best way to describe how they were both feeling is the total of this book…

A mix of emotions

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Thud -Alice Kwon *Inspired by the Hiroshima nuclear bombing One bomb.

One mission.

One decision that killed us all.

No one can ever forget about that day. That horrible day…

It started as another normal day, one filled with endless paperwork and emails. Excruciating, but simple- taxing, but familiar.

And then there was a sudden flare.

That was it; that was the end of everything.

My world, your world.

My heart stopped as vision lightened; I was all alone in my little world. I could feel the wind pushing towards me and this unknown heat burning inside me. My long, black hair flickered around as I prayed earnestly, begging for this hell to end. After what felt like years of burning hell, I collapsed on the ground feeling empty as ever. I could barely stand on my own two feet: shaking legs, crushed bones, burnt flesh hanging.

We all looked like ghosts.

We were ghosts: a devil burnt in black. I was badly hurt, but nothing compared to everyone else…

There was no sign of my home city left in this chaos. Lingering around the old city light, I called for my family and friends but no one seemed to hear me. Desperately looking for my house, I kept on climbing to the peak of the mountain. I searched and searched as I limped back to what seemed like home.

As I stepped into the skeleton of the house, I felt something beneath my bare feet...

Something hard.

Something hot.

My heart dropped as my blood stopped to circulate. I could feel my face going all pale and I stood there, frozen in time. I didn’t want to witness this horrific scene but I couldn’t move as if a lemur was gripping on me- not letting me go. My head started to tilt downwards as I swallowed the fear down my throat.

Then I saw something I should have never seen.

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There lay my meaning of life, my mom, all alone, ripped into pieces. In disbelief, I kneeled down beside her and prayed for her to come back. I knew there was no hope, but I didn’t want to give up that easily.

I couldn’t. Not for her.

I walked towards the ledge with her soul clenched to my heart and looked down to the city of the walking dead. The cold wind pushed through me and all I had in my mind was how I was the one who let her die alone.

I didn’t want to live. Not like this; not without her.

Remembering the fond memories that we had together, we headed to another world as I sang to her her favourite poem…

Alone in my room looking at the moon.

Realising what a big world I was in, What a lonely place I was in, Frowning as they shine brightly Looking like brave knights But they are truly full of fright.

Here I am today, hardened to gray.

Gray area, can you see I’m shining just for thee No way out, no way in Gray area, here I come, Gray area there I was Gray area here I am… *thump*

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Desolation – Fumiaki Kawasuzuki The sound of peace infiltrated into my ears and started to terrorize my inner world of fantasy (also known as ‘dream’). By the time the sound punctured through one ear to the other, the day had already started.

My lazy brain started to activate, though my eyes were forced shut. Even if I opened my eyes for milliseconds, I had to accept that today is Sunday morning. I still couldn’t comprehend why there was no sound of “that” screaming; oh I mean Emilia, my baby sister. Oh, actually, my parents’ daughter to be exact. I drag myself out of my cozy bed, and walk down the stairs.

Great. No one’s home. Alone again.

I didn’t ask for this.

I was only ten when I saw mom and dad hugging each other with their eyes filled with tears of jubilation on their faces… secretly… at midnight. I started to tip toe towards my parent’s conversation. It was not my will. It was my curiosity.

“Henry! I never thought this day would come! I thought it was impossible since last time we tried!”

“Me too honey! I can’t believe we finally ….”

I stopped listening. All the words my parents said were going through one ear to another. I tried to listen to my parent’s discussion, but it was too boring. I was never a fan of romantic stuff, so it was obvious that I couldn’t understand it’s language either.

Their hands were grasping each other’s, as if they weren’t going to let them go. Tears barely drifted upon my father’s tired-looking eyes, but the ones that did were extremely precious. On the other hand, tears were dramatically plummeting down my mother’s eyes. The only comparison between my mother’s tears and the Jog falls - one of the strongest waterfall in the world - was that one had an emotion. Overjoyed to be exact.

I never saw them this happy. The only time I saw something like this was when I won my first soccer trophy. Yes, I was a young soccer player who dreamt of becoming the greatest. Well, I was…

Something was not right. I cautiously walked towards them, eager to ask the most regrettable question I ever asked in my life.

“Mom, dad? Why are you so happy today?”

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“We are going to have a baby, Jack!!!”

In the beginning, I was actually happy to hear that I was going to have a baby sister. Everything was perfect. Every day was going to be so fun!! …

At least that’s what I thought; little did I know that my baby sister - ‘parents’ favourite’ - was going to ruin my life.

September 14th was my birthday. Well it was…

I woke up very early back then, expecting presents and surprises from my parents. The only thing I saw was air. What a great present it was. Nobody was in the house as doubt and confusion concealed my birthday morning. I wore my favourite clothes and went outside, searching for clues to where my parents went. In the end, there was nothing.

I slowly walked up the stairs to my room with a weird emotion that I never felt before.

Loneliness. I lay on my bed, tears started to drift upon my eyes as I lost hope of finding my parents. Then, I heard a small creak from the entrance of my house. I quickly wiped my tears and dashed through my room. Finally, they were here. I saw my dad and my mum, smiling with joy.

“Welcome home da~” *Scream* I heard a loud scream from some other figure. I noticed my father holding something. It was her. My baby sister.

“Dad do you know what day is it today?”

“Sorry Jack, we are busy right now.”

The words that came out of my father pierced through my heart as I felt nothing for the whole day. Well, for MY BIRTHDAY! I was just stunned and speechless. Something was wrong.

Two years have passed from that incident as the situation didn’t get any better.

In that evening, I was missioned to take care of Emilia when my parents were busy booking tickets for our vacation. Wait no, come to think of it, her’s in exact. I was going to sleep and leave Emilia to play with her creepy dolls. I still can’t comprehend why babies like those frightening toy. The moment I was going to sleep, Emilia was biting the remote control for the tv.

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I immediately took action, because I didn’t want my one and only little sister to get injured.

First, I asked her nicely - expecting her not to understand - to give the remote back. Of course she refused. The second time, I asked her to trade one of her doll for the remote control.

Obviously she refused again. The third time… I took it by force. By the time I noticed that I possessed the remote control, she started to … Cry. My parents sprinted towards the baby as if it was the end of the world. They calmed Emilia first then stared at me. My parents thought of the situation was, Emilia crying and me holding the remote control. It was obvious who was the ‘bad guy’.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING JACK? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF EMILIA, NOT WATCH TV!” “But I~” “THERE IS NO BUT! YOU ARE GROUNDED FOR A MONTH!” That was it. I couldn’t resist the ignorance and pain that my parents were giving me. I stepped out of my bubble - patience in exact - and screamed at my parents for the first time in my life.

“SHUT UP! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS IN EMILIA’S SIDE? DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT ME? AM I NOT YOUR CHILD?” And that is when the bomb dropped.

“NO YOU ARE NOT! YOU ARE NOT OUR CHILD. YOU ARE ADOPTED! My mother immediately regretted the confession but it was too late.

Numerous emotions blasted through my heart. Judging by how speechless and traumatized I was, it wasn’t the good ones. Devastation gradually devoured my whole body, as each second lead to great agony. The word ‘adopted’ kept echoing through my head- it severed my mentality.

I should have known this was coming. My life was too good. I was such an imbecile not to realize that this was the truth. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. I wish I was never born.

All I wanted was love from my parents, just like the old days…

Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes… Just be an illusion.

I wanted to run as far and as fast as I could because the past was never coming back. It had fallen off the face of the universe and it was never coming back…

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My world had changed to gray.

Did I really deserve this?

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The Flicker of Light – Ahyoung Seo You’ve seen or had those light stands that can be switched on and off, right? You’ve probably seen how dark it gets without them. You’ve probably seen how easy it is to lose the light in your room (so dark). What if, your hope worked just like that? With a single click, your source to keep you going…is just gone? At least:

That’s how our world worked.

---------------------------------------------------November 5th XX66

Dear Diary, It was a normal day, nice and gloomy. All the faces seemed to be painted with nothing. Just mindless robots here and there, nothing out of the ordinary. Translucent eyes hazy, their hair greasy - obviously not washed, no facial expressions as if their muscles on their faces were dead.

The playground was empty, it seemed lonely without the kids running over it - except that little girl. The bakery looked haunted, the windows covered with dust, barely showing the few loaf of breads that were made. Very dim fire-lit torches smacked into the ground, lighting up the area but not enough to light the hope in us. It had always been this way.

This world was odd. According to my father, all of this was caused by a single man, blinded by loss. That’s what everyone believed.

You see, our hope system was, well, messed up. It could be switched on and off just like a lamp at least, that’s what we have been told for decades.

---------------------------------------------------A little girl walked down the road. Her half-lidded eyes scanning the scenery as her little body shivered at the chilly atmosphere. Her eyes narrowed at a guy that looked lost. She kept on striving forwards.

----------------------------------------------------

November 10th XX66

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Dear Diary, My mentality finally seems to have lost itself. I don’t know if it’s just me or everyone looks so much gloomier. Scratch that, they look gloomier day by day as if their souls have slowly departed away from their bodies. This ‘chaos’ causes everyone to leave… well, everyone. You can’t leave me either; I don’t have anyone else with me anymore. After all, they’re just mindless zombies in my house. You may think that it’s a harsh way to call your family but, they never even cared for me in the first place. They left me. So, you better stay with me, diary.

---------------------------------------------------She jumped into a pretty big pond; the muddy liquid decorated her dress in brown and moldy spots. Looking down on her dirtied clothes, she shrugged it off. No one would care anyway. She looked at the clock, 1:07am. She kept on playing.

Alone.

---------------------------------------------------November 12th XX66

Dear Diary, Guess what? I got an A on my grade paper. They couldn’t care less though. I mean, they used to when my grades were failing. However, when the grades started rising and stayed on as, they stopped caring and moved onto my worthless brother instead.

I still remember.

We always played together, keeping each other entertained. We were so fond of each other. We were inseparable as if bonded by a voodoo doll.

Until, grades became a part of our lives. Our parents were strict. They made us study and learn by ourselves, never even giving us a glance. Our world came crashing down on us when our parents told us that they didn’t really care about us as long as we succeeded. They told us that we should be paying them back because they took care of us. We always thought that they were cruel but that's the way that our society worked and believed in the system.

---------------------------------------------------As the girl strolled around the park, she stepped on something, irregular. She tilted her small head downwards. Blinking, she picked the object up; a book to be more exact. She ran towards a bench. She took a big leap to take a seat with the book still in her tiny hands.

As she looked down, she flipped the pages quickly, only comprehending the pictures inside.

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---------------------------------------------------November 19th XX66

Dear Diary, I don't have much to say today. Not that there ever was anything interesting. I never see that so called brother of mine these days, not that I care much about him. He could disappear for all I care. I wonder if he's even going to his school these days. It's as if he became one with his room.

The room was colorless, just like him. The room was boring, air swirling with coldness as well as it’s emptiness decorating the room. Everything about his room was like him. You know what’s even worse? That thing looks just like my ‘parents’, making me hate him even more.

I was a never look alike to either of my parents. I didn’t mind it at first. At least not until people started comparing.

---------------------------------------------------The girl looked over at a lamp shop. The shop looked a little too dark for a lamp shop. The girl quirked her head sideways, wondering why all the lights were turned off. Her thin legs bringing her towards the ‘bright’ store, she pushed the door open with all her might. When she looked inside no one seemed to be there, a cold breeze of the air conditioner greeting her instead. Since no one was there to kick her out, she decided to have a little eye-shopping moment. She turned the lights on and off. She was startled when she heard footsteps getting louder each second. So she sprinted. She forgot to turn all the lights back off.

---------------------------------------------------November 25th XX66

Dear Diary, Hey, guess what? It’s our 11th anniversary. You and me. Or rather me keeping you for the past 11 years. I’m surprised that you have space left for me to write in. It would be nice if you were an actual person Diary. Someone that’ll listen to my problems without judging me. It’s lame of me for wishing that though. It’s funny how I’ve kept myself to keep writing in you while I gave up trying to interact with that other guy in the house. I guess I gave up because there was no hope in trying anyway, right?

---------------------------------------------------She was panting hard. Her brows knotted. Her face was wet from the sweat dripping down her face. Her hair, all messy and greasy, stuck to her face. She looked down at her hand and then at the piece of bread she stole. She got used to this by now. She was more shocked at how she hasn’t been caught yet. She was just a kid after all. She hid in a shady side 131 | P a g e

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street, a perfect place for crime. Ripping the small bread apart, she feasted on her first meal of the day. Probably her last meal of the day as well.

---------------------------------------------------December 14th XX66

Dear Diary, Hey… I haven’t written since forever haven’t I? Haha. Sorry for losing you. Maybe I should give up after all. Writing this thing. Writing this whole story. I’m sorry. I told you not to leave me but now I’m leaving you. I’m so selfish aren’t I? ---------------------------------------------------The girl was half way through her meal. She was swallowing without chewing it. Bad idea, she didn’t have water. As she gobbled on her food, she heard flapping near her. When her head turned to the source of the noise, she saw a flock of skinny birds. Without hesitation, she tore the bread apart into tiny pieces for the birds. After that, she just stood up and left.

She was too selfless.

---------------------------------------------------December 31th XX66

Dear Diary, ... ... .. .. .

I found a girl. She looks around 12, maybe even younger. I don’t know who she is or where she came from. But, I do know one thing. She needs help, desperately.

---------------------------------------------------132 | P a g e

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You’ve seen or had those light stands that can be switched on and off, right? You’ve probably seen how dark it gets without them. You’ve probably seen how easy it is to lose the light in your room (so dark). What if, your hope worked just like that? With a single click, your source to keep you going…is just gone? At least: That’s how our world worked.

But sometimes it can work the other way too.

Sometimes, it doesn’t matter who it is or what they are. It doesn’t matter who’s helping or who’s not. Hope can spark from the smallest actions.

-------------------------------------------------------

Click.

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The Plain Truth- James Lee A gray area - that’s what I’ve always thought of my life, until one hour ago…

Each word hit like a farmer striking cattle. I couldn’t help myself: tears started flowing out of my eyes, like geysers bursting out of tiny crevices. My whole life. A lie. A scam. All just some sort of sick ploy made to make me think that I was human. That I was real.

What else could I do? I had to flee. I didn’t know where I would go, but I didn’t care where I ended up. Nothing could be worse than the last ten minutes.

“No. WAI--” Too late. I was already out the door and sprinting through the street. Raindrops gushed down onto my perturbed face. My heart felt like bursting into a million, shattered, fragmented slabs. ************************************************** Ever since my birth, confusion has surrounded me. Born in an airplane, adopted by foster families, hundreds of places to call home. There has never been a real answer to any question about me. I didn’t even know my parents. It hurt to acknowledge the fact that I was nameless.

Homeless. I didn’t even have a true family; but I got used to it. At least I had a real life…

The day started off to be quite normal (for my standards). I woke up at 7, splashed water on my face and started my day. Walking down the steep stairs, I heard a booming sizzle-type noise coming from the kitchen.

“Good morning. Eggs for breakfast today!” my foster dad (Max) grinned.

I glanced up from my drowsy ramble and gave him a slight smile as I wandered to the couch. As I looked out the window, I noticed the huge masses of snow outside.

Would school be cancelled? Will I have to march through the snow?

“Tons of snow today, seems like school still isn’t cancelled though.” Max uttered.

I let out a deep sigh. I grabbed my jacket, rambling to myself. Latched on my backpack and opened the door.

I waddled outside, shivering in the ice cold weather; the snow pouring down like lightning from the clouds. Normally, walks to school were tranquil and calming but this time, it couldn’t be further away from calming. I firmly grasped onto my hat, marching through the hideous weather. The thunderous hail was fierce and hit my fluffy jacket like bullets, raining down onto me. I could barely even look up. I was scampering across from street to street when suddenly…

OOF! I was swatted from behind and knocked down harshly. Probably from one of those crazy bikers that deliver mail as soon as the sun rises… ************************************************** Where am I? What is this place?

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Thoughts flooded my head as I mindlessly gazed up. My back felt as if it had been crushed; I couldn’t feel my legs and my head was still trying to recover from the fall. I had never felt any type of pain this severe in my whole life. Trying to locate where I was, I squinted left, right, up and down. It was all darkness.

“Hello?” I hollered.

Nothing… Not a single sound could be heard in response yet I felt something, someone there.

“Hello?” I bellowed yet again, “I know you’re there!”

Still nothing, yet the notion was still there.

“Who are you?” something demanded in quite an urgent tone.

“Will.” I stammered.

“Will who?” it said, in the same tone as before.

“I-I don’t know…” I replied, stuttering on each word.

It was the truth. No one knew who I was or who my parents were. It was knowledge that I would die for.

“I’m Rodney,” he breathed.

He lit up a torch, revealing himself. It was a middle-aged man with a short grey beard and messy black hair. He had some bulk on him yet wasn’t overweight.

“Once you’re done staring you can follow me.” he sighed.

Determined, I examined him even further.

“Why should I follow you- Rodney?”

He wavered, as if having a heated debate with his own conscience whether he should tell me something or not.

“Will. I knew your family and their business quite well,” he hesitantly muttered.

“What?!” I exclaimed (louder than I had meant to).

“Follow me if you really want to know more.”

Without a second thought, I sprinted up next to him and shadowed him down the narrow street. ************************************* It seemed like it had been hours and hours just walking through the inky, damp night. I couldn’t see anything as I looked up. Just the grainy dirt I was stomping on and the starry, moonlit sky above; lighting up my path. “Should I have followed him? What if he was lying? Where am I even going?” I pondered.

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“Here, to the left.” Rodney instructed, interrupting my thoughts as he strolled through towards the light.

It was a warm, cozy environment. A tiny wooden door opening up to a site. It was small yet neat camp with candles and lamps lighting it. The furniture was very simple, mostly made out of wood and light materials.

“Take a seat, I think we have some things to talk about,” he commanded.

I hesitated, wondering whether it was a good idea or if I had just gotten myself deep into trouble. After a minute of pondering, I decided that I had nothing to lose. I sat down.

---------------------------------------------This is when everything happened. My old life disappeared and my new life began.

---------------------------------------------“Will, right?” he queried.

“Yes,” I mumbled to the ground.

He stared blankly at the wall for a minute, muttering to himself constantly.

“Okay Will,” he uttered, “I’m going to give you the plain truth.”

I fidgeted around, budging in my my chair. What did he mean? What did he even know about me?

“I knew your mother very well,” he began; interrupting my thoughts, “she was probably the strongest person I knew.”

I leaned in closer, concentrating on each and every word he spoke.

“Her name was Sarah.” he softly spoke.

At this point, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to know.

“Where is she now?” I bellowed in almost a demanding tone. Almost.

He seemed untouched, calmly glancing out the window. It was as if he had been regretting this moment for a long time.

He finally looked up to me, staring intently.

“Will, I’m going to give you what I know but you may not like it.” he regarded.

I nodded violently, ready to confront anything to find out the real information. The truth.

“She was part of an experiment by the government,” he whispered, “It was trying to create the perfect type of soldier for wars and fights.”

I stood absolutely still, like a rock in a mountain.

“What did she have to do with it?” I blurted out.

Again, he calmly looked straight at me, as if analysing me.

“Sarah was the head scientist. She found out fascinating things about the human body and how its genes worked. There was no one like her.” he responded.

He took a deep breath and continued, “Everything was progressing well. They had state of the art technology for everything. But once they started experimenting on living things, things changed.”

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The delicate silence arrived again, swarming the room. I didn’t know how to react; what did he mean by “living” experiments. As I was starting to wander off in my thoughts again, he resumed.

“You were the first.” he spoke softly but powerfully. Each word hitting me like bullets. Wideeyed, I looked up.

“What?” I uttered.

Even though I knew what he meant, I had to clarify it.

“It’s true.” he calmly replied.

Denying it, I shook my head furiously whilst turning my back against the wall. It couldn’t be true. There was no way.

But deep inside, I knew it was true. It was the only way to explain my birth, my ‘parents’, my past… I had to learn more.

“What?” I spat; disgusted with myself.

“Sarah took you in after she saw what they did with you. She treated you like you were her own.” Rodney replied, enunciating every word.

“What,” I whispered, more to myself than to him,” I’m not… human?”

He avoided eye-contact, muttering to himself.

“Yes,” he said, quivering his lip as he spoke,” it’s true. And we need you to join our organisation...”

Each word hit like a farmer striking cattle. I couldn’t help myself, tears started flowing out of my eyes, like geysers bursting out of tiny crevices. My whole life. A lie. A scam. All just some sort of sick ploy made to make me think that I was human. That I was real. And now the people that made me. They need me again? What are they? Were they terrorists?

What else could I do? I had to flee. I didn’t know where I would go, but I didn’t care where I ended up. Nothing could be worse than the last ten minutes I just went through.

“No. WAI--” Too late. I was already out the door and sprinting through the street. Raindrops gushed down onto my perturbed face. My heart felt like bursting into a million, shattered, fragmented slabs.

But- was it actually a heart? Or just another mechanism functioning in the artificial body of mine. Too many questions to ask. Yet no clear answers. I just had to get away from everything and clear my head. Behind me, I could clearly hear Rodney shouting after me. I didn’t care anymore; I didn’t know what to do anymore.

I knew I couldn’t continue with my life like nothing happened.

But I didn’t know anything about the ‘organisation’ that Rodney talked about either.

Too many choices, no right answer.

I had no clue what to do.

I was stuck.

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Stuck in an area that was totally gray.

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Spinning Jenny – Georgie Clare During the industrial revolution, children were often brutally maimed when they had to clean out machinery in the mills. The factory owners would refuse to switch the engines off and stop production so children had to clean the machinery while it was still operating and they would lose limbs in because of it. ********

All the memories come flooding back. I close my eyes and try to pretend it never happened. I open my eyes and I’m in agony- my mother will never forgive me. I dread going home and seeing the malnourished, ghosts of children that I call my younger siblings.

I dread seeing their eyes bulging out of their thin, sallow faces when I tell them there won’t be anything to eat tonight... ******************************** I try to squeeze my blistered hand through the cracks into the roaring jaw. Into the pits of Tartarus. The deadly creature goes by this name: “The Spinning Jenny”.

I can hear the deafening roar of the lion, waiting for its next meal. I can almost hear the sound of it licking its lips, washing away the saltiness from its last meal, and the sad part is, the stench is getting stronger and stronger. As I get closer, I can almost smell the taste of raw meat, from the lion’s last meal.

ROAR! I slowly take a step backwards. I turn to whisper to my friend, “I hate the master, with every fiber of my being, how dare he be so vindictive and cruel.” I ramble on - listing how much I hate him, but then, just 1 minute too late - the stench hits me...

What have I done?! Why do I have to be so stupid!

I can feel my insides curling inside of me and my blood turns cold.

My friend doesn’t smell of drink. I slowly turn around…

“HOW DARE YOU!” “YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE.. LITtle..Little.. little… little… little..”

No words came out. I had a hundred words to say back at him, however, something was telling me not to say anything….

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If the machine was a blood- thirsty lion, then the Master was a fire- breathing dragon. A vindictive, children-eating, blood curdling dragon.

I feel the stares of all my fellow workers on my soon to become purple back: some stares of awe, some of fear, some of laughter, and some of disgust.

I curtsey to the Dragon, meekly bowing my head and murmuring my apologies. I hope he will forgive me? No such luck...

The dragon reaches down to unleash his secret weapon, His leather belt.

Usually I would be struck down by fear, but today I am filled with courage.

If I’m going to get beaten anyway, I might as well speak my mind.

“I’m just scared of the machine… - sir, “I hastily add.

“Scared!” the dragon scoffs. “Do you want your daddy to come rescue you - he patronises.

“MY FATHER IS DEAD!” I interrupt. How DARE he!

I try a different approach - Flattery “I was just wondering if you could turn it off - sir” “You see, when I’m older, I want to look like you (limbs intact). I want to be able to be as beautiful as you, as handsome as you, as… as…. dragon like …. POwerful as you!”

I can feel the breeze from the belt before it hits me. I have no fat or muscle on my back to help deflect the belt so a pain worse than I have ever felt hits me. The master repeats this process at least 10 times - before his arm gets too tired. The pain is unimaginable. How am I still alive?

I can feel the blood trickling down my neck and onto my bruised back. I choke back my tears and wince - but I don’t let the dragon see me.

The master gives me just under a minute before I have to clean out the machine. ‘A break given from the kindness of his heart’. Does he even own a heart?? I highly doubt it.

When I reach to clean the moving machine, I pray I won't get any more fingers caught. I need at least 2 fingers to do my job and I desperately need to be working. My younger brothers, sisters and pregnant mother are relying on me.

7 months ago, since my older brothers, sisters and dear father, all died in the mining accident - I have become my family’s only source of income. My pay is not enough to keep my family supported, my younger brother used to work as a chimney sweep - before the fire got lit underneath him. I’ve had many family members die, but his death was the most tragic.

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My hand is still a bit shaky from the whipping and I feel a tickle creeping up my throat- I pray that I don’t cough- the movement of the cough will surely amputate my hand. I try squeeze my hand out of the machine but it appears to be stuck- my hand must have grown since my last cleaning! I try again to prise them out of the moving machine- nothing. I beg the master to turn off the machine but he just lowers my pay rise and threatens me with another beating. I guess my family won't have anything to eat tonight.

One, two, three… PULL! All I hear are screams around me, ringing in my ears. All I can feel is a throbbing pain in the stump of my hand. I look down and I’m standing in a glistening pool of blood. MY blood. I see an emaciated face looking up at me. Was this really what I looked like?

Were my eyes really that lifeless, my features really so gaunt? The waterfall of blood is oozing out of my severed wrist and I think I’m going to faint. Suddenly, my world crumbles around me and everything goes Black.

I suddenly jerk awake. Where am I? I look down to lift my hand to brush a wisp of my hair out of my face. I don’t see my grim, hardened, calloused and worn fingers anymore. All that is left is a raw, bleeding lump on the end on my wrist…

Despite all the pain, I close my eyes and try to pretend it never happened. I open my eyes and I’m in agony- my mother will never forgive me. First I bring shame on my family for talking back to the master, and now I have another limb chopped off.

I dread going home and seeing my malnourished, ghosts of children that I call my younger siblings.

I dread seeing their eyes bulging out of their thin, sallow faces when I tell them there won’t be anything to eat tonight... or maybe ever again.

I suddenly realise it’s getting dark. I should probably run home, as if I don’t arrive soon my mother will think I’m dead. Maybe it would be for the best if I didn't return. My family could make up a story that I was sent away to work as a maid of all work for an aristocrat? It would be better than the shameful truth.

I push that thought out of my head as I trudge, injured, through the bleak forest of grey...

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The Suicide Secret - Ariana Rodriguez Reed Bing!

The sound bounces around the room and releases a disturbingly bright light which instantaneously cuts through the once eerie room. I lay in bed, wondering who could possibly be messaging me this early in the morning. Reluctantly, I reach to pick up the suddenly illuminated box and glance at the time.

3:48 AM! “She’d better have a good reason to be sending a message now. Honestly, if this is a streak-” I mumble aimlessly.

Routinely, I opened up my messages; my contacts automatically roll onto the screen as I open up the newly sent message. Ares’ name hovers on the screen accompanied by a particularly unflattering profile picture, which I take full credit for. I squint at the small block words splattered across the screen, “Help.”

My sleepy daze hangs over me like a curtain so I adjust my phone and inspect the message again- “Help.”

The words look the same; they are the same. A sudden rush of adrenaline pulses through my body- thousands of thoughts and questions bombard my brain- like a line of missiles firing off, one after the other. My fingers dance frantically over the keyboard, as I send back a simple “Are you O.K?” Centuries seem to pass, as I sit in my motionless room; a peaceful hum of sounds dance around me, as trees sway gently in the summer night breeze and stars glimmer playfully in the distance.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates through my clenched hand; in a blink of an eye I’ve opened the message and read, and reread it.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

The words reignite the overload of emotions. What could she possibly mean? Without, a second thought I click on her number and listen to the repetitive ringing resonate through the house. I wait, and the mesmerizing rhythm continues, and then again.

I’m just about to cancel the call, but the ringing stops and I hear her pick up.

Silence.

What do I do now?

An unnerving quietness flows through the phone.

“Ares? You alright?” …

More silence.

“I’m… I’m going… to kill myself.”

A feeble voice whispers, nearly inaudible, but I heard her. Quite clearly.

“Ares! What’s wrong?” my head pounds vigorously.

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“Don’t… tell ANYONE.” she demands and then the hazy silence of the night hits me again as she hangs up.

Shock paralyzes me in bed; the once comfortable warmth of the night now seems to be suffocating me gradually. A new dilemma- this new problem, sends my world spiraling into a frenetic turmoil. Options filter through my brain. If I tell someone- tell anyone, I would be abandoning her, losing her trust and getting her into unimaginable amounts of trouble too. I can imagine, just too clearly the shame, the hurt... how her family would torment her.

On the other hand, if I don’t tell someone- tell anyone- she might really go through with...with...it. I can’t even think of that word...

But how? How could I tell anyone?

Who would I tell?

How would they react?

The endless amount of possibilities strangles me, their weight encircles and presses down on me. Memories of Ares play through my head like a film; her bright smile, playful grin and endless jokes, but behind them all, she must have been hiding, hiding so much pain. How could I have never noticed?

I remember the first time we met, the walls were a vibrant mash of colours and it must have been our first day of kindergarten. We both clung onto the safety of our parents’ feet, but eventually our infinite love for lego bricks bonded us together. Since then, we had been inseparable, but that warm memory fades away as I clap back to our bitter reality.

Finally, my mind is clear. I climb out of my bed and tip toe cautiously towards my parent’s room. Each creak and crack in the floor sends a new thought into my head “Is this really what I should do?”, “What if she hates me forever?”. My heart palpitates through my chest and I'm surprised I can’t see it beating vigorously in front of me. Tornados of emotions threaten to demolish everything in sight.

I stand over my Mom as her peaceful face lifts up and down harmonizing with her soothing breathing. The world seems to pause as I gently tap her on the shoulder, my mind races and scrambles for words. How would I explain this?

Leisurely, her hazel eyes fluttered open: “Ares is going to kill herself.”

As I mutter this into the darkness of the night, an immense weight is lifted off of me...

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Liar - Jun Kim 12/24/2018 New Jersey Police Department knock knock “Who’s there?”

“It’s Jack. There’s a girl who’s begging to see you, Chief Gin.” “A girl? Just send her away. As you know, I’ve got my hands full with the case that I’ve been given.”

“The thing is, I’ve been telling her that for the last five hours, but she says that she must see you, no matter what.” “…Alright, come in.”

As the door opened, what Gin immediately laid his eyes on wasn’t the police officer under his command, but rather a girl who looked about 14- a girl that could have been described as ‘completely white’. She possessed long, white hair and pale, white skin and wore a burgundy blouse with a brooch, and a white skirt.

————— 12/15/2018 Somewhere in New Jersey In front of the young male, was an accident.

As he stared at the corpse right in front of him, his mind went completely blank.

He had just killed someone.

He had taken a human life.

He had just cut a living being in half.

Overwhelmed by guilt, William Winston fell on his knees, and cried.

————— “So, Eve, you’re saying that your brother, William is the one behind the recent serial killings?”

“Yes.” Despite the young girl spouting what, to at least Gin, sounded like nonsense, she replied with such seriousness that could be seen both in her expression and tone of voice. It was perhaps what you could call Eve’s stubbornness that had caught Gin’s attention and caused him to listen to what Eve had to say.

“I am sure you are aware, but all of the corpses from this case has their body cut in half, with no other sign of injury. Your brother however, is only 18 years old, and doesn’t have a body with enough muscle to even have the ability to do such a thing.”

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A GRAY AREA For a moment, right after Gin asked this question, there was silence.

As I thought, this girl was just playing a little prank.

Gin thought, as he tried to think of how the girl in front of him would respond. What she responded with however, was something that Gin could never have imagined coming from a girl that had such a refined image and atmosphere around her.

“My brother- William, has what I guess you could call a special power.”

Without flinching, the girl continued to spout what seemed like ridiculousness, “Without actually making physical contact, he is able to cut anything.”

After hearing her statement, all Gin could do was sigh.

“Look. I don’t know what kind of joke or prank you’re trying to pull, but,” As Gin continued, Eve faced the palm of her right hand and faced it towards the ceiling.

“I have no time to waste with-“ From her hand, rose what appeared to be a dark, black smoke.

A smoke, darker than dark, darker than black.

Dark, darker, yet darker.

No matter who looked at it, they would subconsciously realize that it- or rather, Eve herself, wasn’t of this world.

As the smoke swirled around the top of Eve’s palm, it solidified into a sphere the size of a baseball.

“I guess this is what you could call my special power. It’s much more useless than William’s though, all I can do is make a ball this size.” “…”

Gin was speechless. In front of him, was a young girl that was almost half the size of him, who somehow managed to make a ball out of thin air. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Clearly, he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Alright then.”

Gin was lost on what to do.

Although what was in front of him was in fact something not of this world, Gin still thought of her as a little girl.

“You know, if William- your brother, is arrested, he’ll probably be given the death penalty.

Knowing this, do you still want to-” “I know that already!” She cried, “I’ve thought about it for the last few days, and I think…

I think that even if that person is my brother, a serial killer shouldn’t be forgiven.”

Despite her emotional statement, followed with a slight amount of tears, Gin felt a gut feeling- as if Eve was lying, as if all of this was just an act of mischief to her.

But, there hasn’t been any leads to the perpetrator or clues to go on. If what Eve said about William is true, then she could become a huge help to the investigation, and could even be able to lure him out.

“I’m going to have you tell me everything you know about William Winston.”

——— “Although I said that William can cut through anything, that’s not quite true. His power has what you could call a limit.”

“Limit?” Gin raised an eyebrow, as what he was about to hear could possibly help his capture of William.

“He can’t cut through anything that isn’t ‘human’. Basically, skin, blood and fabric belonging to clothes is okay, but a shield isn’t.”

“A shield, huh...”

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A GRAY AREA “In addition to that, William also has to be able to see what he’s cutting.”

“So if we hide behind a shield, we’re invulnerable to his power? That’s surprisingly simpler than I expected.”

Although it felt anticlimactic, Gin was relieved that he would be able to capture William so simply. However, he came to a realization that, I still have no clues or leads to find him.

Eve has helped on how to deal with William if we do find him, but the investigation itself hasn’t actually progressed.

Gin let out a deep sigh, and looked down. At the sight of this, Eve smiled.

“You know; I could help you find my brother if you want.”

——— 12/15/2018 Somewhere in New Jersey William Winston was a murderer.

However, he was not a serial killer.

After losing control of his power to cut, he had cut his friend’s body in half.

Consequently, he fled and never contacted anyone, while constantly being crushed by guilt.

He had wanted to contact someone, like his friends or little sister, but had decided not to, as he came to the conclusion that they would be disgusted to know that someone in their family had killed someone, he himself would feel even more disgusted.

However, when the serial killings began, and were labeled to be committed by the same person who killed William’s best friend, William’s mental state began to get even worse.

Until one day, he had received a call from his little sister. His previous resolve to not contact his family vanished, and he picked up the phone. Despite the fact that his sister was one of the only people who knew of his power, meaning that she was the most likely to- or rather, the only one who would suspect him of the serial killings, he jumped at the fact that he could talk to someone; that he could talk to his sister.

“William?” “....”

“The serial killings right now,” William gulped. “You’re not the one behind them, are you?” “!”

“Can you meet up tonight at 12 in Central Park?”

“F.. for what?”

“Let’s run away together.”

At this one statement, William felt like his entire being was saved.

Someone in this world, was still worried about him, and was willing to throw their current life away for his sake.

He cried, perhaps harder than when he had killed his best friend.

At this moment, he decided that he would dedicate his life to his only little sister, Eve Winston.

(12/16/2018 Central Park) And yet, why?

Why is it that instead of Eve, there are police officers here?

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A GRAY AREA “William Winston, you are under arrest as the suspect of the recent serial killings!”

“H-huh?”

“Slowly lie down and put your hands where we can see them!”

These guys... they have riot shields for some reason… could it be a countermeasure to my power?

N-no, there’s no way. No one apart from Eve knows that!

BANG! At the sound of one gunshot, all of William’s attention was redirected towards the officer who had shot his gun.

Before William could even consider the moral gray area, between somehow cutting the people before him, or giving up his life, he was just filled with one, single, thought.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.

As his mind was filled with rejection towards death, the only thing William tried to do was to cut the shields that the police officers held.

But, it seemed to have no effect.

No matter how many times he tried, the shields were standing.

That was, until“AHHHHH!” “Wh-what the… Chief Gin’s entire body, as well as his riot shield… It’s been cut into half!”

William had evolved his ability to cut.

Overcome with fear, he had taken his special power to another level, through sheer force.

What followed this, was the last of what William could have imagined doing just a few hours ago.

Every police officer that had surrounded him, was now cut in half.

He was no longer what he previously was, but he was neither what other people claimed he was.

Not a murderer or a serial killer, but instead a mass murderer.

Despite how devastating the situation was however, William still had a hope somewhere in his heart.

It was from the warmth that was just recently given by his sister.

However, even that small feeling of hope was crushed, when he heard, “Seriously? You killed everyone one of them?” It was a familiar, feminine voice.

As William turned around, his eyes widened.

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A GRAY AREA What he saw a girl who looked about 14, that could have been described as ‘completely white’.

A girl that possessed long, white hair, and pale, white skin, and wore a burgundy blouse with a brooch, and a white skirt.

——— As Jack Miller opened his eyes, he tried to recall what had just happened.

If I remember correctly, I was a part of arresting William Winston, and Chief Gin’s body had been just cut in half. D-did I really faint from just that?

When he lifted himself up, he saw every one of his colleagues, as well as his chief’s body cut in half, and Eve Winston standing in front of William Winston.

The young girl simply lifted her right arm up, and a black smoke rose, and solidified as a gigantic, extremely sharp blade, larger than the girl herself.

Wh-what the….

As Eve sliced William with her blade, Wasn’t Eve Winston only able to make a ball with her power?

His entire body was cut in half.

“Oh, William didn’t kill everyone?”

Right when Jack realised that the person Eve was talking to and walking towards was, all of his emotions that were built up; all of his nervousness, anger, sadness, and disgust towards the young girl, all converted into fear.

Fear of the young girl that stood before him.

“Man, I really was surprised when William cut through the shields though! Who could’ve thought that fear could cause evolution! Oh, but I guess you’re proof that it wasn’t perfect.”

“A...a…...a….” Jack was unable to raise his voice, or in fact, speak properly at all.

Frantically, the police officer looked through his jacket until he found his handgun.

But even after shooting her at point-blank range, Jack knew before Eve did anything, that he wouldn’t hit her. It wasn’t a matter of not believing in his own abilities, it was what you could call a subconscious realisation, that a mere gun wouldn’t be able to kill the monster that stood before him.

While Eve formed another black smoke from her left hand, swallowing the bullet, she casually continued her conversation.

“Well, this was pretty interesting in its own way I guess.”

As Eve slowly raised her right hand, all Jack could do was wait and watch for his inevitable end, until Eve swung her blade.

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Secrets - Matthew Alemania Garen: B E E P! B E E P! Sunlight struck my eyes through the blinds of the window. Still half asleep, I blindly reached for my alarm to put it on snooze.

“Five more minutes,” I thought to myself.

As I was about to curl back up into my blankets, I felt something jump on my bed.

Guessing by the slobber on my face, it was my dog, Snow. His rapid panting suggested that he wanted me to take him for a walk. I reluctantly stood up from bed and grabbed a pair of black jogging pants that was hanging off my bed. Snow jumped up and down on my leg; since he was a Japanese Spitz, he wasn’t that big.

I walked down my grimy apartment and take a quick peep into my daughter’s room. She was still asleep on her desk; head buried in her math textbook. I grabbed Snow’s leash and opened the door. Snow was a very energetic little puppy, though not very friendly to other dogs. He was the best dog I could ever ask for. He immediately bolted out the door, jolting me along with him.

“H-heyyy, calm down.” I told him, knowing fully that he probably didn’t understand me judging by how fast he ran.

I quickly picked up the mail on the ground; The cool air brushed against my fingers as I picked up the white envelope. In big bold words it declared, “EVICTION NOTICE 14 DAYS”.

I’m going to be honest…

I saw it coming.

Ever since she died, I’ve been close to flat broke with barely enough money to buy food for us and food for Snow.

Once I got back from my walk with Snow, Rosa was already up making pancakes just like her Mother used to make them…

“Hey, Dad! How many pancakes do ya want?” Rosa yelled as the aroma of the pancakes wafted into my nose.

“I don’t mind, Dear!” I replied with equal volume.

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Before I could even take off the leash, Snow dashed for the kitchen. Rosa’s dead-like eyes immediately brightened with delight.

“Awwww Good Morning wittle Snow!” Rosa spoke as if she was talking to a baby.

Snow ran around Rosa excitedly and occasionally did the bowing-thing that dogs do when they want to play. To Rosa, Snow meant everything, ever since her Mother left her for that rich snob, Snow comforted her.

“Good morning to you too, Rosa!” I said as I gave her a big bear hug, “I’m gonna be gone the whole day today, I’ll be home at about 7pm, so eat dinner without me!”

“Oh...Okay Dad, just be careful this time okay?” Rosa says as she buried her head in my chest.

Rosa:

Once Dad left, I decided to clean up a bit since Snow started to shed his fur again, and since his fur is white, you can see it from a mile away. I walked to Dad’s room while Snow trailed behind me. The table that sat next to the bed, was littered with unwashed clothes and underwear. I decided to start cleaning there, I lifted the hamper and held it between my left arm, then proceeded to pick up the clothes. An opened envelope hid under the litter on the table. The first word said it all.

I knew it.

That’s why Dad is doing more and more boxing matches recently!

“I have to help him somehow. But I only get paid $11 at the local Walmart. I’d need at least 5 weeks to pay this off.” I mutter to myself, “and I can’t exactly work full-time since I have midterms coming up.”

Tutoring? Or maybe I could baby-sit? Before I knew it, I was lying on the bed, cuddling Snow. I have to do something about this.

Garen:

The sound of the bell rang, signaling the start of the match. My opponent was clearly in a better shape than I was: washboard abdominals and two big guns. He and I walked to the middle of the stage, in a defensive position.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Here, we have the ‘Red Bull’!” The announcer gestured to the buff man in front of me.

“This will be quick.” He taunted by showing off his muscles.

“And on the other side, we have Garen!” The announcer screamed.

The bell rang once more, this time louder. The ‘Red Bull’ immediately threw a punch. I barely dodged it. But immediately after I evaded him, he had another blow waiting for me the next second. It hurt. I backed off a little bit to try to think of a way to somehow land a punch.

“Running away already?” He projected with bravado.

He was trying to intimidate me. That wouldn’t happen. I ran straight at him. Predicting a punch at me, I leapt into the air and gave him a swift kick to the head, which made him stumble. I 151 | P a g e

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quickly took advantage of the opening and I attacked him with a low sweep. But nothing happened…

“Did you really think that would work?” He scoffed.

Before I knew it, the last thing I saw was a foot to the face. I could hear the faint ringing of the boxing match.

I was out cold.

Rosa: November 18, 2001 I was scared. The monsters, they woke me up. I ran into my parents’ room in terror. I jumped in between them.

“Mommy, Daddy, I’m scared.” I whimpered.

“Darling.... It’ll be alright, I’m here.” Her soothing voice calmed my tears.

“Nothing will happen bad to you while we are here.” Daddy embraced my shivering body and wiped away my tears.

“Somewhere… over the rainbow, way up high… and the dreams that you dreamed of...once in a lullaby.” Mommy sang softly, “Go to sleep now, honey.”

Present I woke up, 6 am in the morning. My eyes wet with tears, my brown hair was blocking my swollen red eyes.

Why aren’t you here for me now?

Why not... now…

“Rosaaa! Time to wake up!” Dad said as he knocked on the door.

“Y-yes! I-I’m coming!” I croaked as I dried my tears.

I opened the door and immediately, my dad noticed my puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes that were caused by tears. With a worried look, he gave me an embrace.

“Are you okay? Did anything bad happen?” My Dad asked worriedly as he gripped on my shoulders.

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“I KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING DAD!” I shoved him away from me, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THE BILLS!” “Honey I was gonna-” “I-I thought... a-after Mom died. . . we would go through the problems together.” I stuttered, defeated.

“Mahal kita, anak… (I love you, my child).” My Dad said as he gave me a hug, “I’m sorry. This time no more secrets.”

“Thank you, Ama (Father).” I felt as if the world’s weight has been lifted off my shoulders, “Please, from now on no more secrets.”

“No more secrets”, he agreed.

Garen: “No more secrets” But what she doesn’t know, is that…

I keep it from her to protect her from the reality of my life.

Because I love her, I protect her and support her.

Because I love her, there will always be secrets.

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Red fate -Dongchae Shin Disclaimer: This story contains graphic violence and content that may distress sensitive readers. It is not suitable for a younger audience.

–––When I came to, I was in a burning field.

The familiar town that I once knew, had turned into a bloody burning battlefield.

That didn't last very long though…

After all the fire died down, the only thing left to do was for another fire to ariseI so was thirsty. The heat and the smoke of the fire must have gotten to me, but partially, it was my thirst for life. I walked to the lake hoping to get some water to drink.

At that moment, there in the red coloured lake, I saw... myself...

...

The nightmare started when I got that pain in my heart...

I heard the same old alarm I had for years now, ringing, waking me up.

"Guh–––!!!!!”

My body jerked in tremendous pain.

For a few days now, this pain in my heart had increased, little by little. It felt as though a hand was gripping my heart, squeezing it, continuously, until I screamed with pain. It wasn't like there was a scar or a wound, honestly, there wasn't even a scar...

Although, I thought about going to see a doctor, I never actually did, thinking that it would disappear soon. But I believe that this was the perfect time to do so.

I got on my old, almost broken, car. As I drove to the hospital, the pain in my heart increased more and more. At that moment I saw a person walking in front me. I had to stop. STOP! Except I didn’t, did I? –––––––––––––– I woke up to the familiar ceiling of my bedroom. The pain that I had been feeling in the morning had stopped. Filled with unease, I walked outside. As soon as I walked out of the door I remembered.

I killed someone.

As I recited those words, I felt more calm and relaxed; life was given back to me.

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A GRAY AREA Day after day, the pain returned little by little. I wondered what the problem with this pain was. Still no scar has shown up, but it felt as though something was gripping my heart squeezing harder and harder. When I went to the doctor, they mentioned that there were no problems with my body at all, healthy and fine. However, this pain was real; I felt it on me.

Crash The moment flashed by again… it seems as though every time I think about how to relieve the pain, the moment of the accident flashes over and over again. It felt as though my body was instinctively trying to tell me to kill to avoid this pain. I had to try it out. The speed that this pain was processing, would kill me soon. I was scared to die.

I walked outside, holding a knife while wearing a black balaclava. I ran as fast as possible toward the closest convenience store. Kill. Kill. Kill. Nothing else was in my mind, expect surviving. Even if it seems absurd, at least there was a small chance of it being a possibility.

I walked in the store.

“Welcome! Is there anything you need?”

I continued walking…

Silently, one step, then the next.

“Sir? Is anything wrong?”

I slowly reach into my pocket, wordlessly, getting anxious at the cold atmosphere.

“Sir! Are you al--------” “GUH” As the knife met the flesh, he started screaming. My eyes were completely closed. I twisted the blade, continuously, sinking in deeper and deeper, trying to avoid the site. The sticky liquid dripped all over my hand, while it spurted to all over my jacket. The smell of my rusty sink exploded everywhere. Salty, raw and metallic. The screams continued. It was agonized, guttural and husky chokes along with an excruciating roar. However, little by little, as time passed, the unbearable scream started to dial down.

I opened my eyes and looked. There was a crimson liquid that filled the store.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood .Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

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A GRAY AREA Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood.

I sank down to my knees. The scene was hideous. Just watching it was arduous; it was nothing like I have ever seen before in my life. No muscle in my body moved. It was dead silent, like I was 8000 metres underwater, muted and alone. The worker was frozen, down on the ground, with eyes wide open. Not a single breath; not a single sound.

Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. Because I need blood for my pain to stop.

I run as fast as I can to escape the horror which I can’t forget, avoiding everyone.

I run as fast as I can to escape the horror which I can’t forget.

I run as fast as I can to escape the horror.

I run as fast as I can to escape.

I run as fast as I can.

I run.

I run.

I run.

I felt as though I can run forever, Except the pain came back...

The next day, at around 3pm, I went outside again. This time with a gun. It was an old Marlin Model 336 that my granddad use to use. Being near a lot of trees and mountains, hunting was a daily thing which my granddad did. Back then, I never knew it would be used for something like this…

I had thought that a gun would lessen the shock of killing, as for I am not making physical contact with the person whom I was killing.

I stood in the middle of town.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.Bang.

One by one, they fell. I never aimed properly due to my nervousness. Because of this, none of them properly died from the gun, never hitting their vital spots, screaming, helplessly.

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A GRAY AREA Bang.BAng.BANg.BANG. The screams only grew louder. As the vociferous screams continued, I only tried to deafen them with my gun.

The scene was atrocious. Once again I was in front of the crimson liquid. This time it wasn't just one though, there were numerous people; all lying down, sinking on their knees. Their skin and body splattered like grapes. Unlike last time, they were moving. Swarming, screaming, screeching, squealing, shrieking. What was once a normal road was now a cardinal field.

They looked desperate. Although I knew that they could not move, I continued shooting, in despite, hoping the explosion would silence the commotion.

Down on my knees, I continued shooting. I cried in sorrow; a sound filled with melancholy. The scene of the convenience store flashed pasted me again. I wanted to live so much; although the pain was gone, a new pain came up. I was turning psychotic. “ha..ha...hahahaHAHAHHAHAHAHA” I soullessly walked back with laughter filled with no emotions. Just insanity. This whole situation seemed, no, was ludicrous. Did I have to continue this just to live? Is my life worth that much?

At that moment, I started wondering.

“Wait, why would I endure this scene if I could just burn the whole town?”

It was the simplest method. I wasn’t doing the killing myself, nor was I going to see the blood everywhere. The screech of them will not be heard by me. Also it was possible that if I killed a lot of people at once, the pain would stop for a long time, and I could stop killing for a while.

That night, I went to and set fire to every tree, every building, every car, every house, everything.

Running around with empty joy, bucket of oil on one hand, a torch on the other. I traveled for hours on out, burning one by one.

Everything burned.

Blazing, blowing, blistering inferno, slowly by slowly, scorching and consuming everything. It was almost as though it was hungry, looking to consume everything.

It was a beautiful site. But I wasn't amused nor was I elated. The pain in my heart was gone, but something else in my body seemed gone...

The firestorm had died down by the time the sun rose. The tall wall of flame had shortened, and most of the buildings had fallen. The familiar town that I once knew, had turned into a bloody burning battlefield. It was just like the dream I had. Everyone I knew, left in rubles as ashes. No other being left near me.

It felt weird being the only being in the area…

The only one there, Was this a curse?

Definitely.

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A GRAY AREA I survived so I felt I would have to live for the people I killed. But does that mean I have to kill more? I started walking aimlessly, to come to an eventual stop at a lake to take a break.

No one was around me‌ But I had to kill. If I don't kill, I’ll die. I need to kill. I need to live. I need. I NEED. I WANT TO KILL! I so was thirsty. The heat and the smoke of the fire must have gotten to me, but partially, it was my thirst for life. I walked to the lake hoping to get some water to drink.

At that moment, there in the red coloured lake, I saw... myself...

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The Answer Shop – Sofia Masondo I’ve got some questions.

I’ve got answers. What would you like?

I passed the English menu over the counter, smiling that dazzling business smile that my regular customers knew me for. That, and the great advice.

This was standard procedure. He looks at the menu for a bit too long, and shakes his head. He seems disappointed.

My question isn’t on the menu. You don’t have what I wanted.

Sir– He holds up a finger to cut me off. I groan inwardly. The skeptics were everywhere, but they were still a pain to deal with…

Your questions are weak. His voice was gravelly and tired. They ask nothing, and the answers mean nothing. You are just an agony aunt in need of a job.

A few customers in the shop turn around, concern in their faces. Their answers lay discarded at their tables, simple slips of yellowing paper. I ignored the man and began grinding coffee beans to get him off my mind – although I knew he was right, the average customer just wanted to know how to break up with their boyfriend or what they should study for their upcoming maths test. When studying brains doesn’t get you anywhere, you have to help people study their own.

I was just like any specialty café, and I had a business to run. I had to appeal to the masses.

My questions are bigger, he said, approaching my counter, leaning over it until I could see the glint in his teeth. Much bigger than that.

I sighed.

Sir, I’m sorry if my service has not been up to your standards. If you are unsatisfied, I suggest you perhaps look elsewhere. He was pissing me off, but I couldn’t risk getting a bad TripAdvisor review. Anyways, the customer was always right, right?

He turned around, and leaned his back lightly on the counter. I let go of my breath.

I want to know, he announced.

I want to know why the birds sing, and why the creek laughs, I want to know what stardust feels like. I want to scream in space.

I could sense, in his voice – though he hid it well – a small trace, a hint of fear. Of uncertainty, confusion. The look was familiar. I had been in his position – not knowing where I should go 159 | P a g e

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next, what I should do. I knew why he was here, and although I didn’t like him in the least, I wouldn’t turn down somebody like him. His act was well-crafted – he pretended to be a confident prick, but it was clear to me he was just a scared prick. Still a prick, though. And one who was all high-and-mighty. Seriously - screaming in space? Why the creek laughs? Come on.

It was almost like a scene in some teen novel.

He strode to the counter, and dug his fingernails – long and dirty – into the cracked wood.

Do you have my answers, shopkeep?

I called for my assistant in the kitchen to the counter. She could take over for a while.

Sir. Come with me.

––– The back room was a small one, hazily lit and heavy with incense. The room, although dark and small, blazed with energy – sometimes, I felt I was the only one who could detect it. It was unmistakably warm, and a deep violet colour, one of royalty and mystery. It’s what made me feel I had finally found what I was meant to do. This was my tarot room, and although it was eerily empty today, it would do.

He looked nervous, but he sank down into a plush cushion. I kept standing.

Well?

If I gave you the answers to your questions, how could you be sure that they were true?

He looked stumped, but soon recognition appeared in his face.

What is your name?

I stammered. It was strange to give my name to a customer, so I stayed quiet. He kept speaking anyway.

How can I be sure that anything is true? It’s all just a guessing game, no? But the answers to these questions, the ones I’ve got, they’re too important to guess the answers. So, what does someone in my position do? They go and see someone who should have those answers, or to at least give me some idea. You see what I mean?

I had to pick my words carefully.

Sir – 160 | P a g e

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Please, sit down.

I took his invitation, but felt a little irritated. It was my shop – he acted as if he owned the place.

Your questions are not the usual around here. I’m sure you’re aware of this.

Mm-hm.

It’s just that most people ask about what they should do in their relationships, in their schoolwork, things like that. I’ve, uh, never had anyone ask me… why the creek laughs. That’s pretty strange.

Yes. That doesn’t surprise me. People around here aren’t very curious.

You may be right. But… may I say…

This may be a bad idea. But I couldn’t tell him I knew what his answers were. He was looking for something personal - something that couldn’t be found by anyone other than himself. But I had to try.

Some questions are better left unanswered.

He furrowed his dark eyebrows. His features were strong, bold, sharp and angular, jaw perpetually clenched. He seemed… how to say this… like he had a wish never granted. He wasn’t here for fun. Strange that he would come to a simple shop like mine, and although my reviews were spotless, I was not awfully famous. Either way, I could see that all my suggestion had done was make him more anxious to pursue those answers. I might as well help him in some way. And what I didn’t want to say, the cards would say for me. They always knew what to do.

Perhaps we can consult the arcana and see what they say?

His eyes lit up, and he leaned forward in anticipation. My hands trembled slightly as I shuffled the cards again, and laid out three cards, in a triangle formation, face-down. My breath caught in my throat; dealing my cards made me nervous; nervous that I wouldn’t give the answer that the customers were looking for, because they were always looking for something, even if they didn’t know it. This man seemed desperate for the right one. His pale hand reached out, the veins purple beneath his skin, and turned each one over, so the glinting gold on its surface played with the light.

The Tower.

IV of Cups, reversed.

The Hermit.

A silence settled over the small room. Uncomfortable, I twisted my thumbs.

Well? he asked, shoulders tensed. What should I do?

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I sighed, and stared at the cards. Their whispers were almost there, I could almost hear it, taste it This is a time reading, I said, almost to myself.

What?

Your past, I said, a little louder. The Tower. In your past, something was destroyed. Something huge, important to you, and you will never find it again. It’s gone forever, so you must never look to find it. It’s a lost case. Do you know what I’m saying?

He seemed to understand.

However, you can rebuild. Make something better. And now, the IV of Cups, reversed, says to me – she says that in your quest to rebuild what you have lost, and in your search for… what you have told me… you have become too ignorant to what is in the world around you. What you lost was a rock in your life, and it is okay to try again. But you must not lose sight of all the good in the world around you. That’s what she’s saying to me; what is happening in your present. Now. I could see him linking the cards to his experiences, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes slightly red. He got it. I was doing well.

And in my future? What must I do?

The Hermit. Of course; he wouldn’t like this.

Oh well. Here goes nothing.

It’s time for you to go on a journey.

I paused. Heavy, angry quiet.

It can be physical or figurative. You need to breathe new air, find a new space, and recover from your past in order to move on and find your new life. And... find whatever answers you’re looking for.

But I’m already on a journey. You must have something wrong.

I may. Sometimes the cards are wrong. But I can assure you that it’s never happened before; not in this shop.

You’re sure?

I nodded. As far as I knew, it was true.

He sighed – a heavy, but decisive sigh – and stood up. He took a coin out of his pocket, and laid it on the table.

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I suppose I’ll take my leave, then. Thank you for… letting me know.

He made a quick smile, then pushed aside the curtain that acted as a door.

I’ll buy a coffee on the way out.

And just like that, he was gone. Off to find those answers he was so desperate for…

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The Three Words-Sue Paik “I didn’t know it was the last time I would see him. If I had, I would have said those three words back to him.”

It was three years since we started dating. We were just like any other ordinary couple. I loved spending time with him, as he would always make me laugh with his humourous jokes.

He was a very kind and loving person. Something unique about him was that he used to say those three words: “I love you.”

He would say this very often. We would be having a conversation, and out of the blue, he would suddenly say that. At first, I thought that this was very sweet of him, and every time he said this, I gave a warm smile and would answer back with the same three words. However, as it kept on repeating, I started to get annoyed. He would continue to say those three words at random moments, but I would ignore it or even give a little frown. At this time, I didn’t know that I would regret this so much.

One morning, we decided to meet up in a cafe like we always did. However, this day, I realised that he looked a lot more tired than usual. I asked him if he was alright, but he responded with only a small smile. I noticed that he looked worried, but I didn’t think much about this and continued with our usual conversation. We were talking like usual, but I noticed that he started to breath heavily as his voice got quieter. Then, he suddenly gripped his shirt tightly, and said something very quiet. It was quiet, but I knew what he said.

“I love you.”

Then, he suddenly dropped to the floor while clenching his heart. ______________________________________________________________________________ _______ I couldn’t process what had just happened, but when I got back to my senses, I realised that I was in a hospital, waiting in front of the surgery room.

“Is there any other family members with you?” the surgeon walked out and asked.

“No, I’m alone,” I answered, “Is he alright?”

“We failed to save him…” the surgeon quietly replied.

“Wh… what happened to him?” I whispered, shivering.

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“Didn’t you know that he had a heart problem? He must have he must have had heart pain often.” the surgeon said, and walked away.

As soon as I heard this, the world became colourless. It all became grey. Then, I fell to the ground, sobbing silently.

Why didn’t he tell me this before? No, maybe it was just that I never cared enough to ask him about it. He was scared. He was scared that he would leave forever without being able to tell me those three words. Even at the very last moment, the moment he knew that it was all going to end, he managed to tell me how he felt… what have I done for him? ______________________________________________________________________________ Now, five years have passed, but I still feel as if there is a hole in my heart. I regret the incident 5 years ago very much, and I constantly recollect the memory of that day. I always want to move on, but ...He cared for me until the end! It wouldn’t be fair if I totally forgot about him. It feels as if time has stopped since that day.

Will I ever be able to move on?

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Early Bird- Isabelle Fortaleza Tan 06:30 My eyes struggle to remain open while at the steering wheel. It is just another mundane Monday morning and I’m making my way to work. I gaze out the window to keep myself awake.

The sun has yet to rise: mellow blues and soft pinks blend together in a silvery mist to create a gorgeous scene in the sky. The birds are awakening and begin to harmonize.

I spot someone in the distance. Someone’s walking across the road unaware that I’m travelling towards them lightning quick. My mind is too fatigued to think; I don’t act fast enough.

CRASH. I forcefully jolt against the dashboard. Shards of glass from the windshield spew everywhere.

My car forcefully slams into a convertible.

Numb and senseless, I lay on my side, sandwiched between the cold dew on the pavement and the hard metal of my vehicle. All I can feel is the weight of my car’s hood stamping my body deeper and deeper into the ground. Pieces of the window are implanted onto my skin. My mind is whirring. What happened?

I lay on the frosty ground for what seems like eternity. Using all my remaining strength, I force myself off the hard icy asphalt. An unfamiliar hand reaches out to assist me. I grab the foreign palm and help myself up. The light momentarily blinds me but my eyes adapt and begin to focus on my surroundings and the owner of the mysterious hand - a young woman, who has clearly been drinking recently and is currently intoxicated. With mascara streaming down her face, she looks as if she has seen a ghost. From this, I assume she is the driver of the convertible that my sedan crashed into.

“A-Ar-Are you alright?” she hardly manages to get the words out whilst tears trickle from her eyes like water from a faucet.

“I’ll be fine. Are you alright?” I worriedly query.

She takes her trembling hand and points it towards the lifeless corpse that lay beneath our cars.

My heart stops. I can’t believe my eyes. I don’t want to. My blood runs cold. My muscles are tense. Silence hangs thick in the air like confetti.

“I-I killed h-him.” she blubbers with glassy eyes.

My heart starts racing. She didn’t run him over - I did! I gape at the bloody carcass. What have I done? Glimpsing around, I take note of no people or security cameras. No witnesses. Just me, 166 | P a g e

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her and the body. Do I tell her that I killed him? Whoever takes responsibility, would unequivocally go to jail.

I analyze her, obviously drunk and irresponsible for choosing to drive in the state she is in; but so young and can’t waste a pivotal portion of her life for crime that she didn’t even commit. Do I say nothing? Do I allow her to do time for making a reckless decision? Do I own up to my mistake?

In the distance, I see flashing blue and red lights, and I hear the piercing, long wailing scream of the police siren become louder as it approaches. I have to get my story straight soon. What do I do?

There’s no left or right.

No black or white.

I’m stuck.

Stuck in a grey area.

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Gray Area – Jean Ellise Kim “But… Nobody cared… And all my bitter memories scattered in white, engulfing me into sheer nothingness.” ….

She felt light headed, as a dissonance of sounds rang repetitively by her ears… Pale, nimble fingers clasped her throat. Everything felt so numb, almost like a chill of anesthesia, being injected into her. What on earth...?

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sudden movements of the ‘area’ seemed to lurch her stomach, jolting her conscience back and forth- while she struck the cold and empty floor, clutching her knees tightly up against her body. The clockwork powering the ascension… Gave off an overpowering scent of burning incense; making the nausea worse. She felt the tears coming, pooling around her eyes (with marks of her past ‘stigma’- as she should have realized), but nothing happened.

Nothing.

Time passed. Visions became more and more distorted with every minute… Looking up, she perpetually chewed her chapped lips while staring blankly at the view. The room- no, the translucent space, seemed to be in an infinite state of flux, flowing right before her eyes.

Occasionally, flashes of... images?... would fly by, but nobody really minded that.

‘Infinite… What an unusual word.’ She thought, tired of the countless minutes passing, ‘After all, nothing really lasts forever. Really...It’s ridiculous on how people think their dreams or loved ones will ALWAYS be there. When it could be vanishing in a daze….’ The girl drummed her fingers… “‘You know, sometimes I really, really hate myself. Now I think about it, I hate myself pretty often, because I’m happy but unhappy.”

No response.

“Wish I could love myself…”

White noises against static; the waves of pandemonium elapsed gently on the grey pools…

Caressing her tinted cheeks, as she finally, snapped.

“Is anybody there…?”

Silence.

“Please.”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

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Alone. Alone. ALONE. AlOne? “Ah-hahahaha…”

Much to her surprise, everything within where she was ‘standing’ warped against its will, entirely dependent on her soul. Bursts of sparks were ricocheting off the walls, while jagged cracks formed; sheer figures of foundered horses, screaming victims, rotten apples, scandalous rumors, and flickering flames…! All would dissolve and bleed together to create something so grotesque, but beautiful at the same time. With a pause, the final form danced around the realm, inching closer and closer to her- reaching out. And at the moment she shook its hand...

Hell broke loose.

Black. White. Black. White. Blue. Green. Yellow. Red. Static. Repeat. -Because the sky was blue, because there was sunshine- Black. White. Black. White. Blue. Green. Yellow. Red. Static.

Repeat. -Behind her helpless smile, there was the other half. The disgusting part that nobody wanted- Red? Yellow? Pink><? Purple>?! Orange>{? -Tell me the way. Make it stop. Let me breathe- Error. 404.

Where was the euphoria coming from? What about the porcelain masks? The confusion just kept on adding to her excitement.

Sobbing and beaming at the same time. ***************** “But… Nobody cared… And all my bitter memories scattered in white, engulfing me into sheer nothingness.”

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Kidnapped – Mary Kim Characters: Valentine: Victim Evangeline: Kidnapper Gabrielle: Valentine’s sister Camellia: Valentine’s mother I was kidnapped…. But… not really….

Valentine As I skipped down the pavement, I could hear my mom’s plaintive voice behind me.

‘Be careful…’

Irritation coiled around me, like a snake. I walked on. The closer I got to my house, the more the cloying weight of my mom’s worry lifted. It didn’t occur to me for a second that I should’ve listened to my mom and watched who was behind me...

I thought that there was nothing to worry about. And yet, two hours later, my whole world would be turned upside down. And though I didn’t know it at the time, it would all be my fault.

I was abducted and that moment still haunts me. It wants me back. A strong grip dragged me aggressively and pushed me into a car. The world around me started spinning. What was I doing inside this car? Who was the kidnapper and what did he want from me?

I was basically squished into the car. My feet were touching the window and there was no space for me to put my legs. I was so confused that the thought of me being kidnapped left me speechless. My hands were trembling with horror and I started to panic so much. I barely knew how to fight or even to protect myself, so how was I going to fight this muscular man? I knew I was done. I clenched my fist together and gritted my teeth. I smacked him with my backpack and he almost fell back. He started growling but I wasn't going to stop. Not until he let me go.

Not until he let me go home. But then he punched me back and I lost my grip. My eyes blurred and all I could see was the faded man’s eyes staring right into mine.

I had to run. Run out of this nightmare, but only to know the fact that this wasn’t a nightmare.

It was real. I opened the door and I ran. I ran out of the car and I even ran out of my shoes; out into a place I didn’t know of. But he got me. It was too late. He smacked me again. But this time it was harder, stronger, tougher and everything seemed faint. I was too weak and bruised to fight back... I collapsed to the floor in agonizing pain.

My eyes were closed… for now. *********************** 170 | P a g e

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Slowly, I felt the blood rush to my fingers and I felt alive. I could feel my face once again and with a quick glimpse I saw a stern looking lady.

It seemed like everything that happened yesterday was gone. The bruises, the loneliness, the hard punches - all of it felt like it all disappeared like a quick wind. But only if the wind had blown past me as well. It could have taken me to a place further from here perhaps to my house, where I could feel assured and away from danger. I tried to focus my vision as hard as I could.

The first thing I saw was a beautiful hall with its graceful mirrors and elegant furniture leading into a beautiful living room. The kitchen was warm and cozy. The kitchen floor warmed up my feet and I enjoyed the satisfaction. There was a long table going down the entire kitchen and there was a lovely bouquet in the middle of the table. The kitchen looked very floral. The table was surrounded by exquisite laces.

In front of me I saw a lovely, but also a strict looking lady. I tried to imagine her as a person who had tried to kidnap me, but she was elegant and formal. She looked like a person who would give me the biggest smile, best education and the best clothing to wear. She was dressed elegantly with a crimson wool coat that slide off her high heels. Her feet were the longest, skinniest and narrowest feet I had ever seen. Her dress was a color of rich red and it was a long fancy dress that made a lovely “straight across” neckline, her fashionable jewellery collaborated with her fine nails and she looked like a bride. Her earrings were the chandelier types. They were enormous and they went beautifully with her dress. The pearls and crystals hidden beneath her earrings were stunning.

Her smell was very luxurious and pleasing. The stray whiff of aroma swam over to my nostrils.

The floral fragrant made my nostrils delighted. Her perfume was the sweetest thing ever. I wanted the fragrant to melt in my nostrils and never leave. It was the most romantic, classic and lavish scent of all times. I could imagine myself from a distance, smelling the fluffy smell of rose petals that swished like winds into my nostrils.

“Who are y-ou?” I stuttered with a trembling voice.

The lady ignored my question but instead greeted me with a smile and said, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You can always stay here whenever you want.”

I thought about what she had said, “, you can always stay here whenever you want.”

Did she think I was going to stay here forever? I mean I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea because I was not planning to stay here. I was very scared, but the way the lady talked actually comforted me a bit.

Soon my eyes were able to see more clearly and that was when I realized that behind the lady stood a tall tree that resembled the lady’s figure. The tree branches were so thin that if it was a 171 | P a g e

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slightest gust of wind passed, the tree would only be left with its trunk. The tree was very tall that it could almost touch the tip of the glamorously glowing chandelier. Taking a step to the right, I could see a huge golden framed mirror, behind the tree. The reflection of the beautiful lady was so clear that I could see it her perfectly, even if I were to squint my eyes. I thought about the lady’s request of staying, and after seeing her kindness and her comfort towards me, I decided to stay for a few hours.

The lady then led me to my room which was on the second floor. As the door opened to the room, it made me speechless. The room was 5 times bigger than my room at home. It was so huge that it had its own bathroom, study hall, walk in closet, playroom and a balcony.

I climbed onto my bed and jumped in excitement and realized that the bed was the softest thing my feet had ever felt. I opened up the closet room and I saw the beautiful dresses that I had always wished for. There were so many clothes and everything was so perfect. There were blouses, dresses, skirts, pants and shoes. I felt like everything was prepared for me to be in this room for ages. The closet was packed with clothes and there was a big gigantic mirror that was silver famed. I realized that I was so sleepy and I was slowly falling asleep. I decided to take a quick nap and then probably shower later. I closed my eyes… and opened them later…

I woke up to sunshine pouring in through the bedroom window of my room. Sitting beside my bed was the lady. She gently brushed my hair that was spread over the pillow. She bent down carefully drawing the quilt over my bare shoulders. She watched me for a moment as my breath grew less and my eyes opened slowly. The lady’s face turned very pale as a sat on my bed and stared right at her eyes. It was as if she didn’t want to make eye contact with me, she kept avoiding my eyes. I felt like she wanted to tell me something, but she couldn’t.

A moment later I was off the bed and scampering to the window. That was when the lady turned to me and said, “I know this is your first time here, but I want you to feel like it’s your home. Do you want to go somewhere with me?” she questioned.

“Go where,” I asked with curiosity.

“Come downstairs once you get dressed, then you’ll know.”

After the door closed, I pulled on my clothes quickly, then checked myself in the mirror - white sleeveless blouse, red pencil skirt, and tan leather pumps all looked GOOD. I let my hair loose and applied sunscreen and lotion. I slid my phone into my bag along with my gum. Grabbing my sunglasses, I left the room and headed downstairs.

Swallowing my anxiousness, I forced myself a smile on my face and headed out the door with the lady right behind me. When we walked out the lady led me to the garden and there was a beautiful staircase that led to a restaurant. Six men in black outfits quickly talked to the lady and led us to a room. The lady went in first and I followed her with my hands trembling a bit.

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The room was absolutely gorgeous. There was an enormous chandelier in the middle surrounded by a raindrop chandelier. There was a sleek wooden table in the center with two glossy white leather chairs at the end of the table at each side. The lady sat at one end and I sat at the other. There was a knock on the door and a waiter came in with our food.

The waiter carefully placed my food on the table, along with the lady’s food. My food was grilled lobster with risotto with seafood, while the lady had steak with scallops and asparagus. I took a first bite awaiting to see how it would taste - it tasted absolutely wonderful!

“What should I call you ma’am?” I asked. For a slight second she looked very confused, but she quickly hid it with a smile.

“You can call me Evangeline.” she answered with a delightful grin. I thought about the name “Evangeline” it sounded so elegant and rich. I was so lost in the thought about the lady’s name that I didn’t realize the lady was asking me a question.

“What do you want me to call you?” asked the lady with a laugh. I thought about what she said still sort of lost about her own name.

“Oh, um, my name is um Valentina.” I replied.

The lady looked at me for a few seconds and then picked up her fork and went back on eating.

I observed the lady so much that I didn’t realize that I was staring at her for the whole time. The lady noticed me staring at her and blushed but then went back to her food. After a few minutes we were both sort of done with our food, then the lady stood up first and I followed her. She quickly paid and she walked out. I soon realized that the six men wearing black suits were actually the lady’s body guards. I wondered about her job. What kind of job does she have that she needs a bodyguard? Does she have a lot of enemies? I thought about this for a while and I tried to make some sense out of it. The men in the black suits were looking at me quite often which I did notice, but I pretended like I didn't. We walked downstairs and we walked for about a few minutes until we reached the house.

“I hope you enjoyed your dinner. Breakfast will be ready from 7 am tomorrow in the kitchen, you can come down whenever you want. Have a good night.” and the lady left. I wanted to say something like thank you or good night but the lady left so quickly that I didn’t even have a chance to say anything. As soon as she left her bodyguards followed her into the hallway, I headed up the stairs and up to my room.

When I went in everything was organised. I remembered that when I changed my clothes, I just tossed it onto my bed but it was in the closet neatly organised. I thought to myself and I knew they had a maid or a servant that would always clean my room. I went into the walk in closet to take off my clothes when I saw a faint black color trying to get its way through the clothes. I dug through the clothes and found a black blouse that looked very familiar, and that was when I knew that the lady wasn’t trying to comfort me…

The black blouse was my school uniform.

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In fact, I started to understand why she knew which direction I was headed from school that Friday evening when I was kidnapped. She knew the exact time I would be there and the strong grip that grabbed me that Friday night was one of her bodyguards. She had already done extra research on who I was and what school I went to. But now I knew that the lady wasn’t here to comfort me, but to actually keep me until the end.

I knew I had to do something, but for now I took off my clothes and put on my pajamas and went to sleep…

I woke up the next day yawning with the bright sunshine in my eyes. I bent down and put on my slippers and headed towards the bathroom. With a wide-eyed nod, I quickly went into the bathroom and turned on my tap. After washing my face with cold running water, I felt the fresh feeling of a new start of today. I wiped my face with a towel and was ready to leave when I saw a purple colored note hidden behind another towel. I moved the other towels and picked up the purple note and before I even had a chance to read the note, I gasped!

There was a number written on the paper which seemed like a phone number. But the most astonishing thing was that phone number on the paper was my mom’s number! I almost fell back, barely grabbing myself from the shock. I couldn't believe it. I couldn’t understand why Evangeline needed my mom’s phone number. I turned the paper around to see if there was anything else written, but to my surprise I found something that looked like a code with a bunch of numbers. The numbers read 96311. What was this number? Why was it written behind the note? I quickly went under my bed and hid the note behind a bunch of blankets.

Gabrielle: Valentine promised to meet me on our balcony right after school at 3:00pm. Valentine normally came early than me so I decided to come a bit earlier. At 3:15pm Valentine still didn’t arrive. I started to get a bit worried, but I decided to wait for a few more minutes. I couldn't see her.

She should have been on her way back across the school towards me by now. Maybe she got confused and wandered off in the wrong direction. I scanned the horizon. The pavement was fairly crowded, but there was still plenty of space between the groupings on the pavements and I had a clear view for at least two hundred metres in both directions.

‘Valentine!’ I called.

Several nearby families looked around. Ignoring them, I yelled again. ‘Valentine!’ Where was she? It wasn’t like her to muck about.

My shout echoed away into silence. My guts squeezed into a knot. Don’t panic, I said to myself.

It’s only been 30 minutes. She’s got to be here somewhere.

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school. She couldn’t have just vanished. Fighting back my rising panic, I stopped and took a deep breath.

Think. Where could she have gone? I turned right around, looking in every direction, trying to spot the familiar silhouette of my little sister. But there was no sign of her.

Heart pounding, I grabbed the arm of a mother walking by, her baby in a sling.

‘My sister’s missing,’ I said. ‘She’s eight and a half.’

‘Oh.’ The woman’s eyes widened. ‘I haven’t seen anyone yet, I’m sorry.’

I stood, trying to see everything all at once. It was no good. Panic rose inside me, whipping up through my body like a tornado. And then my phone beeped. A text from Valentine’s phone.

Relief surged through me. With trembling hands, I opened the text.

Stop looking on the pavement. Your sister isn’t there. Do NOT contact the police or you will never see your sister AGAIN. Go home and wait. You could’ve noticed someone was there.

I stared at the words, the sun beating down on the back of my head. Valentine had been taken, just like I have been taken once. She was missing and I died inside of me. My legs gave way underneath me and I sank to the ground. I read the text again and again. Trying to make the words sink in.

I looked up. The world was carrying people as normal. But everything changed. I got to my feet and walked, blindly, across the roads. My heart was beating so fast and so loudly I could barely hear myself to think.

Who could have taken her? Where was she?

Valentine had been in my care and I’d allowed someone to take her.

I looked at the text message again.

Do NOT contact the police.

I needed to tell mom.

My stomach twisted into a hard ball of knots as I ran hard. I stood in the doorway. How on earth could I even begin to explain to her what had happened?

‘Is that you, Valentine sweetie? Gabrielle?’

I said nothing. My legs felt like lead.

Mom turned round. She blinked as she took in the fact that I was alone. ‘Where’s Valentine?’

I couldn’t find the words to say it, so I just held out my phone. Camellia stared at my face and her mouth fell open. In a second she was across the room. She grabbed my mobile and read the text. Her lips moved as she went over the word. Like me, she read it three times before she looked up. Her face was ghost-white, her eyes filled with horror.

‘What are we going to do?’ I said. I tried to concentrate. We had two options. Call the policeand risk Valentine’s life. Or wait for a phone call, as the kidnappers had ordered.

‘Maybe we should call the police.’

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‘No.’ Mom looked up. ‘We can’t take the risk. Not until, we know what they want… what they’re threatening to do to Valentine. Mom was right. I sat down, shuddering beside her.

My phone rang. Valentine’s number again.

Mom stared at me as I picked up the mobile.

‘Hello?’ I said.

‘Gabrielle?’ The voice was female but disguised - filtered through some kind of machine that made it sound robot- like.

‘Are you at home, like I asked?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Where’s Valentine? Is she all right?’

Mom was on her feet beside me now, twisting her hands anxiously over each other.

The voice continued: ‘Valentine is safe and well. If you do what I say she’ll be returned home shortly. But only if she decides to go home.’ The voice paused.

‘I want to speak to Valentine. Hear for myself that she’s all right.’

‘Not yet.’ The voice grew tense. ‘You always were a little princess, weren’t you? Looking down your nose at everyone else.’

I froze like a stone. Did this woman know me?

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

The woman laughed. It sounded weird through the robot- like filter. “Don’t you remember me, Gabrielle?”

My mind flashed back to the time I was kidnapped.

The connections snapped together in my mind.

Could Valentine’s kidnapper be the same person who had kidnapped me all those years ago?

Valentine: I hurriedly put on my clothes and headed downstairs. I went into the kitchen and I could see a table set with food and perhaps it was the Evangeline’s. I looked around and saw a figure headed upstairs and soon realized that it was Evangeline. I followed her quickly, perhaps she was trying to wake me up since it was quite late. I tried to catch up with her to tell her that I was already downstairs, when a plump looking old lady came out of my room, who was my cleaning lady.

‘What do you mean.’ yelled Evangeline.

‘I’m sorry, but the girl is smarter than I thought.’ The maid said worriedly.

‘She’s not smart, but you are just dumb, I told you to throw the note in the trash can, but how did it end up underneath the girls bed!’ screamed Evangeline. I could see her face as she yelled.

She looked so scary, a face I have never seen before.

‘I’m sorry, but that is not the problem.’ The maid said eagerly.

‘What do you mean by that.’ asked Evangeline.

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‘Valentine’s parents contacted the police and they already tracked you down. The police will be here at 3pm.’ screeched the maid.

‘Ughh, why can’t that stupid lady just sit still, just like I ordered her to!’ screamed Evangeline.

I gasped. How could Evangeline do this to me. She was so sweet and kind whenever I saw her.

And yet, she threatened my mom and my sister. How dare she.

‘What should we do.’ asked the maid with a worried voice.

‘I am planning to set the house on fire at around 2:30pm, who cares about this big mansion.

There will be no use of this mansion once I’m in prison. Once I set the house on fire, I will run away and the only person left in this house will be Valentine.’ said Evangeline.

Suddenly, I smelled a faint gust of smoke. My heart stopped beating for a moment. Connections were made in my mind. I thought Evangeline was going to set this house on fire at 2:30pm. But it’s only 1pm! I went out of my room and downstairs. The house was on FIRE! I couldn’t believe my eyes. I went downstairs and saw a faint shadow. It was Evangeline. But then I realized that she was struggling to open the door. And then I heard a men’s voice saying ‘All the doors are closed. We’re going to die.’

I headed upstairs sat down on my chair. I knew I was done. The house was on fire and there was no way out.

‘VALENTINE?’ The shout came from above.

I looked up. A fireman was reaching through the window towards me.

‘Give me your hand!’ he yelled.

Suddenly, Evangeline ran into my room and grabbed my arm. I looked at Evangeline. I tried to stop her from coming but there was no strength in my arms.

‘I can’t take two of you at once!’ he yelled.

I held out my arm. Smoke billowed up around me. Reality seemed to fade around me. Was this what dying felt like? As I closed my eyes, I felt a strong hand grip my wrist. With my last ounce of energy, I pushed myself up against the chair.

As the fireman hauled me through the window, I let go of Evangeline...

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Should this Gray Area have an answer? - Haruki Yoshikawa Is your mind used to 2018? That’s not really the case for me. I feel like I’m still in the year 2017.

It takes until summer for me to say the year exactly right on my first attempt.

Speaking of last year, I was reading this article captioned “17 good things that happened in 2017” Published by The Washington Post the other day, and something sparked in my mind.

On November 13th 2017, a North Korean defector crossed the border in The Demilitarized Zone (frequently referred to as DMZ) dividing 2 countries - North and South Korea. The United Nations Command force made the footage available to the public on social media a day after the incident...

Just by hearing that a person crossed the most fortified border in the world, the only thing that comes up in our mind is: “WHAT? WOW...”

Or “How did he cross?”

Or “How did he survive?”

Or “Not a big deal. You know, just forget about it” For most of us, we only try to imagine what we only saw in the little clip. However, what you don’t realise is how much of a ridiculously difficult question he had to ask himself behind the scene.

“Are you going to use 3 generations of your family as a sacrifice, just for you to earn freedom?”

In other words, “Is he valuing his existence higher than the rest of his family?”

However, since this is pretty straightforward, let’s take a look at this from a different perspective.

Do Humans Value Their Lives Too Much or Too Little?

According to “Debate.org”, 79% of all participants stated that we, as humans, value our lives too much, and the other 21% acknowledged the opposite. Some mentioned that life is “Limiting and valueless”. In fact, the topic was so vague that a person even wrote “Does Anything Really Need “Value”?”

In other words, should this Gray Area, even have an answer?

History

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Today, human rights make up most of the social issues globally. Let’s take slaves and racism for example. According to history, the first action of what is considered “slavery” happened when the first 19 Africans to reach the English colonies arrived in Jamestown, Virginia in 1619. During this time, no-one valued anyone’s life, since in the old days, people were pretty much clear of what they had to do in life, and that was the mostly only thing that they could do. Likewise, for part of the people, their life was mostly to work as slaves, and that was it. Therefore, there was no point in valuing or looking at their value, since they couldn’t do anything differently.

Today’s Society But what can you think of when judging the value of something today? Take the price of a product for example. Today, if you go to a supermarket or other shopping place casually to get some items, you would always look at the price of each item, and decide whether you should buy it or not. Accordingly, if it’s expensive and over your budget, you can’t afford to buy that product. Let’s say you decided to leave the store for that day, and come back the next day and see the price tag of the item you wanted to purchase a day ago, and realise it is now at a discount.

This happens usually for everyone, but we tend to not think about how the price dropped. For items like foods, discounts happen when they are not bought by many customers, and are leftovers. But why does this enable customers to get an item cheaper than its original price?

Since the whole topic is a “Gray Area”, there should be no specific answer for this question, but what I can say is that even unintentionally, a simple human decision can change their surroundings. If you don’t buy an item due to its price, you are making a tiny progress for the price of the item to drop, and further progress can be made by other customers.

In other words, humans have power to rank things from most valuable to unfavourable.

And that means we can decide how valuable our lives really are. And we can decide if our lives outweigh the lives of others. Just like the North Korean refugee.

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An Unwanted Surprise - Julie Howarth This story is not suitable for young readers due to mature relationship content. Parental guidance is advised.

My spine quivered as my stomach craved for food; it expected me to devour all the food that existed in this world. Despite the fact that I recently started to vomit and feel nauseous, my body was craving for carbs at all times. My energy level crawled the floor, as the heavy weight of fatigue pushed above my shoulders. I always enjoyed school, but now, my body was a magnet attached to my bed…

“Hurry up! You’re going to miss the bus!” my mom panicked from downstairs, “I have to go to work now... oh yeah I have left you some money on the dining table so you take care of your own dinner. As usual I’m going to be late today…Oh my gosh it’s six thirty hurry up Stephanie I’m leaving now bye!”

------------------------------------- A while later ----------------------------------------------------10:35 AM Ding Dong!

“Stephanie Jones, please come to the office immediately.”

Ice replaced my spine as my hands were shuddering. Especially, the fact the principle forcefully said the word “immediately” made me even more solicitous as an anxious feeling filled me.

Every single footstep was intensifying as I strenuously dragged myself down the floor as if I was a moth that damaged its wings.

“Are you ok? Your face is like...frozen. I wanted to inform you about the writing that you submitted for the U.S teenage writing competition.”

I wasn’t concentrating… The fact that I was located in the principal's office shamed me. This moment had been playing in my nightmares ever since... “ You are within the top 0.1 percent, and your writing is one of the nominees for first place!”

Due to too much astonishment, his speech was going through one ear and out to another. As soon as he mentioned about the point one percent, I finally realized that it was something optimistic instead of negative.

Or perhaps he knew that I had a boyfriend? More than a boyfriend.

------------------------------- At 12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------Unlike this morning, my legs were a motor as I saw the steam puffing out of the pot. The smell of food cooking placed me into a different world as my stomach was slowly turning into a knot 180 | P a g e

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I’m hungry but what was wrong with my stomach? It wanted food but it also didn’t want it at the same time; I might be as ravenous as a lion looking at chicken meat... But sometimes the smell of the food made me feel nauseous and uneasy.

Sitting on the table, my friends were laughing their heads off. Despite all of my closest friends, the table that was miles away had Michael and his football team.

“Yo, so how are you with Michael?”

“Huh? Oh he’s been pretty busy lately. You know he has tryouts, tests…”

“Dude you guys were so close, why aren’t you together?”

“I told you, he’s busy.”

“Your last date was 3 months ago and you guys literally had...”

“Shut up! There are teachers here.”

“You’re not a virgin now.”

“I told you to shut up.”

“No, don’t tell me to shut up. You’re not a virgin, and he’s ignoring you.”

“Oh my Janice, he’s not ignoring me, he is busy like hell and.”

“When was your last period?”

“Huh?” That phrase just hit me.

“When was your last period? Why are you hesitating?”

Silence.

“NO WAY! It was your first...”

“3 weeks ago ok? And are you stupid? Why would I be pregnant?”

“So you are admitting that you’re pregnant?”

“Janice. Stop. I am not pregnant.”

“Wait… Didn’t you send Michael a message? Did he answer yet?”

“Um… Yes, he did. We’re fine ok? Mind your own business.”

After 15 minutes, without any surprise, my stomach was upset again. I crouched and sweated in strain as I vomited in the bathroom. All my friends knew that this would happen. Right now, I reckon that I’m named as a vomiter who is smart. A smart girl who is focused onto her academics but who also has a boyfriend - which is an irony. Michael right now is a consequence in my life. I repetitively refreshed the text messages between me and Michael. I’ve sent this message 2 weeks ago.

But he still didn’t read it.

Oh well now that I’ve vomited, I felt a miniscule ball that was ricocheting from corner to corner in my stomach.

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But actually, I don’t want to go the hospital. I don’t want to hear the results. But I know… I have to.

“Mum, I don’t feel well… Lately I’ve been vomiting the whole time and I can’t digest food… May I got the hospital?” I earnestly inquired.

“Is it that bad? Ok but don’t do examinations that are expensive. You know my salary...”

“Thanks Mum.” ******************** I had a tentative heartbeat as I stood across the building with despair. A breeze of anguish howled into my ears as shivers hurtled down my spine. My hands were quivering as I tried to calm myself. Stepping into the building, I held my heart as I felt the melt down coming.

The results were coming out soon...

“Stephanie, please come into the doctor’s room” the nurse brightly said.

“Hello, what’s your problem?” the doctor said as he glared at me.

“Um… Lately I’ve been vomiting a lot… In fact, every day. I feel something in my stomach but I’m just curious what it is…”

“Oh… I’m sorry to ask but do you have a boyfriend?”

That phrase hit me like a bus. I hesitated and answered “Yes.” “Did you sleep with him?”

Now there was the answer.

“Um… yes…”

“Ok. We’ll have a quick examina…”

“Is it expensive?”

“No. And even it is, you need it right now.”

Droplets of sweat were bolting down my nervous cheeks. The nurse took my hand and we went into the examination room.

Once the examination was done, the doctor and the nurse had a serious conversation. They were glimpsing at me from time-to-time… But I knew the results.

“Hi Stephanie…. How old are you?”

“I’m 16. Sophomore” “Right…” The doctor had an anxious face and he didn’t tell me for about 20 seconds…

That I was pregnant.

Oh my gosh what do I do?

My mum will kill me.

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--------------------------------------- At 10pm ---------------------------------------------------------“Stephanie, what did the doctor say? Why are you so down all of a sudden?” my mum anxiously said.

“Huh? Oh he told me to exercise. There’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” “It’s not like cancer right?”

“No, no, don’t worry mum.”

I was lying.

At school…

“Michael, I need to talk to you…”

“No. I don’t want you.”

“Please, it’s important.”

“WHAT?” Michael shouted.

He was treating me like dirt. I gave him such a precious thing. I stared at him obnoxiously. I turned around.

Off I went.

I knew that I would have to handle this gray area on my own.

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The Red Doll – Jim Bae The red doll. The red doll was coming…

“What do you want this time?” the red doll sneered, “You know that I can give you ANYTHING?” From my blurry mind, I remembered some words from my father; his words were inspirational to me: “Be content with what you have” But when I remembered his very words everything was too late! After everything that I had done, the red doll (Azrael) would come and have taken me to the place of misfortune and death...

-----------------------------------When I woke up from the dream, it was drizzling outside and the sun was covered by a gloomy cloud. The sky was covered by darkness. It seemed that everything had lost color. I had had a strange dream, a very strange dream. The dream seemed so realistic, that it confused me. I was in turmoil. I looked at myself in that old, unstylish ‘antiquated’ mirror. This mirror has been passed down from generation to generation. It had some eerie symbolic features that I never really understood. On the top, right hand of the mirror was a white angel carrying a shield with a cross on it. Whereas at the bottom of the mirror was a feverishly looking devil carrying a sword. The weakened moonlight grudgingly hit the surface of the mirror and it reflected on me.

My body, my skin, my face with the underling scar that starts from the side of my forehand to the bottom of my chin…

Suddenly, while I was looking towards the mirror, I remembered some part of my dream but it’s just a tip of iceberg.

In my dream, I was in a train station sitting on a wooden chair, waiting for a train to arrive.

Regardless of how long I’d been waiting for the train; the train had never arrived. All of a sudden I heard someone was calling my name across the railroad track.

‘Sherry where are you? Sherry where are you?’

I believed the stranger who appeared in was a girl. No, a red doll. An Azrael. The strange voice repeated over and over again. Whenever I try to remember what have happened in my dream, the fragment memories became more and more blurry.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------After breakfast, my mom drove me to the school. On the way to the school, I turned my face to the window. As the light bounced through the window, the haunted scar on the right side of my face appeared again. This happened years ago yet sometimes I still felt the extreme pain, a type

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of pain you can’t demonstrate with normal words, a type of pain that you couldn’t forget no matter how long it passes…

I opened the locker. A doll, a red doll, had suddenly appeared in my locker! Who put it in my locker? Is it another PRANK from my FRIENDS? I grabbed the doll and put the doll in lost and found area, I hope someone will take it back.

The day went fast and, as usual, I went back to the house tired. Tomorrow will be the same; just like today I suppose. The doll, the red doll that I saw in the locker this morning appeared on my table. I thought it was two different dolls; both dolls wore the exact same dress, same hair and obviously both of them is red. Suspicion and questions rose inside my head.

“Hey what do you want” an anonymous voice suddenly appeared in my room. I’m probably too stressed recently; it must be a hallucination, I told myself.

“Yes, it is me! The doll in front of you! What do you want my friend? I can give you everything you want, but there is going to a price for your wish...” the doll said with an evil smile on her face.

“Okay...Um……” I hesitated for a moment, I assume this must be a dream. “I want a new Nike trainer...” I answered hesitantly.

“Your wish will become true.”

As soon as she finished her sentence, she disappeared without any signs. I assumed it was just a dream.

But when I opened my blurry eyes, a brand new Nike trainer emerged on my table. I ran to the table and grabbed the trainers. I realized it was not a dream, the doll was real. Any wishes can become the reality I told myself, an evil plan appeared inside my consciousness…

When I was walking towards the school, my consciousness kept surrounding the red doll. Why was the doll helping me? Could I use the doll and do whatever I want?

But as I arrived to the school, the teacher announced that my best friend Jessica was hit by a car….

-----------------------------------------------------“Are you satisfied with the new trainers? What do you want this time?” The red doll sneered.

“You know that I can give you ANYTHING right?”

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passes. An evil laughter soon appeared on my face, I knew I couldn’t stop myself from doing this…

“I want you to GET RID OF EVERYONE WHO BULLIED ME!” I answered back in a voice full of anger.

“Okay but the price will be higher than the previous one, I hope your wish will become true...”

As soon as she finished her sentence she disappeared.

I woke up in the morning and went to the school as usual. The school announced ‘some unpleasant news’.

Five girls had died in a car accident that night. For me, it was great news to know. Nevertheless, as I went back to the house, I saw my dad lying on the floor. His skin was unbelievably pale, I put my finger towards his nose, I couldn’t feel any air is breath in or out…..

“No! No! No!” I screamed. At this point, I realized that I had to stop the greed inside my heart or more innocents would become the price for my selfish wishes…

------------------------------------------------------------------Until…

“So what do you want this time my friend you know I can give you everything RIGHT?” The red doll suddenly appeared in front of me with her signature sneer.

“I lost everything…….” I said in a voice full of regret. I know everything is too late to change.

“Indeed! You lost everything my friend….” The red doll answered in voice full of excitement like a person who won a game.

“I want you to take my life as a price to bring everything back to normal! I promise this will be my last wish….” I said it like prey begging the predator for survival.

“Sure.” she answered without any hesitation. she started to sneer as usual; she couldn’t conceal the excitement on her face.

She took a scissor from my table and... Blood started to flow out of my body, my sight became blurrier… IS THIS WHAT I DESERVE?

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The Button – Alice Wang and Grace Kent Government Official Things are going splendidly. The numbers are decreasing and rations are becoming more generous for everyone. This is not the world we envisioned 40 years ago. Pain. Suffering.

Starvation. Death. The constant news broadcasts remind us of the staggering overpopulation our world faces on a daily basis but we know - it could be worse. Much, much worse without our help...

Monica The bland grey of my desk was the same as every day. As usual, I waited for the harsh red light to turn on. The light illuminated and a harsh crimson filled my vision, I pushed the button and waited for the light to turn on again. I would repeat this process until the end of my 4-hour shift. My head throbbed and I needed some pain medication but we had to pay attention or we would be removed from our positions. It was well paid and rather effortless. No one really understood the easy hours and high pay because all we did was push the darn button for a few hours once a month or so. And we had no idea why…

Jessie I can’t believe it, I was at work for 4 hours pushing a freaking button and I come home to find my son on the floor, zapped to a crisp and obviously dead. His hair was spread along the floor like strings. I was devastated as soon as I found his cold body and didn’t know what happened to him while I was at work. Soon, the police arrived and the officers set the perimeter around him with crime investigation tape. While they were investigating, they found the left side of my son’s brain was swollen and burnt.

What happened?

Denise Exhausted and tired, I decided to take a day off. I stumbled out of the room dragging my legs behind me and my head sparked with shooting pain. As I staggered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, the news came on and told us that there had been a sudden “massacre” this morning and over 1000 had died by electrocution but no one knew why. They were not murdered and none of them were bad people. It seems that every time I turn on the TV nowadays, more people have died. More pain and suffering. What has happened to our world?

Government Official

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We need to take precautionary measures now. Birth rates are increasing; the light is being turned on faster than ever before. We fear people may find out. News companies are constantly reporting on the electrocutions. Although I feel the thrill of doing this, of knowing something very few people know, I wish there was another option, I wish we didn’t have to do this, but the buttons are all we have to keep our population in check…

News Reporter I can’t figure it out. The deaths. The symptoms of electrocution everywhere on the bodies have no source. There is no correlation between the victims, no clear path linking them together. They are not bad people, they’re not criminals, they’re all different ages, shapes, colours and sizes. But why are they dying so quickly?

Monica The light is turning on quicker. Every few seconds I push the button. My arm aches from the constant force I have to exude on the red light. I still can't get over with the fact that massive amounts of people are dying out every day with no explanation. The more I push the button, the more death tolls appear in the news. My gut feelings tell me that there is something atrocious going on and it might be because of my job. The button turns on again and the question still lingers in my mind: “what does it do?”

And why do I keep on pushing it?

Jessie The grief overtakes me. I can’t work, not even pushing a button that requires little to no thinking. My son deserves an answer. He deserves justice. I deserve to know what happened to my baby boy. But most importantly, all the families of these electrocution victims deserve to know what happened to their loved ones. I sit there and promise my son I will find out…

Doctor The babies are being born faster than before and I am constantly implanting the chips into their heads that will, one day, end their life. They will have no warning. They will not get to say goodbye. They will simply fade away and cease to exist in this god forsaken world we have built. All because of a button…

Denise

Sitting at my desk, pressing the button, everything comes together. Everything makes sense. I figured it out...

But will I ever be brave enough to stop pushing?

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Pesticide – Hyunsung Bang This story is not suitable for sensitive readers.

Based on “Flowers for Algernon” and the Hindu myth about a Rakshasa (a cannibal monster).

Diary of subject 34290 January 5th 2018 Fri I am an object of experiment. Everyday I have same day. eat,sleap,poop. I am stoopit, and Icome in becuse they say they can make me smart. They tell me to rite a diery, and this is why i riting.

January 6th 2018 Sat It’s the second day of riting and it hard. bumba!

January 7th 2018 Today, they talk about a becoming smart. I cud’nt undustand what they say.

January 9th 2018 I lazy. Bie. January 10th 2018 tomorrow i get smart.

January 14th 2018 Today I getting smarter. they bring sharp. I scared.

January 15th 2018 After the experimen, master tell me to read many book.

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**************************************************************************************************** January 20th These days, I feel that I am getting smarter. I can understand quickly, and I do not make stupid grammar mistakes. Today my master told me to come to his office by 6:00. I’m looking forward to finally meeting him…

January 21st Master told me that I will be in a project about the mass production of the medicine that I took, which is called the Rakshasas. I am going to be one of the main contributors of the project, and all the intelligent top connoisseurs are going to listen to me. The project is due on February 16th at 6:06. I continue to grow smarter with every hour that passes.

January 29th Project Rakshasas is working very well and I feel very appreciated by my master. His serum continues improving my intelligence. I think differently from others. The project is working very well, and the medicine is almost complete.

Feb 1st There is no more need for this primitive form of journal writing. My mental capacities are obvious to all who see me…

March 19th I am restarting to write diaries merely because I felt like it will help to arrange my thoughts. To explain what I did for approximately 50 days: during the first week, I felt like I was superman. I was capable of solving any university level problems in my head. On the 14~50th day, I worked on the project. We have succeeded in the mass production of the Rakshasas.

March 22nd Today, I cut my flesh, and I went to the hospital. When I tried to show my injury to the doctor, I realised that I was totally fine. I felt ashamed and strange, which made me run away from the hospital. It was weird.

March 24th

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I feel like I am gaining violent tendencies. People look like nothing to me; beings that could easily be wounded, deceived. I can see what others think, which makes me condescending towards them. They irritate me with their enormous stupidity.

March 26th These days, most of the people I see, I just feel like stepping on them. They look like anthropoids to me these days.

March 27th I was looking at the mirror and I discovered that my teeth are getting longer and sharper. I think it is the part of the effects of the Rakshasas.

The subject is the first to demonstrate prominent canines and his blood levels of aggression hormones are intensely elevated. He (along with his fellow guinea pigs) still believe that they are researchers and not the subject of our clinical trials. He will need to be maintained on 24-hour surveillance. The serum is about to peak in his system. **************************************************************************************************** March 28th I’ve been pondering about the identity of my master. He is the only one whose mind I couldn’t read and he doesn’t feel the same as the other researchers. He has a very intimidating aura, and he is not exposed to the public.

Who in the hell is he?

In the meantime, the anger inside me grows. I don’t know how much longer I can handle the stupidity of my fellow researchers. If Dr. Smith shows his fangs to me again, I will… ****************************************************************************** Experiment no.666 has been temporarily suspended. The subjects ate each other.

The master assures us that we will continue once we find other suitable candidates. *************************************************************************************************** 191 | P a g e

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The Poem – Ana Coarasa Qui Natus Es Born Vivet Live Amare Love Morietur Die Ave atque vale Hail and farewell Story: “Ave atque vale” “H a i l a n d f a r e w e l l” It all revolves around it: The trees, the powers, the people.

Everything.

The Poem is the reason for everything…

When you’re born, The Poem is narrated to you and you choose a tree. Well, you choose a power but the trees stand for them. The trees are connected to the moon so how strong your power is, depends on how the moon acts the night you choose your power. If there’s a full moon, your power will be 2 times stronger; if there’s a blood moon, your power will be 5 times stronger and if there’s a blue moon, your power will be 10 times stronger.

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And let’s not begin to mention the planets...but more on that later!

The trees not only symbolize powers, but also life. They produce the oxygen we breath and, essentially, keep us alive. Trees are considered sacred where I come from. If you cut down a tree without permission from the Guard, you… well… I don’t really know. No one has cut down a tree without permission in centuries, maybe millennia. Silver birch trees stand for Water, Ash trees stand for Earth, Oak trees stand for Air and Sequoia trees stand for Fire. The most powerful of them all is fire.

Fire was at the beginning of everything, just like The Poem. They go hand in hand. You can’t have one without the other.

When I was born, The Poem was narrated to me and I chose. Normally, we only choose one power, but when I was born there was a sort of… miscalculation (Remember I said I’d come back to it?). You see, there was a rare planetary alignment happening and well… Turns out I got all 4 powers.

And that will definitely cause problems if anyone else finds out... ****************** “Hurry! We haven’t got much time!”

“Yes Mistress”

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

BEEp BEEP beep Another day; another terrible, terrible morning.

Wait.

That’s not my alarm.

Slam “SOFIA! Are you ok?”

“Yes dad I’m fine. What’s wrong” My dad’s an air. This means that he’s usually very calm and relaxed. Usually. But right now, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more worried.

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“But isn’t that wher-” “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“I’ll be down in 2 minutes; let me get dressed.”

Slam No No No No! This cannot be happening! Not there! Not now! That’s where the last remaining sequoia is! If anything happens to it… I don’t think we’ll make it through. You see… The sequoia is a very powerful tree because it keeps the rest of them in balance. Without the sequoia, the rest of the trees will start to take over each other and the war of the elements will resurface. ****************** “They’re almost here! Hurry!”

“I’m moving as fast as I can!”

“Well move faster!” ****************** I don’t know how and I don’t know why but whoever they are, they’re in the castle. I don't know what they want but if they're in level seven then they know what they're doing.

“Dad do you think they know what's down there?”

“I don't know Sof. But if they do… We're in very big trouble.”

Slam “I command you to st-” And that's when I saw it… And I realised, they knew exactly what they were doing.

The Sequoia was dead. Everything was grey. There was no bright colours in the room. There was just grey. ******************** “There's only one person capable of this. I'm really sorry dear” 194 | P a g e

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“Why?” “Because this was the making of your mother” I couldn't speak. All the sounds became nothing more than whispers. I couldn't hear anything. I was just me and my thoughts. And that's when I felt it. My powers! The war! The elements are of balance. The ground started shaking.

“Dad?” “Sofia listen to me. You're there only one that can stop this. You need to narrate the poem out loud. It's the only thing that can fix this.”

“Why me? Dad? Where are you going? DAD!” Slam “This isn’t real. I’m going to wake up because this is JUST A DREAM.” As I closed my eyes I tried to feel my powers. I couldn’t control them. The water was trying to take over but the wind kept stopping it. The earth kept forming into rocks and consuming all the air. But the air found a way out. The water went around the wind and hit the earth. But the earth stood its ground. Then all I felt was fire. Heat. Warmth. It was trying to keep me focused on one element so I could narrate the poem to end this war.

“Ok fine… I can do this.”

“Qui Natus Es” “B o r n” I started to narrate the poem.

“Vivet” “L i v e” The more I spoke, the more I hated myself.

“Amare” “L o v e” Because I started to realise that... by the end of this...

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“Morietur” “D i e” I’d be the only one left...

“Ave atque vale” “H a i l a n d f a r e w e l l” And then all I could see... was GREY.

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The Music Box – Yuna Han In loving memory of my great-grandmother. The words in italics are lyrics from Youth by Shawn Mendes Ft. Khalid. I simply felt that the words captured the inexpressible emotions that we all go through in our lives when faced with the loss of a loved one.

That was the start of the end.

The figures dressed in black, mixed in the palette with the purity of white roses.

Gray.

Empty. Hollow. Broken.

A bundle of flowers sits patiently as I slide out an innocent rose with my trembling hands. A tear let loose, trickling on the fragile petals.

“Y-you promised me th-that y-you w-wouldn’t leave m-me…” *** Today is the day.

I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life; I’m finally going to live the dream that I’ve always wanted.

As I slam the trunk of the car shut, I exhale, breaking free of the apprehension that fluttered inside of me. My parents come into focus; they look back at me with tears brimming their eyes.

I run to them and grasp them in my arms. All I can do is embrace them; I can almost feel their hearts breaking as they cling onto me. Tears of my own start to seep out of my eyes. Pulling back to see their saddened faces, I realise I forgot how difficult it would be to leave my one and only home.

“I’ll miss you. Thanks so much for everything.”

My dad purses his lips in a pained smile. He pats my back with his sturdy arms.

Flopping heavily onto the leather car seat, I close the car door. The wing mirror reflects my parents; my dad wraps his arm around my mum. She leans into his shoulder in sorrow.

Clutching the steering wheel in my hands, I step on the acceleration pedal.

This was it.

I am another step closer to my definition of freedom.

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This university was as breathtaking as I had imagined. Every detail of the school was tailored to perfection.

Carrying my hefty luggage, I shuffle my way to the dormitories. I drop the cardboard box; in fatigue, I collapse on the glazed wooden floor. Jerking myself upright, I rummage through it -- I remember I wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have much time until classes start.

Every object I take out makes way to a gadget; it reflects the blinding fluorescent lights. Holding it up to the light, I can barely make out the object covered in a blanket of dust.

The music box. *** I was five; I was a girl who knew nothing more than princesses, fairies, and ponies. I spent my days fiddling, scrutinizing, and frolicking with dolls -- the only thing keeping my desperate loneliness at bay. Being an only child was monotonous. The hungry mouth of the loneliness was on the verge of devouring me as a whole. Laying down on the cold and unforgiving marble floor, I knew I was no match with the boredom of being in solitude. Every interaction with a person triggered a spark in me.

But it was not long until my grandma moved in.

My grandma always sang me to sleep while embracing me in the comfort of her welcoming arms. She ran her fragile fingers through my long hair, and plaited it. I never figured out how she executed a Dutch braid with such precision.

For my fifth birthday, she gave me a music box gilded in gold, with a ballerina that turned with a perfect arabesque. Tracing my fingers over the intricate patterns, I looked in awe at the assembled pieces. Twisting the music box, it sang expressive notes; one after the other. The melody filled the room with bliss. I tightly grasp my grandmother in my arms; it was everything I could ever ask for.

My grandmother started to fall asleep; I just managed to pull the blankets over her shoulders with my petite body.

I returned back to my living room, continuing to fiddle with my favourite collection of Barbie dolls.

Little did I know of the fate that was laid out in front of me. ********************************

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It’s been three hours since she’s dozed off. The boredom is killing me.

Afraid to wake her up, I cautiously open the door.

I rock her gently, but there is no response.

“Grandma?”

Dead silence.

Shaking her again in hysteria, I let out an ear-piercing scream.

No. No. This can’t be. ********************************* I desperately twist the music box again, hoping for anything, something…

It does nothing but choke out the same melody in a flat tone.

Once a tear broke free, the rest surged in an unbroken stream.

My head spins in a whirlpool of emotions -- seeing her lifeless body in my arms sent a searing pain straight through my heart; I’m barely coping with holding the weight of the earth on my shoulders.

Pain, but I won’t let it turn into hate.

No, I won’t let it change me.

Never losing sight of the one I keep inside... *** Here I am, eighteen years old, crying with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

Her voice echoes in my head, reverberating off the insides of my skull.

“Promise me you’ll be okay when I leave this world. Remember that I’ll always be there for you.”

My heart is broken, but I keep going…

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True Love Waits – Handa Jung I woke up at 9 in the morning. Late even for someone like myself.

Leaving my apartment I walked to the supermarket. I knew I was destined to do something greater than what I was currently doing. I walked placing each step after step trying my hardest to fit my fat feet on the individual tile sparing each weed from my galactic fury.

I arrived at the entrance for my shift; something which frustrated me very much.

My manager was screaming at me again. Hollering.

“Get on your till, NOW! There are customers waiting!”

This made me disappointed. Very disappointed. I was a divine hero and she was ordering me around like a slave.

“Why do you slave yourself to such ogres?” It was not a realization of the self. The voice was sweet, divine and I knew it was damn right. I cursed at the manager and sprinted out of the godforsaken store flying at light speed to fight the emerging beasts outside. Grotesque creatures of every kind littered the streets resembling my human foes.

“You gave me 4 dollars in change.”

My left hand was stretched as leaned over the counter, at close proximity to her delicate neck.

“Sorry?” responded my throat.

“I paid 20 dollars for this.”

“Sorry.” I said in a less challenging voice.

“Gary!”, screamed my manager. My boss. My demon. My hands rolled together wet from the salty angry sweat I was dripping.

“I am so sorry.”

“No its fine. I am sure he was just having a bad day.”

Then the lady left before turning. And winking.

“You’re fired”, said my manager, simultaneously freeing my fate to my own hands.

My fists of fury met the hag’s cheeks in three masterful swings and she crumpled to the ground.

I mustered the most of my vocabulary and spat out words of cruel. Words of truth.

I flew out of the store like the wind. Passing through the obscure matter that littered the world.

I panted like a horse. And stopped. Then regained my powers and sprinted again. I panted like a horse again. And stopped.

“We are very evil and we will kill you!” shouted a monster resembling my manager.

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“Now you shall die!” screamed the monsters as they attempted to approach my great presence.

By the stomp of my foot the great armies divided and they shrank into ugly piles of dust where they once stood.

But there was no time and more demons emerged. Utilizing my super-sense and vision, I turned around and saw a blonde woman around the corner of my God-forsaken street. My mistress in distress.

Laughing children now passed me. And I felt ANGRY! I covered my bald spot with my cap and flew ready to meet my glory and destiny!

Flashing lights appeared from the left. Lazer beams of the enemy. I ran faster. An evil honk.

Sounding like the laugh of a mad cow. Faster. Faster. My flip flops fell to the ground. The creature appeared, angry eyes shining within its metallic shell.

From the right appeared the same creature but red. Then I saw my eyes blackening in front of me.

I was enslaved by the enemy. An evil nurse came over. A mirror. And I grabbed it with my left hand raising it to face. A long diagonal scar ran across my face. My eyes black. My jaw was shut with painful metal wires running in and out of them.

The nurse patted me in the back. I asked for the mirror again and as I stared into its infinite depths I saw Brad Pitt. Smiling.

An IV ran into my arm. Stealing my power. So I removed it.

A cast surrounded my ankles. Grabbing the fork of the poisonous meal, I released the string holding it together. The nurse came in again, her mouth wide, forming inaudible words. I, Brad Pitt shouted at her like a beast freed from confinement.

And I ran out of the room. Tripping, falling but persevering. Using my adopted hospital slippers, I sprinted again but this time out of the entrance falling over the many consecutive steps. Step 1, Step 2, Step 7, Step 20.

It was very exciting and I began running harder. The area I was in was rural and empty except for the sparkling hospital full of glass. Sprinting again, I ran at the speed of light to the city. It’s great silhouette resembling an evil grotto. After only a few minutes I was where I lay previously on the street.

“Hello?”, asked an enemy. He was motioning his fat ugly demonic hands. So was the demon behind him in another metallic beast. I grinded the sole my flip-flops on the asphalt awaiting battle.

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A man in neon green began approaching. My body pulsed ready for another fight. Another display of my immense power. And I sprinted once again at the speed of light onto the concrete pavement, the back of my flip-flops emulating the drumming of a great marching band.

I came to an army of similar metallic monster all made in different vibrant colours. And my shins were burning. I stooped low and navigated the enemy compound. “Hey!”, shouted a man.

I had run into him, my cover nearly blown. I had to save my damsel and destiny had told me her exact location.

Soon I arrived at an apartment. And I rang the bell for the 4th floor.

“Hello?”, enquired my damsel.

“I am here to rescue you”, I replied.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“What do you mean “what do you mean”? Are you not aware of the monsters trying to kill us?”

“No.” “What is wrong with you? I love you and that is why I came to save you so that I can bring you to the resistance base”, I shouted.

“This is bizarre. Who are you?”

“I am Brad Pitt, saviour of the universe,” I said triumphantly.

“No you aren’t.” She smirked.

“No time for words. I am coming to rescue you whether you like it or not.” I said as I kicked the front door.

“I am going to call the police”, said my damsel and before I could warn her she disconnected.

I cursed. The front door was impenetrable.

I sprinted around the palace faster than Hermes and saw a fire-escape with the corner and discovered a vast maze, stretching far into the heavens. I jumped up like an acrobat and grasped onto the cold metallic platform. It creaked under my weight like a shrieking monster.

Several flights of stairs lined the building. I sprinted up knowing time was vital and precious.

The window was locked. Those heinous men knew I was coming. I rolled my hand into a fist and using the power of a thousand suns, I blasted the window off of its frame.

I stared into my fist of fury. It was radiating with heat as red power flew of my knuckles.

I landed on a large rug but rolled further into a Chinese vase. It cracked. It must have alerted the enemy.

“Hey!”, shouted a female voice.

It was the voice of my damsel as she came running towards me.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

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“We must escape through the window”, I said, refusing to look into the eyes of my untrusting princess.

“What the heck are you talking about? Are you out of your mind? Who the heck are you? I am going to call the police?”

I remembered the back alley I had used to enter this cursed prison and went to the window.

Four flights of rusty stairs littered the way into the cement.

“We have to jump from the window!”, I shouted.

I was no longer trying to be stealthy.

“I will jump first and catch you.”

“What? No! What are you talking about?”

“We have to escape from the monsters trying to catch us.”

I smiled at her reassuringly. She was obviously in shock.

“It’s ok. I can survive that fall. I have special superpowers for that.”

I leaned onto the frame of the window, peering at the wobbly ground.

I stared into her wide and worried eyes.

And, I winked with my remaining eye. ******************** “What opiates is he on?”

“Strong morphine. We had to switch from the codeine when he started screaming last week.”

A man sat on a leather medical chair bounded by the many belts that pressed into his lifeless limbs. His eye was open, high from the opiates and looking so curiously at the bland cement walls that lined the gray asylum.

“What is his diagnosis?”

“Severe schizophrenia. There are no medical records. He never seemed to have been diagnosed. And severe internal bleeding. Especially in his head. We don’t expect more than 2 weeks.”

They turned their attention towards the injured man. His legs were amputated, and bone fractures were too common along his arms. Even for surgery. His eyes twitched and as indicated by the curve of his bleeding mouth, he was having a good time. A very good time.

He opened his mouth and an unpleasant cough was followed by nonchalant singing. “.....Breathe Keep breathing Don't lose Your nerve…. Sing us a song, a song to keep us warm….” **************************** I woke up from my deep unconsciousness and looked around. My love was holding my hand, smiling. We had made it. The scenery surrounding us was mesmerizing. A river competed with 203 | P a g e

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us in our train. And as I turned my vision I saw hundreds of people smiling. Smiling at me. I had two eyes. We were headed towards paradise.

I took another sniff of glory and closed my eyes. I was with my people, and a triumphant piece of music played in my head. An appropriate song to end.

My great story.

My great legend.

My great myth. ******** *******************

“.... Breathe Keep breathing Don't lose Your nerve…. Sing us a song, a song to keep us warm….”

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Her Last Shout Out – Kristen Cho Inspired by : http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3550454/Don-t-let-Judge-reunitesmiddle-school-classmate-s-released-jail-recognized-appeared-court.html Bang Bang.

As I hit the gavel on the desk, someone cries with happiness or anxiety. It is my job to hit the gavel every day, based on my own decision. With one pounding of my hammer, someone’s life will change. This large duty always filled my day with gray emotions.

But, today was a day with yellow and orange. Today was my daughter's birthday… her first birthday.

“Happy Birthday dear Cecilie, Happy birthday to -” Suddenly, uncomfortable and despondent noise urgently disturbed my ear. The phone was ringing and the court’s number popped up on cell phone. I didn’t want to be a mom absent for her child’s first birthday party. But my hand was already reaching the cell phone.

“Hello…?” I spoke in an undertone.

It was an emergency call.

After few minutes, I was in a court holding the gavel. The judge for today’s court was having an emergency surgery. I was the only one available to pronounce his written verdict. I had no choice, as otherwise some trials could not be concluded; the guilty would escape or money would be wasted for a longer trial. Moreover, I already knew that I could have additional pay from the trial today!

As I entered the breathless court, everyone glanced at me and there was nothing but silence. As usual, my shoulders were shaking uncontrollably and I was constantly wiping my hands down my trousers.

After the long silence, a woman with handcuffs came into the court.

Suddenly, something was hovering inside my head as if I was hypnotized by someone. I shook my head to get back to the proceedings.

ABBY ANDERSON!!??

Oh Lord, I cannot continue this trial… but I must… I only have to read out the verdict and punishment. I can do it.

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But should I? Should I even be here judging someone that I used to love?

-> -> -> -> -> -> “The two hardest things I can say are hello and good bye… Good bye, my friend,” said Abby, when she left me 20 years ago.

It was the last thing that she said to me and she vanished. Why? I don’t know. She was a special friend of mine. “Special” in a good way. We cried, laughed, and did everything together and she suddenly just... disappeared.

Ever since she abandoned me, I had to cry, laugh, and do everything alone and now, she was standing right in front of me.

And I knew that she was about to die.

-> -> -> -> -> -> “Your Honor? Please give the judgement.”

My heart turned into gray. Dark gray.

I remembered a lecture when I was a law school student. The professor told us, “Even though a convict is someone we know, we should not make a judgement in favor of the convict. In fact, we are supposed to recuse ourselves from trying a person we know”.

But I can't do this. Once, she was my dearest friend so I couldn't let her face the grim reaper.

NEVER. If I lied… if I saved her… she would be able to catch the next flight to Mexico, before the real judge reported my error. Yes, I would lose everything. Everything but HER. “In...in...

“Guilty! I am guilty” Finally, Abby slowly lifted up her head. I was so apprehensive that she might not recognize me so I wiped my sweating hands. But she did. And that is why she told the truth. She tried not to look at me. Her tears started to escape from her beautiful, blue eyes. Even though there were many people raising their hands and shouting with anger, Abby and I were busy wiping our tears.

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My emotions were collapsing and I was screaming towards the ceiling with no sound.

-> -> -> -> -> -> Abby was thinking...

Why… Why are you ...

Why are you being so kind, every time?

She wanted to yell out loud to Kacy.

She was always like this. Always…

-> -> -> -> -> -> After the trial, I had to drink litres of water and calm myself down. However, Abby’s depressing face was still hovering inside my head. I started to regret coming to this trial today. Even though there were worse trials, I think this one was the hardest in my entire life.

Due to the chaos in my head, I was not able to go to the court again. Then, I heard that Abby was going to have the lethal injection in two days.

“NO,” I shouted out loud in my head!

I entered the execution room: no peace, no happiness, just a gray atmosphere.

“Why are you my friend?” I asked Abby.

Abby stared at me for a brief moment.

“You know why…” Abby answered.

Then she was gone. Gone to meet the grim reaper.

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Motivation - Lovro Golley and Martin Kim(HS) I felt as if the world had crumbled and ceilings were tumbling down as I wrapped my hands around my mother...

“How are we going to move on?” I queried as the sorrow travelled throughout my body.

Bittersweet tears trickled down my face as if a tap was almost closed yet still had those few drips left… I have never felt agony like this, and that went the same for my family of what used to be five.

“We are going to get through this love, I am with you,” my Mom replied as she tried to comfort me despite the fact she immensely needed that comfort…

One day earlier…

It was what seemed to be a normal day, the birds were chirping and the bright sun struck like a baseball in a homerun. I put my coffee in the Dolce Gusto machine with my normal dose of BBC news in the background. Life was good, yet things can go from top to bottom in a matter of seconds…

As I sipped on my hot coffee, I glanced over at the TV showing the news. It was at this moment that one of the worst days of my life came to existence.

“Heroic man saves child's life in house fire” the news title read.

A second after I read this I get a call from my older brother in California.

The 3 minutes passed and we ended the call, 3 minutes that felt like eternity. Tears started to stream down my face as I remembered every single memory of my beloved father… It was as if I was in a never-ending nightmare, only this time it’s real life. I already missed my “daddy” more than anything. My last words to him were, “Be careful, I love you.”

At least I told him my love before he had to go I thought to myself, as I tried to take a positive from this whole experience.

Weeks upon weeks passed as the sun rose and the birds chirped. A new chapter of my life has come to a start. It was as if I was in a gray area… One that I never dreamt of, yet had to face.

The sun shone bright into my face as I lay in my bed with deep thoughts about what just happened. I didn’t talk to anyone, despite the fact that I wanted to express my every emotion.

All my memories with my father flashed through my mind, I wanted to scream and cry and let out all my anger and sorrow, yet, I sat there and just gazed upon the football. The football my father gave me when I was 7. The football I have had for 11 years. That Nike premier football had meant the world to me when I was young. It taught me a lot of life lessons along the way.

The most important is to not give up no matter how hard it gets. This is exactly what I am going to do right now…

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As I glanced upon my beloved football, I made the best decision of my life… I vowed to try my hardest to not let his passing affect me - to make it motivate me. My daddy was always proud of me, always by my side, he was always supporting in sport and everything I had tried in life.

This was my chance to shine, this is my motivation, and I will try my hardest to fulfill our lifelong dream of becoming a pro.

“I will, I can” I told myself as I held back my tears…. *knock, knock* My mum tapped on my door, as she asked how I was doing.

I quickly wiped away all my tears in a matter of seconds.

“Come in mum,” I replied as I sat on my bed.

“Hey honey, are you doing alright?”

“It could be better, but I’m hanging in there,” I answered.

The seconds turned into minutes, and I just broke down… Every emotion imaginable whizzed through my body as if an emotional spell had been casted upon me. My tears were flowing as, my mum wrapped her hands around me.

“We are going to get through this love, I am with you,” my Mom replied as she tried to comfort me despite the fact she immensely needed that comfort…

As the minutes turned into hours, and the hours into days, my love for my father grew… Yet, so did my desire and drive to becoming the best I could be! It’s crazy how much you can miss someone, yet it's not so good when you cannot see them…

The months went on, my life went on, school went on. However, something just wasn't right…

It was as if I wasn’t doing enough, despite the fact that I had been trying my best, my inner determination wanted more and more and more from me… I had told this to my friends, yet all they did was gasp in shock as according to them: “You’re overworking as it is!”

I couldn’t give myself any props for what I was doing. All I wanted was to do more and more and more… It was as if I was in a never ending maze.

The weeks passed by like a basketball swishing through the net, and the football tryouts were coming nearer and nearer. I had practiced for 6 months nonstop, put in my blood, sweat and tears for this. I would not be denied…

The day came… My life’s work was on the line, and so was my pride. I went into this with one goal and one goal only. To WIN… I heard the family chants behind me in a muffled sound as I focused on the play of the game. The opposition kept on aggressively kicking from behind as the ref didn’t watch, however, I did NOT give up… I would NOT give up anymore. I fought back and all my fury and sorrow from his passing went into this one game, it was as if he was right there in the stands cheering me on. The presence of his soul was very present.

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My legs were nonexistent at the halftime point, however the sheer drive and determination carried me through one step at a time. The minutes passed and so did the sweat, although, my playing didn’t change up for the better… The game was beginning to end and the pressure of performing was really starting to get me. Yet, out of the sheer blue, the ball flew from the opposition and bounced to my feet. My heart sank as the rain poured and the slippery surface of the ball was rolling to me.

“Should I shoot or pass?” I thought to myself as my team shouted at me to do something.

I made my choice, I was going to shoo- …

My foot slipped and so did our possession of the ball.

The other team raced up the other side and slotted one goal in the bottom right corner. Agony struck me like a bolt of lightning, I felt as if the world had shattered to pieces once again… This was my chance to shine and prove myself but I completely blew it! I punched the soggy mud in frustration and felt the lump in my throat starting to act up. My teammates told me to get up and move on. They acted as if it was fine, yet, I am not stupid. I saw their faces and how much they were trying to hide their disappointment in me…

The whistle blew and the chilly wind breezed past my wet clothes. My mother greeted me with a warm hug and a wave of support came from my family coming there to watch me. Both my siblings came to watch me play and this meant the world to me. Days passed and I anxiously awaited the email that certified my arrival at the club and passing of the tryouts for it. I didn’t sleep much nor did I eat… This meant the world to me and I couldn’t wait any longer for the news.

11:59 pm. 21 November 2017. 1 minute until my fate was decided. 1 minute until my big day. 2 minutes passed and my heart rate went up by the second. For a split moment I had thought that my dreams were crushed… I lay down on my bed with my whole family around me. The ambience of the room quickly went down as the chances didn’t look so good for me. This all however changed as my phone rang and the whole room gasped in surprise.

“Hello?” I answered, as my heart galloped through my chest.

“Congratulations! You have officially made the Chelsea F.C U18 academy! Your chances of turning pro are inevitable right now! We are very happy to have received a player of your ability and we believe you are a key asset due to your skill and most importantly the motivation you showed in the tryouts!” the coach exclaimed in excitement!

“I-I-I can’t explain how much this means to me… I have worked so hard for this and I won't let you down” I muttered as the joy buzzed through me for the first time in a very long time.

“Good to hear young chap, now get some sleep!” The coach told me as he hung up the phone.

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I slowly put down my phone besides my desk and I was greeted with a rapturous round of applause and support from my family. My lifelong dream had just come into existence and I could not have done it without him. I will play for him and I will not let him down, as I know he is watching down on me.

To be continuedâ&#x20AC;Ś

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The Right Move? – Brian Han 10 April 2036 For the past 2 and a half years I had gone through a living hell… My ex-wife had cheated on me with some random guy just because he earned 6 digits a year; and the worst part is that it’s not just her who hates me!

Even my family has shunned me like a stray dog… just worse...

Ever since 5th grade, I was considered a loner because I was Asian! I looked Asian but I wasn’t Asian, my parents had moved here when I was 2 years old; they came to start again in the “star spangled country”.

***************************** “You will love America!”, “Mama, please tell me what is in America!” An excited, overjoyed 6-year-old me squealed.

“We could be rich just like in the movies! There are plenty opportunities there!”

“Yayyy”

Little did I know they were just empty promises…

***************************** “Shut up, you filthy piece of &#$! Go home and eat more dogs!”

Being stuffed in my locker was like second nature. Whenever I informed my mom about the bullying she simply answered with a “Suck it up, in the future they will be a nobody. Sooner or later you will be the one shouting at them for not doing their work.”

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Who would have expected them to become successful, inspirational businessmen or acknowledged American footballers? Whereas I’m a guy in his mid-30s working at Taco Bell for 8 bucks per hour...

Currently, my 3 credit cards are maxed out and I owe the bank what might as well be a 1 million dollars; I would need to work nonstop for 9 years straight, all week just to be able to make up for the debt…

I struggle to even go to bed with a full stomach…

“Justin, you owe 100 bucks for child support, you loser”, my ex yells down the phone.

“Just give me time!”

“I already gave you 9 years to sort your life out!”

“Just… please… give me more time!”

“You know what, I don’t care if we get divorced! I’m going to leave you for someone who HAS sorted his life out!”

“You used to love me!”

“Oh no! You have actually lost your mind!”

“NO! I… I just wanted to sa-”

End of call.

Calling 202-555-0180…

You have been blocked by this number…

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

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Baltimore Bridge… Slowly and carefully, I climbed onto the railing…

The howling of the wind seems to reflect my emotions into nature…

The bank in the distance reminds me of where my parents thought I would work - instead I would end up serving the other workers $3 tacos for lunch.

There is only one way out of this...

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Grey Area- Gali Dekel It happened merely a year ago...

Last year, I started to get sick. At first, it was just another fever for a couple of days, nothing to worry about, nothing serious, since it happened before and I got over it. Of course being sick isn’t fun, however, it is normal for kids to get ill especially during winter. I went back to school and everything was alright, until…

One day I noticed I had tiny red spots on my arm. I was very optimistic at the time so I thought, “Oh well, that’s just a small rash.”

But it wasn’t.

The tiny red spots started to appear everywhere, on every inch of my body. Then I knew something was wrong. Being an overprotective mom, she was so overwhelmed and took me to the doctor immediately. I was agitated, thinking it was just your typical rash, But it wasn’t.

The doctors came out of the room and their eyes were looking down. They discovered that I had the worst of all. Leukemia. Leukemia is blood cancer: one of the most severe cases. I just had no words! All I could do was enter my room, drag my legs on the ground and look down in sorrow. Sobbing, the tears like rain could fill my room. And my face looked like I hadn’t slept for weeks. Fiercely, I threw myself on the bed, putting my hands on my head and crying, for the fourth time this week. The news destroyed me and I still feel destroyed.

“What did I do wrong, why do I deserve this?”

I started the treatment and radiation; it’s been two months since then. Now the doctors are saying I will be fine in the end, and to have hope.

“How long will it take my body to recover?” I politely asked one of them.

“It will take a while,” he sighed, “the key is to be patient and not to worry.”

NOT worry? How can I NOT be worried? Every fibre of my being cried, screamed, yelled, begged. But it didn’t solve the problem. I still had cancer and that was final. Since then, I have been crying my eyes out every single night, hoping for a miracle to save me…

One day in the hospital, I saw little bits of my hair starting to fall out. When one of the doctors came in the room I… I just HAD to ask.

“What’s happening to my hair?” My voice was shaking.

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“This is happening because of the chemotherapy treatment you are going through; your hair will keep falling out until the treatments are done.” He answered calmly and rushed out of the room.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did! What else was going to happen to me? I was slowly falling apart. If my mum wasn’t there, it would have been so difficult to go to sleep every night, when my eyes were red and the tears were falling like a waterfall. At that point, I saw no reason to keep myself going through all of that irritating sickness. I was furious, mournful and heartbroken - disbelieving the doctors that I was going to survive it.

Cancer…

The doctors finally dismissed me from the hospital for one weekend. Even though I was home, I had to take an infusion with me. Great! Another reason to remind me of the sickness. During the weekend, I had some time to myself, and started thinking about my aunt. My aunt went through the same illness and cancer that I got, however, the end of her story wasn’t good and she did not win the war. Since then, I always thought about how one thing can change your life in a matter of seconds, but I never even in my worst nightmares, thought it would ever get to me. I was stuck in this awful grey area, not knowing what to do with myself.

I couldn't keep pretending I was happy every time I was with my family; I couldn’t keep smiling when I saw my best friend. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I was upset. I decided to finally say something, “Mum I CANNOT take this I just want this to be over!”

“I know you do, and it will, but you have to be patient. Trust me I understand” “NO YOU DON'T!” I shouted at her, and then started crying.

“Come here honey, I love you and I promise everything is going to be okay.” She was hugging me with her soft hands.

The following Monday, I was sent back to the hospital, and the check-ups kept going. One day during that week, the doctors said to me “Hey, you can go outside today! You might want to go to the hospital’s park it is very nice but come back in an hour and a half” I sighed and answered quietly “Okay, thank you”.

That’s when everything: the sadness, anger, depression, all came to me at once and… **************************************8 What they don't know is that I wasn’t going to come back! I’m DONE! I can’t deal with this anymore!

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No Gray Area – Jason Jin

(With apologies to the writer of ‘Gold’)

On January 24th,1848, someone, somewhere in California found gold in the ground.

As this news spread, more than 300,000 people were attracted to go there to try to find the gold. These early gold seekers drove across America in large wagons and they experienced many challenges on their dangerous journey.

Yes, it was the California Gold Rush.

Consequently, Los Angeles grew from a little village to one of the biggest cities in America. Originally, it was just barren land; just a gray area. It was always gray: nothing had lived there before. Not even any plants because the soil was too poor.

This place would always be “gray” ... until the news of gold. And then...

Thousands of gold miners arrived. Everyone tried to find the gold, digging as deep as they could.

Peter was one of the gold seekers who had been digging this infertile land for more than three months.

He was desperate to find something; even a little gold would suffice. Unfortunately, he found nothing.

Having spent nearly all his money, he was ready to give up and leave next day.

On his last night, he slept in this gray area but it started to rain. As it was raining cats and dogs, it was too heavy to leave.

It kept on raining.

It rained for three days.

Eventually, the rain stopped. The soil had been soaked and there was already some soft, green grass growing there. It made Peter think…

“The soil could actually be very good here. I could grow some flowers and sell them to the rich people who have found gold. After a few more years, perhaps I would be wealthy, too?”

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A GRAY AREA So, he bought the seed and started to grow flowers: snow-white lilies; rich, red peonies; and delicate, yellow primroses. After two years, the soil had produced some incredibly beautiful flowers which he thought people would be eager to buy.

After a little cleaning and altering of his hut, Peter's flower shop officially opened.

The first day, no one came.

The second day, no one came.

After one week after, no one came, and his flowers were starting to wither.

After Peter went to the restaurant to eat lunch, he was walking back to his little hut and, besides the road, he saw a little sad girl crying. Her clothes were all dirty and she seemed like she had lost her family.

Out of kindness, Peter brought her back to his home and let her wash up. Despite being very poor, he bought some bread and clothes for her. But the little girl was still very sad, so he went back to the farmland where he grew the flowers. He chose a gorgeous lily and brought it to the little girl. Finally, the little girl stopped crying.

The girl told him her name and so Peter made posters saying where to find her and put them up around the town.

The next day, a very rich man visited his flower shop and when the little girl saw him, she ran and hugged him and excitedly shouted, “Dad! Dad! You have finally come!”

After making sure the little girl hadn’t been hurt, the rich man walked over to Peter: “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life. If you hadn’t helped her, I would not have known where to find her.”

“It’s my pleasure,” replied Peter.

“As a reward, I will give you 10 thousand dollars.”

“No, no, no, it’s ok. If you really want to reward me then buy some flowers, please.”

So, the rich man bought lots of flowers and went home with his daughter.

As the news of Peter’s kindness was spread, more and more people came to buy flowers from him.

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A GRAY AREA After 5 years, he became the richest man in that place. He said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;I made my fortune here - so everyone can find a way to do the same. If you are willing to be diligent and put in the effort, then the wealth of others will be shared with you forever!â&#x20AC;?

Gray area? No, there is no gray area. At least, not in my story.

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Unfolding Memories – Annette Lee Emptiness…

Desolation…

Meaninglessness…

That was the grey spot. It was a deserted piece of territory in the forsaken, blank abyss. The loneliness swiveled around my body and softly tickled my spine. I shivered. What is this place?

Why is it here? My eyes scavenged around quick as a mouse to search for people, but no one was there. I swear I was somewhere else before, somewhere with people… Somewhere that isn’t…

This...

The only thing that existed in this universe was a bland, grey spot on the floor. I become worried, my heart beat menacingly. I felt like it was trying to force itself out of my ribcage.

Why are you so useless?

My foot trembled agonized by what would happen if I stepped foot into the unknown, (well there was nowhere to go anyways). What could be the worse that would happen? I tried to step in but yet, I couldn’t. My body was fighting against my brain - it was shrieking, ‘Turn back!’ I resisted and strained against my body until finally... It let loose; it felt like a blast of wind pushed me towards the grey circle. I slumped onto the sector.

Why aren’t you like your older siblings?

Nothing happened…

But as I struggled to stand up, something clamped onto my wrist. Frightened, I exclaimed as my frail brain managed to take in what was happening. It appeared to be in the figure of a hand, it had a withering aura around it. My grasp onto the ground trembled in fear of what was going to happen. It snapped, the disfigured hand seized me and dragged me into the grey area. My bones began to bend in all various ways as I fell into the sinkhole beneath me, I didn’t understand what was going on! What was this? It felt… New. I felt lighter and lighter as I fell into the void. Not puking was a real challenge - my vision began to fuzz out like a broken screen TV. I wondered how much longer I was going to plunge into this unclear hole. Colours began to vibrate intensely around my vision. The circular vision around me then transformed into static motion and everything was chaotic. Slowly, the surroundings around me merged in with this calm aura - The world began to drown into a pastel pink colour. - It was relaxing and soothed me - the pressure loosened as I fell into a pool of transparent, pastel colours.

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You matter...

But then...

I felt the cold, hard ground. Never had I ever felt so happy to feel the Earth. I hugged it tightly, then I stood looking downwards. I realized that I was back at the grey spot again. What? That word rang inside my head like an enormous gong. How did this make sense? I just fell in it a minute ago! But then I closely inspected the spot as the grey started to fade away, getting replaced with green. I jolted back, wondering what sorcery was used to do this. As I touched the green spot something went through me. A sense of feeling and that feeling wrapped me warmly.

It was an emotion I thought I would never feel. It felt so good, it made me want to try more. But before I could move - POP. I appeared in a classroom. This all seemed so familiar, but then at the same time, I couldn’t figure out where I was or the people around me. I tried interacting with a small shy girl in the corner, yet when I placed my hand on her it sank through. Wait, this doesn’t make any sense! Hold on, is that me? It was, another me walking past a horde of other people, others seemed to be surrounding me.

I looked so happy.

However, before I could walk towards myself my mind transitioned into another setting. This time the area was dark and shabby, I took a glance around and stared at my other self-coming through the door in an annoyed and frightened manner. I was so happy just a few seconds ago, what happened? Abruptly I heard loud shouting in another room, the other me seemed terrified and attempted to head upstairs before being seen by what seemed to be a very upset looking drunkard shouting at someone. The person he was shouting to looked frail and meek, but before I could see any other features the screaming man glanced behind him with a grimacing look. The other me seemed to notice that and let out a little squeak then tripped and stumbled while attempting to climb up the stairs, the drunkard seemed to be upset about that fact and chased the other me while violently swinging a bottle in his hand

“GET BACK HERE!” I followed the two up the staircase and I saw in the corner of a room, my clone pale and shivering. The alcoholic man towered over him, he raised his bottle and…

SMASH! I woke up with a shock in my body, I panicked and turned my head right and left to see that I was in a hospital. That’s weird, I looked at my hand to see that I was hooked up with painkillers.

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I decided to move around a bit, and so I did I walked towards my dorm door and took a small look outside. I saw a tall slim doctor arguing with what seemed to be a worried mother.

“I promise. I won’t let him near her again…”

The doctor sighed and placed his clipboard on a shelf and left. I squinted at the clipboard to try and make out what it said, I couldn’t see everything but I managed to figure out this: diagnosed with Amnesia.

I giggled. That’s a funny word. I wonder what it could mean...

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Who am I? – Victoire Juery Just an ordinary girl living an ordinary life and having ordinary friends. That’s who I am.

Or is it?

All my ideals came crashing down to the floor: the ones I’ve sacrificed so much for, the ones I still persevere to carry through even through the darkest of times, when I heard three words.

You. Are. Adopted.

These three words have been eating me away, more and more recently.

I’ve been living with these people for as long as I can remember. When they finally broke the news to me, with a: “You are adopted!”

In the most enthusiastic way humanly possible, as if every great thing in this universe has just presented themselves before everyone! I was utterly overwhelmed, my brain not being able to process nor match the tone of their voice with what just left their mouths…. Wait what? I was told that I was left at their doorstep when I was really young. To be honest, I am quite grateful for what I have, because at least there is someone that cares for me. But their words left me with an inevitable question that lingered in my mind, following me everywhere after this...

Who am I? “I’m what?” I howled, “How dare you keep a secret from me for so long?”

I can see tears in my so-called mother’s eyes. I thought that she had cared for me but it doesn’t look like it now. I felt no guilt as I watched her pale eyes fill with glistening tears. I don’t care how my father gives me the look that makes you feel small. I really don’t care. All I want is to find my home.

I scoot up to my...well my simulated room.

“Nothing belongs to me” I shrieked, “who am I?” It’s lurid when I pause the flooding of my eyes. I think of the ways I can escape this fake house to find my real family and who I really am. I am thinking of how I was left and why they left me here alone. I escalade down my window to meet the grey cobblestones that look as grey as my life. I abscond through the gloomy streets to find a cramped window that I could probably fit in. I stay in this miniscule room and think to myself this is better than what people call ‘home.’

Then suddenly this ancient voice appears through the vague room.

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“What are you doing here you fledgling?” she bellowed “I well I just came for some um...shelter.” I panicked “My name is Margaret why don't you come on in?” Margaret bellowed, “follow me.”

I falter for a moment in case of her being a kidnapper but her soft blue eyes and her homey smell made me want to follow her. She leads me to a welcoming room and on the rosette wall a structured frame covered in family photos that look vintage stood. I think to myself how can someone who is not family be so nice to you?

It was like she read my mind when she exclaimed, “If you don't have anywhere to stay I have a room for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate your offer,” I thankfully replied I follow her through the dark shadows of the night and walk past a clear beige door with a name carved in it. I wonder what it's for? We carry on walking to the allied walls and enter an aged room with a hardwood table adjacent to the rusty old bed.

“Here you are. If you need anything else, I am in the opposite room and... please don't make any noise.” she replied.

“Thank you for lending me this room it really is nice of you and I wish you good night” Margaret disappeared into the dark and I waited for her bedroom door to click before I got undressed and ready for bed.

It felt like hours since I had been lying and staring into space. There was nothing for me to do and I was absolutely exhausted but I still couldn't find a comfortable position. I decided to go get myself a cup of water. As I crept through the dark corridor, I walked past the room I had crossed by earlier. I softly ran my hand through the carved words and without thinking my hand reached for the knob and a blaring high pitched sound fills the house. Margaret’s door suddenly flew open and she shouted: “What are you doing” “I...I just wanted to see what was I here” “I whispered” “That room is private and I told you to wake me up if you wanted something” “Look I just wanted to get some water and I thought it was that way to the kitchen “ “Why didn't you just ask?”

“Don't you get it? My parents left me and I have just run away I feel so small.” I explained, “All I wanted was a happy life but now that I know that I'm adopted, no one will accept me.”

I started crying again.

“Look, I’m sorry dear but you will have to accept life. Things happen all the time like milk and cookies but there will always be a problem in life but you just have to accept it.”

She led me to her comforting couch and brought some tray with some milk and cookies.

“Oh, I almost forgot the tea. One moment please. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t know you ran away but you know your foster parents have brought you up and cared for you, given you food and a room…. maybe you should be nicer.”

“I know, but you don't understand! You are just a nice old woman.”

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“How dare you say that to me...and for your information I do understand. Maybe your parents left you but my son died when he was 3 and at least I let you stay here so you should just keep QUIET!” “I’m so sorry miss I really didn’t mean to...”

She cut through my sentence.

“It doesn’t matter! Kids should really start thinking… they are always on their screens! Now you better go to sleep now before I rip you to pieces and do not say another word” These words had shut me up and I did not talk for the night and I went straight away to bed. I thought through her words over and over again. They really hurt me but did I hurt her with that much negligence? The next morning, I decided to apologize so I woke up in the shimmering light of the morning to get some flowers. There was only small piece of sunlight left when she woke up. She asked me, “Do you know why I let you stay in my house?”

I replied “No? Why?” “Because, when my son died, I learned how people should love each other even though something is bothering them and even though it is hard you should still love one another.”

“I understand how you feel and I just think you should say sorry. Maybe you should go back and just try and tell them how you feel and that you are sorry and tell the world what I did and I want you to do the same when you are older. Now go! Go tell them how you feel. They will understand.”

“Thank you, Margaret. Thank you.”

“Don't waste your time. Just go!” She desperately exclaimed.

It took me some time to orientate to my house. I felt scared of my parents not accepting me and that I was sorry but what if they left me alone.

What if…

The lights were dim when I entered so I slowly went to my room that I weirdly missed so much.

I slowly dozed off and awoke to the sound of the birds chirping in the distance. I got dressed and went to tell my parents that I loved them and that I was sorry. They asked me “Why are you sorry?”

It took me time to realize why they asked me that question. It was only when I realized that they did not know that I left and that they still felt that I was in their hearts with me and so now I am happy there is someone who cares for me and if anyone tells me who are you I tell them I am the child of my parents who made me like you and who gave me a life.

It has been a long time since I ran away so I decided to go take a small walk to Margaret’s house but there was nothing to be seen. Had she moved? I tried asking the neighbours but all they told me was that Margaret had left when her son died 3 years ago...Had I been dreaming? Was she my guardian angel helping me through my hard times? There is no more time for me to worry because: Now I know who I am.

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The Wicked Queen from Snow White – Joanna Jung We all know the story of Snow White, from once upon a time: the beautiful princess with a face as pale as the snow and hair as dark as the night sky. Her wicked stepmother feared that her beauty would suppress her own. Therefore, she ordered the huntsman to kill her and bring her heart. However, instead of bringing the heart of this beauty, he let her go and brought the queen a heart of a pig.

Snow White escapes to the house of the seven dwarfs and lives with them. Soon, the queen finds out that the Huntsman did not kill Snow White and she is living with seven dwarfs.

Therefore, she prepares a poisonous apple, which Snow White takes a bite of and “dies”. She comes back later on, by the kiss of the prince and the queen dies from falling off the cliff. Snow White and the prince lived happily ever after.

Happily ever after...?

But… what if the wicked queen wasn’t actually wicked?

All children have a prejudice regarding a beautiful princess, handsome prince and wicked queen or a stepmother, not knowing the background story of the evil character. But what if the wicked queen was the innocent one?

Did anyone realize that Snow White’s evil queen had a name: Queen Grimhilde?

Serena Grimhilde was not always so evil and inhumane, nor did she care about her appearance or being the fairest of all. She was the daughter of Sir Grimhilde of the House of Saminar, the most powerful family. Therefore, she frequently followed her father to the royal palace and played with the two princes. Her appearance wasn’t necessarily beautiful, but it was surely attractive and possibly cold. In one sight, everyone knew that she was the daughter of House Saminar. She had a pale face, red lips, emerald green eyes, deep black eyelashes and sharp eyebrows. She had all she wanted: ‘satisfied with what she had’, was what she said, but no one is satisfied with what they have. She wanted more, more wealth, more power. And there were the two princes that she was incredibly close with.

It wasn’t that difficult for Sir Grimhilde to arrange a marriage with Prince John Leopald, since his family was the most powerful out of all other families and had the most royal blood in it.

Serena expected the prince to love her. She thought that they were meant for each other and her family thought so too.

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Soon, not even a week was left till Serena’s wedding day. The whole country was excited about the marriage between the first prince of King Leopald and the first child of Sir Grimhilde. Serena was excited too, of course; she imagined her being the beautiful woman in the world on her wedding night.

Two days were left until the wedding. The preparation finished earlier than she thought it would and Serena was extremely bored. Bored enough for this woman who had no talent for fitness to stand up and take a walk in the stunning garden of the palace. She walked by the delicate sunflowers, bloody red roses, and lovely daisies. There were also some white flowers that she had never even heard the name of. She walked and walked until there were no more flowers to keep her interested. Instead, the dazzling sun covered itself with the humongous red and orange leaves of the forest trees and the tweeting birds flew away from her.

There, she heard noises from a woman and a man, which sounded very familiar to her. As she saw their appearance, she almost tripped backward and broke her skull. Her fiancé, the man she was going to marry, the man she lived for, was holding hands with another woman (who she also found familiar) and talking, laughing, smiling… Lady Valentina.

That was who she was. She was well- known for her kindness and elegant appearance. ‘How long were they together for?’, ‘How do they know each other?’, ‘Does he love her?’, ‘Why are they together?’... Various questions popped up in her mind. Her undefeatable curiosity told her to go and join them, but her self-esteem disagreed.

‘It’s okay. If only I…don’t tell this to anyone, nothing would happen and we would still get married.’ Serena thought.

She hadn’t liked Lady Valentina from the first time they met. It was at a party near the palace when Lady Valentina spilled water on herself and said Serena threw a glass of water at her for no reason. The people around the two girls didn’t know them, so they made a quick decision based on the girls’ appearance. Of course, they thought Lady Valentina, Little Miss Sunshine, was innocent and Serena threw the water at her. From that day, poor Lady Grimhilde’s nickname became ‘the rude princess’.

‘Only one more day to go!’

Serena woke up with positivity the next day, which didn’t last even an hour. Someone was knocking on her door, so early in the morning.

“Come in.” She said.

“Lady Serena Grimhilde”

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A man with his whole face showing depression and anger walked in.

“Yes. That’s me. Who are you?” Serena answered as politely as she could.

“I am a messenger from King Leopald and he wanted me to share a very unfortunate news with you.” He said with a shaking voice.

Serena nodded slowly. ‘How can anything be worse.’ She thought. “...Prince John Leopald ran away from the palace with Lady Valentina. This is the note he left behind and I believe it is for you” ‘Oh. Anything can be worse.’ Serena felt a cold breeze through her heart. Everything she prepared, everything she lived for, a stable concrete building of her future demolished in a blink.

“Messengers are not supposed to say what they want to say, but I am very sorry about what happened, Lady Serena.”

He patted her on her shoulder and walked out of her room.

All her positivity and happiness vanished. She slowly opened the note he left for her.

‘Firstly, I am sorry for breaking your marriage.

But Serena, remember my dream I told you when we were young?

My dream was to marry the fairest of all and I think I met her. Let me introduce you to Lady Valentina, the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

I hope you will find someone better than me.’

First, sorrow and misery; then, anger overwhelmed her.

‘How can he!’ she cried. He left her for not being the fairest of all. ‘If only I was the fairest of all’ she thought. How dumb she was to love him. She wanted to find him and rip his heart apart.

No, not his heart, her heart: Lady Valentina’s heart. She probably lured him to marry her, just to bet Serena. Then, she wondered if her father was alarmed about this situation too.

“Father! Father!” She yelled as she ran across the corridor into his room.

“Yes, Serena. I know what is happening. I am going to send troops to find them. I am not letting this happen. This is a disgrace to our family and the House of Saminar!”

Serena felt relieved that her father felt the same as her.

“But father, the King probably already sent troops to look for them.”

“The more, the better.” Sir Grimhilde always told her this since she was young.

“Thank you, father.” Serena curtsied and walked back to her room. She felt much better.

6 months passed but there were still no signs of accomplishment from the troops. There were rumors that Serena secretly ordered the troops to kill Lady Valentina when sighted. (She would love to do that, but it’s a fake rumor and she definitely would hate becoming the villain of this story…at least for now!)

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with them. This made Serena very confused because her house was still much stronger than House Lagore.

Years passed, followed by years. Serena Grimhilde was now a fully grown adult.

Unfortunately, only physically fully grown, not mentally. Her words said that she completely forgot about him, but her actions were the opposite. The average age of marriage at her time was 18. Serena became 23 a week ago and she still had no thoughts of marrying. Due to her ravishing looks, the list of proposals dedicated to her was never-ending, but she burnt the list. It was like she was silently waiting for her prince to come back.

And he did come back on Serena’s 25th birthday with his gorgeous wife. It was also the day his father, the king, passed away.

“I came to gain my throne,” He said with confidence. How stupid was he, thinking that his little brother, Prince James, would kindly lend his throne to him? However, Prince John won the throne; maybe with some blood involved. Who knew poor James would die the day after his father’s death.

Lady Valentina became Queen Valentina. Serena always had to suppress her anger when she was around this beautiful woman. She always wanted to splash eggs on her, but she didn’t want to get beheaded. She especially had to be more careful, because the Queen was pregnant with a little princess. Every day, Serena thought about how she could remove this lady from her life as an assassination or blaming Valentina for a crime, but they were both not a choice.

Joy was followed by Misery. Serena’s wish came true not even a month after they arrived at the palace; the Queen passed away while giving birth to her little daughter. Serena got married to King John and happily replaced Queen Valentina the day after her death. Unlike Serena, King John stayed in his room for days after his lover’s death from depression. He didn’t eat, drink or look at his little princess. Soon, he followed his wife’s path to heaven. Poor Princess Snow White lost both her parents in the first year that she was born.

Snow White had pale skin, red lips, pink cheek, black hair and pure black eyes. She looked so much like Lady Valentina. Serena, the wife of King John, became the Queen after the king’s death. She despised Snow White. The little princess kept reminding her about Queen Valentina and tore her apart with memories about the odious lady. Memories were interesting. They built up as time passed and didn’t take long until they became hyperboles. As Snow White grew up, Serena hated her even more.

And from here, it’s the story of Snow White that we all know.

So remember: no one wants to become a villain in a story without having a reason.

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Good Night – Jane Kang Noah whispered, “I wish I had a friend who could have deep conversations with me.”

“Well… I’m in front of you to listen! I’m ready now! Ok then, basic questions...”

I had a long conversation with Noah which started with basic, easy questions; I realized there were lots of interesting facts about him. His birthday was on December 25th, same as me, but he is two years older than me - which makes him 18 now. He has two older brothers and his parents are living with him. Living without a mom or any siblings before, I was curious about his family.

Noah hardly opened his mouth and announced, “Actually my dad is the CEO of a company…

Sorry that I didn’t tell you before, but I just don’t feel comfortable telling people as people have stereotypes that rich people are cold and mean. I don’t want you to leave me” The beach sand was tickling my toes as the wind was playing with my hair. I slowly glanced at him and said, “I have lived with my father and he doesn’t work. We are poor unlike you and you are not the only one who is uncomfortable to talk about your current circumstance. I’ve always tried to hide the fact that I am poor because people have stereotypes about poor people. That poor people are not confident and always negative. I don’t want you to leave me either.”

In the silence, I could hear the calm sounds of waves.

“I can see myself in your pupils.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Two days later, I met him at a small corner shop.

“Do you want me to show you something very cool? Wait a moment...”

I quietly walked to the counter and naturally talked to the owner. While the conversation was flowing, I slowly reached out my arm and I stole a piece of bread from the side of the counter.

Nobody noticed.

“Isn’t it cool? Go nearby, naturally talk and steal. Simple! Huh?” I was talking to Noah, but he seemed to be looking behind me. Soon after, the owner came to me and dragged me to the police office. I heard Noah calling my name but I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to say the last goodbye.

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I was really glad that I didn’t say my last goodbye before because that was not the end of our love story. Even though I was in the “Grey Prison”, which was known as the scariest prison, I always thought about Noah. And I am pretty sure Noah also did. This was proven when he came to the Grey Prison, where I stayed. He ran into the prison shouting out, “I stole all of these expensive things! Please let me in!” As soon as he shouted, people crowded around him. I heard people murmuring.

“No way. Everyone knows that he’s rich.”

“Why would he steal things if he already owns everything” “He was always a nice person. Even if he did steal those, I’m sure that somebody asked him to steal it for him… Or maybe her.”

Noah pushed into the crowd and came right in front of me and gave me a piece of bread. I asked him if he actually stole everything that he was holding. He answered with a soft smile on his mouth.

“Yes, I stole all of these. Remember you taught me how to steal? I really missed you and I thought if I do the same thing as you I might be able to be in the same prison as you. I don’t know why, but nobody punished me.”

I felt tears in my eyes.

“You’re rich and I’m poor! People can’t believe that a rich person stole things. That’s why! Ok? Now go back to your house… Good night…”

“What do you mean. I’m never leaving you alone. I’m not gonna go...”

“Noah… Noah? Just bribe the police and get out of prison.”

“Why would I?” “I’m not interested in you. So please listen to me.”

“I committed a crime for you though.”

“Noah, if you like me, then act as I’ve said. Bribe the police, make an agreement with the owner, and get out of jail. Please listen to me.”

“Lilly, like you have said, I can get away with this problem easily. So don’t worry. I just want to be with you for a while.”

“Noah. Go away please. I’m not accepting you. Why can’t you listen to me?”

“How are you so obnoxious?”

“Noah…”

“I just want to be with you for a while. What’s so bad about that?”

“Just… Just go away. I don’t like you. Please leave me alone.”

“I thought you loved me. I am here for you.”

“I’m sorry but I guess I don’t anymore. So please go away...”

Silence.

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“Ok! Fine! I’ll go! I’ll leave you alone!”

I had to lie to protect him. I honestly didn’t want him to leave me.

“Bye… Lily...”

He left the prison with tears. As soon as he left I whispered to myself.

“Good night...”

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Ross 128B – Nayoung Kang

WARNING

THIS FILE IS THE PROPERTY OF ROSS 128 B CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY. CONTENTS MAY NOT BE ACCESSED BY UNAUTHORISED PEOPLE.

Year 2117 The G20 summit was held; it received special reports from the CIA and the NASA. The agenda was: Planet Earth is in extreme danger.

But, all the curious blends of the results were greeted with nothing but a “no solution”.

Ollie closed the textbook.

“For goodness sake Ollie! This is going to be on my history exam!”

“But I have to go… I have English class” — 21 January 2121 Headlines from BHC News; “Top One Percent People’s Planet Earth, Planet Ross 128 b” The first group of people having an Earthean planetport* have finally reached Ross 128 b.

Planet Ross 128 b’s Grey House called ‘hope’ for more ‘Earthians’ that will visit their ‘utopia’.

The top leaders of planet Ross 128 b highly encouraged young ‘Earthians’ to be a part of their eternal, flawless, and perfect community.

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“Oh that? You can give it to him if you want… but it brings me back to my childhood" — Most Earthians’ life goal is to live in a planet called Ross 128 b, which is also known as the ‘utopia’ that only the top one percent can go to.

The Requirements of being a Rossian are: • Score 2121 out of 2121 on the Earthian Intelligence Test • Pass a medical exam • Minimum GPA of 3.0 • No crime committed • Able to speak 4 languages fluently including the Ross language • Be a citizen of a country • Have never used illegal drugs • Be at least 15 years old Young Earthians’ everlasting race towards the goal partially depends on their parents.

A major thing could be their parents or their guardians’ socioeconomic status, which measures their income, education and occupation. Different ways of thinking can also have a major impact on the young Earthian; they may be brainwashed (that there is no such thing as a ‘place for the top one percents’) to keep their family farm. Others, might force the child to be one of the top one percent people. However, at the end, it is all up to the child.

Now, this might make some people wonder: “isn’t it unfair for those who are born in a top one percent family?”

Well, here’s the answer: The weird thing is that—there are no children who come from a ‘top one percent family’ Maybe in Ross 128 b; however, not in Earth.

A majority of the people say: “They won’t have children.”

“Their children will have the best education in Ross 128 b.”

However, no one really knows about the truth.

And of course, it is allowed to not to be part of the top one percent people; it is perfectly up to the individual.

Ollie’s next door neighbor, Mr.Bob, said he is preparing for his child to certainly be a part of the top one percent ‘Rossian’ people.

The overall Consumer Price Index had increased; however, the financial market system didn’t change. An outlook over beadcoin was pretty good in 2018. But in 2020, as the majority of the Earthians who used beadcoin were starting to get arrested, it caused a worldwide economic depression, which is known as Great Depression II. Eventually, all countries banned all decentralized digital currency.

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It is compulsory for the selected top one percent people to take a course called Ross 128 b’s gravity 101. If not, they will have to stay in Earth for the rest of their lives.

The new Rossians, will fly 11 light years to Ross 128 b—where everything will be free.

Due to technological advances, more and more people were being lazy.

With this in mind, the top one percent Earthians are crucial to the future of mankind.

There is limited information about the Rossians and the planet Ross 128 b.

Still, people believe it is the best possible place that an Earthian can go to.

Sometimes simply making a choice could change your life.

— “I remember writing it, dreaming as if I was to be the future president of planet Ross 128 b”.

Young Ollie was an ambitious kid, who matured with hope and dream.

However, it didn’t take long to make ze think that ze’s desired dream was impossible to achieve.

“But, there is no such thing as a utopia” — “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” James 4:7 — Not even all the Central Intelligence Agents knew about it; it was a top secret.

“What is it again” “Um… it is just that a kid, who is quite interesting—” “It’s a kid who tweets about our top secrets” There was nothing but silence; perhaps they were on their phones not even paying attention “Then we should make that guy one of our agents” — 17 Jan 2199 I started to wonder if I’m really gifted because this morning, I somehow ended up in this weird place without walking or anything.

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The food is pretty good here; however, it will be really appreciated if they could possibly stop spying on me.

I mean, are they planning to make me like Truman Burbank from the Truman Show or what?

I don’t get why these people are doing this to me.

Oh sure, I should always look at the bright side of life.

The only good thing about all the spying is that I don't have to call anyone if I want something.

Just now my stomach is rumbling, growling, desperate for food; this means soon, I will see some people delivering food.

It is better than the room service in Hilton that I stayed for Christmas last year—blame the technology Hilton people if you guys are reading.

I’d better get one with my blog: “I remember writing it, dreaming as if I was to be the future president of planet Ross 128 b”.

“But, there is no such thing as a utopia” As I was soon about to find out.

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Gray Area Between Black and White -Pablo Lee The man quietly awakened as the bright yellow light tapped his face. His heart was cold, yet the sunshine wasn’t able to reach it. He had a simple breakfast that satisfied his hunger and eased his mind. He had enormous amounts of work to do, but one case in particular was hardening his icy heart. He held the case file in his left hand while thinking about his job. Was his job seeking justice or disrupting morality?

The man’s name was Mark, and it was chosen from the Bible. His parents taught him to follow the words of the Gospel, and he piously followed his parent’s example. But in this gray area, he wasn’t able to find justice or purity. His client was in mourning, and Mark’s heart felt pierced by an unyielding law. He was a lawyer, but he wasn’t able to grasp justice from the court.

The client was a son who murdered his parents. When Mark first heard about the case, he knew that he would never defend a person like him in court. He thought the client deserved the punishment, but when he heard about the tragic incident, his mind instinctively headed to the gray area where the ideals of right or wrong become mixed.

Mark asked his client for more evidence to tighten his mind up. “Are there are any motives or reasons for this murder?”.

His client silently nodded.

Suddenly, he noticed his client had bruises on his face and arm. For Mark, the doubt was still attached in him. He asked some questions about his bruises. “Was there any harassment that was caused by police or any others before you came here?” his client silently nodded.

Without any reason, his client started to mourn.

When he came out from the confession room, he had to ask officer, for some evidence.

“Officer, do you have any idea about my client’s bruise?”

The officer replied, “According to his neighbors, there was some serious harassment caused by his parents before he killed them...”

“Then we can tell them that my client was just defending himself!!”

Then the officer told him. “But your client keeps saying that the bruises were caused by himself...”

After the officer’s reply, there was long silence in the room.

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belief for Mark, and he followed it in his experiences. From the court, however, everything seemed like imperfections. As the judge began the trial, his mind wasn’t in one place. His heart was wandering in the middle of purity and darkness.

The bombardment of criticisms and questions were pouring over the client’s head. Suddenly, one question pierced his whole body.

“Was your murder all planned? Or did you kill your parents for your satisfaction?”

His mouth was trembling as if it wanted to devour the questions and proclaim his love for his parents. Everyone silently waited as nothing happened. Then, Mark broke the silence and started to defend his client as the trial began. “ Parental love is the only love that is truly selfless, unconditional and forgiving. …”-Dr T.P.Chia“Yes, he’s guilty of murder. But everyone here knows that my client was suffering from abuse.

Also, from this paper, we can infer that his parents were threatening him.”

“Nonsense! Your client confessed that there were no harassment” The judge warned the prosecutor, “You are not allowed to interrupt in the middle of the lawyer’s speech. Lawyer, I’m warning you to stop making prejudicial claims based on opinion.”

When Mark looked at his client, heavy tears were wetly dropping onto his chest over his heart.

“We are having a 1-hour break,” the judge stated. Mark’s body felt powerless when he heard it.

Every blood vein was twisted with his client’s. His voice was ringing in his head, but his mouth remained shut. The client’s face was as pale as the dead while he mumbled insults. Mark knew that if he didn’t bring out new evidence, his client could be sentenced to death. Mark had only one way to defend him.

Mark argued, “Your honor, I have a paper that Dr. Koo wrote. It says, ‘The patient has mental illness and depression that can cause serious effects for the rest of his lifetime’, which means that my client was having mental issues when he was confessing. He can be coerced by other people, and he had mental illness during the murder.”

After this statement, Mark knew that he was being watched by the audience. This statement changed everything. Only Dr. Koo wasn’t real. Mark had written the report himself.

After five hours, the last statement was made to the judge. Everyone was clapping for Mark, but he and his client were not in a good mood. Mark knew it was an immoral action, and there was guilt in it. But he was trying to ignore it by justifying that his immoral action saved the man’s life. When he entered his office, everyone was waiting for him. His direct supervisor started to applaud, and everyone showed admiration to him. He suddenly thought everything was fine, and he had a long rest at home. ***************************

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The bright shiny sunlight woke his client up. Two young birds were singing for him, and he noticed that they were a happy couple. He held his pen and scribbled some words down on his paper while he was looking at the birds. But soon, he saw a small chick behind the birds.

Suddenly, he saw his parents sitting in branches waving at him.

As something (something sharp and shiny) attracted him, his naive soul started to approach to his parents...

Behind him, there was a letter soaked with blood waiting for somebody to find.

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The Wrong Color – Jed Lee The same thing happened again today.

Waking up with a nightmare and a sweat shower isn’t the best choice. Especially when you don’t have time to shower since you are late for school. My legs don't move as I think about what will happen in school. Alongside walking with me is my one and only imaginary friend, Fred. Since everybody in the school… No let's not talk about it right now.

Ah… ahead of me is the school. Do I really need to go and get bullied?

Never mind.

I should only concentrate on studying. It’s my only hope of beating them. The head teacher greets me as I walk into school. I wish there was no school but only time to spent time with my loved ones -mom, dad, and my grandma. The icy wind of hatred and disgust hits me as I go into the classroom. I react with a shiver. Everybody stares at me. I take a deep breath, and go in. I’m safe. Thanks to the teacher.

But I can’t hear a word that the teacher says. My only interest is what will happen after this. I just wish the teacher will stay longer. Or else… something bad will happen... ~Ding Ding Ding~ Oh my, it’s break time. I should go to my hiding spot. Again, they are following me. Again.

“Hey dude!” says a boy.

I didn’t answer.

“Yo, come right in front of me right now or I’ll dump and lock you in the trash room!” says another boy.

Honestly, I don’t care whether I’m locked in or not because I’m used to it. Here comes “the boy”. He grabs my head and leg. Then, he obviously throws me into the trash room and locks it.

I wait in the dark until anybody opens me. Most likely it's going to be a teacher who's going to open me and free me. I hear footsteps, I think it's a teacher’s footsteps.

Light starts to come in as the door opens. It is the teacher.

“What are you doing inside the trash room, Will?”

“Well...um, I…” “These days I hear that there are boys who are bullying you, am I right?”

I remain silenced.

“Just tell me if you're in trouble with other boys, okay?” sighs the teacher.

I reply with a pause of silence. After a few moments the teacher walks away as if I was an ignorant piece of trash.

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Today, I decided to not eat lunch. Even though my mom always tells me to eat lunch to grow stronger and taller. What's the point? If I buy the food, it’s 100% going to go into the bin even before I eat it. It’s a waste of money and time. In that time, I will be able to find a new hiding spot to hide in for lunch and break time.

Besides, I’m used to starving since I almost never have dinner. Perhaps I should try and understand my grandma and mom’s feelings for starving almost every time. They do it to save money for my school fees…

“Mom, I’m home!” I shout.

“Hello honey, how was school?” asks my mom.

“It was great… I’ll go, unpack my bag and shower.”

I walk away sighing. The end of the day is my favorite part of the day. I can always be comforted in my house. Although, it isn’t fully a house…

After unpacking my bag, I go to the bathroom to shower. While showering, I look at the mirror, as the black shivering figure of me comes into sight. I sigh and gaze at myself.

‘Why do I need to live like this. Why... was... I... born... with... the... wrong… color?’

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The Bullied Singer -Soojin Shin Winter Bloom was an average high school girl from New York City. Winter had beautiful brown locks that cascaded down her back and vibrant ocean blue eyes; she had high cheekbones and a button nose. She had grown up in a big household with her parents, two older brothers and younger sister. Her grades were phenomenal but unfortunately she was a nerd who loved singing but hid it because she didn’t want to get noticed. Winters’s best friend from Kindergarten-Kendall-knew that she was beautiful but Winter had a very shy personality which made her become very introverted.

One day, she was walking to her next class but was stopped by someone pulling her silky, smooth hair which was up in a tight ponytail.

“Ouch!” Winter squeaked.

It was the meanest but most popular girl in school, her childhood BFF Mandy. Mandy, Kendall and Winter, were all best friends until the summer of sixth grade when Mandy decided to change into one of the IT girls, the most popular girls in school. In a mere two months, Mandy fell out with Winter and Kendall because they were apparently ‘too nerdy’ and too untalented.

But the truth was that Winter was an excellent singer who only shared her talent with her BFF, Kendall.

Now they were all attending High School and Mandy was known as one of the most popular people in school after their leader, Brooke Bailey. Brooke was a cheerleader with pin straight blonde hair that was always in a high pony that was secured with a bow with the school colours, blue and white. Her eyes were a warm chestnut brown that made her eyes took sweet but it all stopped when she talked to Winter. Brooke was very self-confident and was the complete opposite of Winter. Musicals and talent shows were what Brooke was known for; she had always gotten the lead role. Everyone else was too scared to audition because they didn’t want to get confronted by Brooke.

This brought us here, it is almost time for auditions for the infamous talent show that Brooke had been the consecutive winner since Middle school. Winter desperately wanted to enter because it was her senior year in High School which meant that there were going to be talent scouts there. Despite being very timid and shy, Winter loved singing and wanted to get into Juilliard after High School.

As a result of being in a very musically active family, Winter had an impressive resume. Over the years, Winter had joined many competitions outside of school and knew how to play 5 instruments; you could even call her a musical genius! Unfortunately, she was so shy in school which was a result of all the insults and bullying that happened. However, Winter’s parents were both famous composers and singer/songwriters which made Winter extremely motivated to make it into University without her parents’ influence.

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It was a Friday and it was the day that Winter had been awaiting. She hated that she was too shy to stand up for herself and that people used that to their advantages to bully her. Despite that, she got out of bed and got ready for the day: she took a shower then got dressed into her ‘nerdy’ attire which just consisted of comfortable clothes because she thought that she had no reason to try hard for school.

Outside of school, Winter was actually a very loud and carefree person instead of her shy and timid act that she put up in school to avoid as much attention and to minimise the bullying. She was from a very wealthy family due to her parents so she had a chauffeur that took her to school but she didn’t want anyone to know so she always told the driver to park the limo a block away from the school to avoid attention and she would meet up with her bestie and walk the rest.

As soon as the duo entered the school, the whole hallway was shouting rude remarks about their ugliness - which was completely not the truth because they were all very beautiful.

Everyone knew that Kendall was a very athletic and talented person but nobody knew that Winter could sing. Today was the day that Winter would show her talent and confidence, she thought to herself.

Out of the blue, Winter was pushed back onto her bum which caused Kendall to wobble because their arms were linked but Kendall stayed standing because she was very strong due to her boxing sessions that she did every day. Kendall whirled around to see Brooke and Mandy both standing there smirking and crossing their arms.

“Wh-what do you w-want?” Winter stuttered.

That caused Brooke to scowl and Winter to whimper.

“I just want you to know that I rule this school and you don’t talk back to me!” Brooke screeched like a banshee. With that done Mandy muttered something and left trailing behind Brooke.

By the time the girls were out of sight, Winter was fuming with anger and betrayal by her ex best friend. Then, she started to freak out because she was nervous about the auditions in front of the school later that day. Kendall felt that Winter tensed up, so she started to soothe her with comforting words.

BRRRRIIIIIINNNGGGGGGG!!!

The School bell rang for the girls and they scurried off to class. Unfortunately, before they could get to their class Winter was called to the principal's office along with Mandy. Shaking like a wet dog, Winter rushed to the principal's office scared- she had never been in trouble. When she got in she saw that Mandy was already there conversing with the Principal, Mr. Brown.

Trembling like a chicken, Mandy straightened herself up to look more professional.

“Ok, ladies I have seen both of your sign-up sheets for the talent show but I have an issue,” Mr. Brown mumbled.

“What is it?” asked Mandy.

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“Unfortunately, this year we are not permitting soloists so we are randomly pairing you up with someone and you two have been paired up!” exclaimed Mr. Brown.

Fortunately, they soon finished talking and left the office going back to their classes. Winter and Mandy agreed to sing ‘Stronger’ by Kelly Clarkson and separated. However, as Winter was walking away she heard her name being called from a distance. In an instant, she knew who it was; it was Mandy. Slowly, Winter turned around to see Mandy fidgeting with her fingers and looking down. Winter asked what was wrong and Mandy burst out in tears - falling on the floor in the process.

“I...I’m so....rry for everything!” stuttered Mandy “I just felt like I was Ugly and had no talent compare to you and Kendall,” admitted Mandy “It’s ok I forgive you.” comforted Winter “Bu...But why? I was so mean to you!” exclaimed Mandy “It’s because I figured out a long time ago that you were just hurt.” replied Winter. After the whole scene, they both got up and chose a time to practice their song.

It was finally time for Winter and Mandy’s performance! They were both stoked by the fact that there were going to be talent scouts at the talent show. Soon it was time for both of them to go on stage. All of a sudden, Mandy had started to hyperventilate because she was nervous that she wasn't good enough. Fortunately, Winter was there to calm her and make sure that she knew her talent was special. Walking on the stage, Winter sat down with her guitar and mic while Mandy just had a chair and a mic.

Strumming out the first few notes, the applause died out as everyone anticipated what was coming next: the two most opposite girls in school would be singing together. In the background, you could hear the music and the guitar softly strumming out as the girls started their duet. The auditorium was so quiet as everyone watched in awe as the two girls harmonised together, sounding like angels.

It was so quiet that, if you dropped something, it would be as loud as thunder contrasted to the audience. Winter and Mandy both had their eyes closed because of their nerves in the beginning but as the chorus came they both opened their eyes, looked at each other, and belted out the climax. When the song was over, there was a moment of silence as everyone in the audience looked like goldfish with their mouths gaping. Booming claps came from the crowd along with whistles and compliments as the girls bowed and walked off stage.

As soon as they came off stage, they were face to face with a professional looking woman who was holding a clipboard.

“Pardon me, but what is your name?” Asked the lady as she pointed to Winter.

“My name is Winter ma’am,” answered Winter.

“Well let's get straight to the point; I am making a proposal,” the lady muttered.

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“May I ask what?” Winter questioned.

“I will give you a chance for a full scholarship to Juilliard but on one condition you have to let go of your… um how should I say this nicely, little friend. I’ll give you time to think.” Smirked the lady.

Winter was speechless, she wanted this so badly but she knew that it was wrong of her to take the chance. Although Mandy was mean to her and bullied her, she was still a part of their duo and talent show so it was a definite no. This was something that would define her friendship and she didn’t want to break it and be selfish.

“I’m sorry but I must decline your offer: I cannot just leave my partner.” muttered Winter as she smiled at Mandy sweetly.

Mandy immediately started protesting and trying to get Winter to go without her but was stopped by the sound of chuckling coming from the lady. Confused, the girls asked what was funny and the lady left and came back with a tall man who looked as professional as her. She introduced him to Mandy and was talking about her when Mandy butted in and asked what they were talking about. The man then explained how there was only on Juilliard scholarship but she would be more fit for fashion, telling by her clothes. Immediately, Mandy jumped up and down in excitement as she had always wanted to do that but was just trying to beat Winter.

After everything was set Mandy and Winter said their goodbyes as they prepared for college in their new schools with their new passions.

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An Area That’s Grey -Daniel Park (Inspired by multiple video games and anime -try to spot them!)

(Alternatively, Skip to the end to see some of them and ruin the fun).

(Disclaimer: Not recommended for people who are easily disturbed). (※※※※※ indicates jumping forward in time eg: 2 years later)

Dedicated to all the anime/gaming otakus.

Lying down on the ground, I waited for him to pass by me. I lay dormant as he slowly walked past me. I breathed out deeply. It was the day... I had to do this, if I didn’t... I called out for help...

...But nobody came...

I had to do it, but I couldn’t... ※※※※※

Walking down the hallways of my house, I heard nothing but silence and the sound of my footsteps, creaking against the old, wooden stairs. Flashbacks. Misery. Nothingness. Those words described my life.

I stayed the only survivor from that accident... Before my family had been wiped out. A tear glistened as it slid down the side of my cheek. I stayed here. Alone. The only place where comfort would stay beside me was at school. Next year, I would graduate to college, and the loneliness would end. I could be in a dorm with new friends. It had been the end the moment I had stepped into this middle school.

Should I stay here?

Or should I leave the school?

I stayed in misery at that school, flashing back to every incident that had occurred... But I couldn’t leave... Every single one of my memories lay there. I couldn’t leave those behind. I started up my NES console to play Super Mario Brothers. I used to play this with my friends.

The only thing that had stopped me from dying in that accident was the void that my parents had cracked before dying. It had given me a sword, just in time to slice the machine, stopping it from killing me.

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A GRAY AREA I walked downstairs to the old drawing canvas that my sister used to use. The lights blinked off and on three times.

Impossible.

We had saved 50 yearsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; worth of energy with our generator. The neighborâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s always flickered but ours was developed to be good even 70 years into the future. Must be a wire or something...

Looking around for any type of error, I fell back in surprise. Blood-red letters appear one at a time on the floor. â&#x20AC;&#x153;C O M E D O W Nâ&#x20AC;?

I ran back up the stairs and locked the door. Was it just me or had the pictures just moved? I sat there in my confusion...

I decided to take a rest. Obviously, that was a mistake. Nightmares invaded my dreams like mice going for cheese. My vision went striped like a buffering TV screen - đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192;đ&#x; &#x192; đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153;đ&#x;&#x192;&#x153; đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­â&#x203A;&#x20AC;đ&#x;&#x20AC;?đ&#x;&#x20AC;?đ&#x;&#x20AC;?đ&#x;&#x20AC;? â&#x2122; đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A; â&#x2122;&#x2122;â&#x2122;&#x2DC;â&#x2122;¤â&#x2122;&#x2013;đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­ đ&#x;&#x201A; đ&#x;&#x201A; đ&#x;&#x201A; đ&#x;&#x201A; â&#x203A;&#x20AC;đ&#x;&#x20AC;?đ&#x;&#x20AC;? đ&#x;&#x20AC;?đ&#x;&#x20AC;? â&#x2122; đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A;đ&#x;&#x20AC;&#x203A; đ&#x;&#x20AC;ąđ&#x;&#x20AC;ąđ&#x;&#x20AC;ąđ&#x;&#x20AC;ąđ&#x;&#x20AC;ąđ&#x;&#x20AC;ą â&#x2122;&#x2122;â&#x2122;&#x2DC;â&#x2122;¤â&#x2122;&#x2013; đ&#x;&#x17D;ąđ&#x;&#x17D;ąđ&#x;&#x17D;ąđ&#x;&#x17D;ąđ&#x;&#x17D;ąđ&#x;&#x17D;ą đ&#x;&#x201A;­đ&#x;&#x201A;­. Immediately shocked out of sleep, I looked around my room in confusion. Everyone was gone... I walked outside, and everything seemed to be normal. â&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ť Finally! Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m in College! I was hyped to meet new friends and students! I stepped up on the stairs onto my new school. Sitting down in my new classroom, I saw him. Why was He here. He had come for me. He had said a choice had been coming my way, and I wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be able to make the choice when it came to me. I remembered that. Now he had come to warn me again. The next time he would meet me would be at the choice. He would greet me like he does every time with that cheerful expression, but that wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t deceive me. I knew that he was waiting for my choice, enjoying me debating over each side. I decided to play it safe and ignore him completely. Everyone was rushing to choose their seats, so I chose my seat in the back corner of the classroom, next to the windows. â&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ťâ&#x20AC;ť â&#x20AC;&#x153;Who are you?â&#x20AC;? asked my teacher in my Senior Year of college, obviously asking for my name, but I wondered it myself... Who am I? Of course I knew who I was, but many people have changed their 247 | P a g e

A GRAY AREA names and identities, so is that actually me? I stared outside the windows, ignoring everything the teacher said.

※※※※※

Laughing along with my friends, I walked across to my next class - English. My best friend’s name was John Cena, well until he changed his name; He was Shu now. Shu was and still is one of my best friends.

He wanted to become an animator when he grows up. He already made great animations. For some reason, though, after I met him, a red mark appeared in my hands. We had been asked to write a short story about a gray area.

That was easy, I had made way too many choices in my life, and none of them had ended up well...

Except for the one that got me here. As I stepped through the door, I accidentally stumbled on the door frame. I quickly recovered, and sat down at my desk. The teacher rambling along about different gray areas, I noticed a person perched on the bench directly outside of my - oh no... I decided to ignore that... ※※※※※ As break time approached, my friends and I started up Realm of the Mad God - A game we played together. After break, we had Math. The day proceeded as every day did, and I started to wonder if what I had seen outside the window was just a hallucination. But I knew it wasn’t. I knew that you could run from the past, but it would keep following you. You can run but you can’t hide. ※※※※※ Friends or family... I had never really known my parents, but my sister, Sayori, was the only one who had cared for me since my youth... But she had hung herself out of grief... I couldn’t leave my friends though... They were my only comfort for the past 7 years. He had returned. Flashing back to reality, I stumbled backwards, and my head hit the sharp edge of a desk. I blacked out, but He remained there...

He still said I had to make a choice. I could have my friends erased forever but have my family back, or I could keep my friends, but my family would suffer eternal torture, whereas they normally would have been happy. Laying down on the ground, I waited for him to pass by me. I lied dormant as he slowly walked past me. I breathed out deeply. It was the day... I had to this this, if I didn’t... I called out for help... ...But nobody came...

I had to do it, but I couldn’t... I’m sorry...

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A GRAY AREA ※※※※※ Flashbacks invaded my dreams like fleas on an old coat. I couldn’t forget that day... I’m still sorry. Shu and I walked across the street, to the old bookstore that had been there since college. We bought really an old manga - Shingeki no Kyojin. We remember how fun it had been reading this 4 years ago... Shu asked me, “How do you think I will be as an animator?”

I replied, “I know that you’ll become a great animator, Shu.” We held the books gingerly, as if we had been handed a hydrogen bomb. All of our memories had been held in these books. We slowly walked through the painting that led us back. ‘Fabricated World’. If I had to make that choice again, I don’t think I could or would have chosen differently, I told Oryx, the one who had made me make a choice... But it had been my fault. I had taken the bet. And I had practically sold my soul to him. My family was gone already, but my friends were still here... For now... ※※※※※※※※※※ Tears flooded from my eyes...

“Bye, Shu...”

Thank you to the creators of: Ib, Undertale, Super Mario Brothers and Legend of Zelda - Ocarina of Time, Tokyo Ghoul, and Realm of the Mad God, amongst many others.

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Wish –Snigdha Rai I didn’t know what to do. Do I go with the person who gave birth to me, or the person who taught me to overcome the challenges of life? It was like I was stuck for answers in a huge puddle of mud. Both of them are so important to me, I couldn’t possibly pick between them...

The problem was, my parents were getting a d“Breanna! Where are you, dinner is on the table, hurry!” yelled Mom. Thinking about the situation I had in my head, I climbed down the stairs to the lovely smell of…Steak!

“Mom,” I said, “Yes, Breanna?” she replied “I have something to ask you…” I said nervously, “During the past few days, I have been really confused about…you know…”

Suddenly, Dad came back from the store, holding two gigantic bags of groceries.

“Hey! How’s it going, kiddo?”

“Hey dad.” I replied, bitterly.

“What's up with you Breanna?” asked Dad, “You have been acting very frustrated and disturbed recently!”

“It’s just, since the talk on Friday, I have just been thinking about… which side to go on, and I really can’t decide,” I said with a disheartened tone of voice. This really could not be happening, it just could not, well at least, I didn’t want it to happen.

My parents always say, “I am 13 years old and should know how to make the right decisions,” “Breanna, it is time for dinner,” informed Mom, “We are sorry for putting all of this tension on you, but-” “Mom, stop,” I cried, “I am going to my room, I am not hungry, especially if I have to deal with you guys!”

I ran up the stairs to my room, and hot tears started trickling down my cheek. Why does this have to happen? I felt bad. I felt bad for screaming at them. I lay down on my bed, and I was off to my dreams about a lovely family, spending time together; one of my most wanted dreams.

The next morning was not very different, I woke up, went to school, came back, ate dinner, and every day was just bringing us closer and closer to the date that my parents have been waiting for. (Notice the emphasis on only, my parents). I did not want to, but I had to. I had to talk to them. I had to convince my parents to stop this, and start to get along with each other. I did not want this to happen, so I went to the dinner table and called all of them downstairs.

For some peculiar reason, it felt like they were hesitating, as if they were hiding something from me. It took them some time to come downstairs. Hmmm… Suspicious. Anyway, they came 250 | P a g e

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down and I told them to sit down no matter what important things they had to do. This was the most important thing for me.

“Mom, Dad, I have something really important to discuss with you.”

They gave me a surprised look, like they didn’t know what I was talking about. I knew that they knew what I was talking about, but they denied it.

“I want to talk about the divorce, and how I am only 13 and I can not make my own decisions. I am stuck in the mud; I don’t know what to do. Whenever I try to ask you guys about this, I start getting nervous and sad. Can you please help me?” I blurted out everything I could, I needed to get it over with, I had been trying to tell them for about a month now, and is still has not worked, at least until today.

“Well, I think that you should follow your heart.” Dad replied with a wink.

“Ew, stop, you are being so cheesy!” They nodded back at me, while I could see the eagerness in their eyes for the answer they desired. “Ugh, fine…My heart says…that I should convince you guys to stay together, and solve your problems.” I responded.

“Breanna, you know that will never happen, so why dream of it? You know what they say, that When people dream of-” My mom is so annoying.

“Mom, no, we do not need one of your old fashioned quotes in serious situations! There is no point of talking to you guys, you never listen to me.” I gulped my tears down my throat. There was a huge apple stuck in my throat. I had to do it this time, no backing out.

“I want you guys to be together, and live as a happy family!” I hollered as loud as I could; it represented the anger that had built up over the past few days. Just as I stated that, I felt a peculiar tingly feeling throughout my whole body, and I was getting chills going through my spine, but I knew it was never going to happen.

“Can you at least try to get along with each other,” I asked, “Please?”

“What do we do to try to get along with each other, Breanna?” My dad replied with a confused face. “We just cannot; we are too different.”

“Well, you can try and go on walks to the parks, go to theme parks, go shopping and do fun things together!!” I would do anything and everything to make them get together again. It was such a beautiful sunny day, they could talk and sort out their problems! ***************************** They came back home with smiles on their faces, which was a great change from before. I initially thought that it would NEVER work, but I didn’t know if they were pretending to be happy just for the sake of my happiness, or they were genuinely just happy. I just hope it was not for me. I wanted it to be real.

When I woke up, my parents were making breakfast together, but it was impossible. Literally impossible.

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“Pass me the salt, please!!” My dad said, which was very rare. Usually he would ask ME, not my MOM. Today was really different, it just seemed really sudden. Hmmmmm, what is going on?!

This is really peculiar. It is just so peculiar the way that they are getting along with each other.

So much to the point that I kind of didn’t like it.

I thought that this was just a dream. It could never actually be true, it just seemed too surreal.

The only thing that I was bothered about was that my body felt a tingly sensation in when I had asked for this to happen. I just shoved it away, since I thought it was because I had held it in for so long, and I finally had gotten a chance to spill it all out to my parents. However, it seemed to continue, whenever I would ask for something or wish for something, it would magically come true like those cheesy fairy tales from the 1980s. But this story was reality, not a fairy tale. I wanted them to get along, but this was too sudden, I could not process it through my mind. ‘My dad and mom are getting along with each other’ Every time I would say it, I would experience that feeling again, running through my veins in my blood.

I was pulling myself together. I had started getting good scores on my tests, and I started to study for my tests. My family was a happy family, and everything was going very well. This feeling was like a puzzle piece, it was lost and felt incomplete, but when the last puzzle piece was placed on the board, the puzzle made sense, and felt full. That last puzzle piece was my family being happy together. There was only one thing that still bothered me, and it was that I could still feel the weird tingly sensations in my body. I had tried to find out what the cause of this feeling was, but I had always failed to investigate what this was caused by.

Therefore, I started to investigate. I wrote down on a sticky note whenever it happened and recorded the patterns that were common in all of them. Sometimes I was cold or hungry, but mostly it happened when I wanted something. This was something new, something unusual, something strange. Only in movies do people have super abnormal powers that grant their wishes. I was an ordinary girl that had an ordinary life, and went to an ordinary school. This could not be true! To test it out, I said “I want grilled cheese.” Nothing happened. ‘Hmm, maybe I should try something else.’ “I want to make a lot of new friends tomorrow.” Now I just had to wait and find out. I would find my answer tomorrow; did I really have these magical powers that granted wishes?

The following day, I went to school and came back, completely forgetting about the ‘wish’ I had made yesterday. Surprisingly, I had made many new friends at school that day, but when I had asked for grilled cheese, nothing happened. Maybe it was a coincidence that it really happened, so I made my investigation reliable, and wished for something else. I wished that I would get an A+ for my math test tomorrow, and that happened too. This was really strange, my wishes were coming true, but only some of them. The things that did come true related to my life and my happiness, but other things that I wished for did not come true, like the grilled cheese incident.

This proved to me that I had the ability to get anything I wanted if it was something that would affect me in a good way in the long term. I had to tell my parents, so I told them right away, and 252 | P a g e

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you will never believe what happened after that. They told me that in their family, there was a gene of abnormality, and this gene came from my great, great, great, grandmother. This meant that in my family, there was a hint of magical abnormality and I was the lucky one in my family to get it! My parents did tell me though, that if i used it inappropriately, to hurt someone or use it for useless things, then I would lose these powers, and nobody in the familyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s generations would ever get them back.

I used my powers well, and learned to control them with maturity. Who would have thought that I would have superpowers?! I could never believe that I had them, I still cannot. Anyways, this was the story of my powers and how I discovered them. I could have never thought that out of everyone in my family, I was picked to get these genes! I am so delighted!

-Breanna-

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Never leave the pod -Jenny Suh and Stella Nass “Engage in the game” We all laughed, thinking this was all a ludicrous joke. Our veins were pumping with adrenaline; our emotions were all over the place. But Amy was quivering in the corner. She was always… “off”. She never understood the real world, happiness or fun, that us, teenagers experience.

She was the perfect definition of boring. Everyone despised her, we just felt a need to include her. She was so lonely. Such a loser.

“Amy why aren’t you joining?” I rolled my eyes.

“I…. I… What? No, I just need um.. Some time to think.” Amy said, dreamingly staring at Cole.

Cole was the stereotypical cool guy. His charm would strike every single girl. Amy, the little fragile creature she was, obviously fell for him. Day and night she would dream and think about him ever yday. I mean, she can’t possibly be good enough for him. People like ME date people like Cole.

I stepped inside Amy’s field of vision, cutting her view on Cole. My Cole.

“Hey Cole.” I said, as I ran my fingers through his hair. He looked up at me, and pulled me closer. Our lips nearly met, when out of the blue“AHHHHH !!” Amy screamed, nearly shaking the building.

“TESSA YOU BRAINLESS…” I smirked. Before resuming our… romance, my phone dinged. I looked down, causally.

“Message from: ANONYMOUS”.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Guys. It’s starting”.

“Wake up at 4:20am and watch psychedelic and scary videos.”

Our first challenge was rather disappointing. As teens we would have thought of spin the bottle, or something but this? Whatever, we had to do the challenge anyway. Everyone we 254 | P a g e

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knew was doing it, we couldn’t be the odd ones out. Plus, our parents had no idea! How cool is that?

It was now time for all of us to go to bed. We got our little sleeping bags and lined them up in the living room. My girls were all despising Amy after the show she put on. So, she was alone upstairs in the attic. Before shutting the lights off, Madison let out an eerie smile whilst a tear ran down her cheek. I frowned in confusion, but before I could ask what was wrong, Madison had slammed the switch. I jerked my head wondering what she was thinking. I eventually decided to forget about it. *BEEP BEEP BEEP* All of us rose like zombies down from the grave. I looked at the clock, and it read 4:20.

“Yay, time to watch murders!” I said sarcastically.

Everyone rolled their eyes and let out a deep sigh. Kayleigh reluctantly opened her computer and went to the chat room with “ANONYMOUS”. He had already sent us 8 videos. Who is he?

We took a glance at the video’s thumbnail. It was… rather disturbing.

“You know what? I don’t think this is the game for me. You guys carry on; I’m quitting.” Just as Kayleigh finished her sentence, a text message arrived:

ANONYMOUS: Quit, and you die.

Kayleigh brutally froze. All of us instantly sat back on the couch, horrified.

“How the heck could he be watching us?!” Amy cried, trying to latch onto Cole. Cole was looking pretty pale himself.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?”

“You have to overcome your fear” There was no. Way. Regina was terrified of blades.

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Kayleigh was terrified of heights.

Amy was terrified of water.

Cole was terrified of fire, And me? I’m terrified of death.

We were now all arguing who was going first.

“Amy? Why don’t you do the honors.”

“Madison, that’s not a fair pick” “No, Amy needs to make up for her hissy fit earlier.”

I could see the despair in her eyes. She clearly did not want to go first. But she wanted to fit in.

She took off her glasses; my heart began to ache.

“Oh Amy. Good girl.” Madison smirked.

Madison lead the way to the pool, as we all reluctantly followed her. It felt like an hour passed by; we could all hear Amy breathing deeply. Madison rolled her eyes.

“Amy darling, why don’t you step forward? Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong, we’re here for you.” She gave all of us a sarcastic smile and turned her head back to Amy. Honestly, she did a great job at breathing with her mouth closed and not bursting into tears.

“Make sure to stay more than 30 seconds under water, hun.”

Next thing we know, half way through her giant gulp of air, something pulled her under.

“The curator checks if you are trustworthy” This morning, we woke up to an aggressive phone call. It was the FBI, and they wanted us in for questioning. We took off to the headquarters, and were greeted by the agents who led us into a blank gray room. One by one, we were called in, questioned, and for some reason, I was left to be questioned last. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. Did they know about the game?

Before I could continue my train of thoughts, Amy screamed.

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I slowly bowed my head, squinting. I glanced at the others.

FROM: ANONYMOUS “I don’t like snitches. Snitches get stitches. Bye Amy :)”

We knew Amy was finished.

We limped back home; I had to be Amy’s shoulder to cry on. She didn’t notice the dead end she put herself in. It felt like an eternity before making it home. By then, the sun had already set.

Amy went back upstairs to her secluded room. I felt bad for her. As we were all tired, we all went to bed as soon as we came back home.

Morning came, and we were all so glad our curator hadn’t sent more messages. All of us made our way down to the living room but one felt missing... We limped upstairs and looked through the crack in Amy’s door. She was sleeping, peacefully.

1:37pm

We decided to go out and grab lunch. Throughout lunch time, Madison stayed rather quiet; which was odd as she was always the talkative one within our group. After finishing up, we all headed back home with Madison in the back with her head down only looking at her phone.

“Madison! Come on why are you walking so slowly?”

Looking flustered, she came dashing back, rapidly hiding her phone when we asked what she was doing.

*Ring, ring, ring, ring* “Madison honestly, who is that? The sound is so annoying now. Urgh!”

“Uh.. it’s no one! Ignore it; I’m sorry for the sound!”

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As everyone else was annoyed, I took it upon myself and snatched Madison’s phone out her pocket. It couldn’t be... I probably was indeed hallucinating.

“Messages from Curator”

All of us were left speechless knowing we were friends with a girl that had tricked us into this game. Backstabbed by a friend? Probably the worst feeling in the world.

FROM: ANONYMOUS “Don’t you dare try running away. It’s too late now.”

Right at that spot, nobody moved a single step and an argument between Madison and I began.

It couldn’t have gotten worse. Now, our friendship with Madison was over and no one had talked to her ever since her secrets have been exposed.

We all darted back home and limped upstairs to Amy’s room. Pumping her heart; giving her CPR, we’ve tried everything to save her life but we were all too late. She had already lost consciousness and hanged down when we shook her by her arm. By now, we all knew who had done this. Who else would do it other than Madison? That girl stood outside smirking and without a single second of hesitation, I stomped towards her and slapped her as hard as I possibly could. With anger filling up in my body, I stormed outside the house, never talking or facing Madison again.

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Trust – Reina Roh “You will never regret your choice” The man smirked.

It was a typical day when the sun was bright and children laughed in joy. Delightful voices greeted the children as they run into their parents’ arms. However, it was different for Rhea. Instead of standing alone, soaking in the rain, waiting for her parents who never came (as she has for the past 8 times), she was walking home alone today.

It wasn’t that Rhea had given up on her parents; rather she still wants their attention. Her sister Rosé is in grade 5, but never went to school or any clubs before. Her parents homeschooled her and she stayed in hospital for most of time. She has Severe Coronary Artery disease. Rhea never made an effort to understand what it really is. Rhea’s memorable memories with her parents (if she had to choose) were always set in the boring hospital hallways or the smelly wards. If she could go back in time when she was younger, she would do anything to visit the amusement park with her parents; only with her parents. Which will never happen, Rhea knew.

She just wished.

When Rhea woke up, the clock read 3:42am. It was still too early for Rhea to wake up. She was dreaming about having a picnic in an enormous park with her parents, chatting. It was a type of dream she wished would last more as it would never become reality. Meanwhile, she was woken up by something mysterious. Something ominous remained in her heart.

“Maybe I need to drink water...” she murmured.

Rhea jumped out of her bed and tiptoed to the living room to not wake her parents. She had a sip from a cup but the ominous air passed through her heart. She quickly turned back.

“A hole? Why is there a hole? This wasn’t here in the morning.”

A big hole was on the kitchen wall with little electric sparkles on the side. Rhea thought she was still dreaming and walked toward her room. Then, she suddenly had a feeling that she wanted to explore the hole before her parents could find and block it off. Inside, it was very dark and unclear.

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“Maybe I will need a flashlight. Oh! My phone in case I get lost. And... some food?”

She felt like she was packing for a vacation. When she was ready, she slowly crawled into the hole in her pajamas with a little backpack that she got for a birthday present. Just as she was stepping into the hole, she pondered if her parents would worry if she goes missing. She decided to not care because her parents will never even notice that she was missing.

But if Rosé was missing, her parents would have called the police everywhere in the town.

She cleared her mind and when she stepped into the hole, the entrance was suddenly shut and Rhea felt something was wrong. She felt like something was pulling beneath the floor. Rhea looked around in fear. Just then, she began to slide down the dark tunnel. She squeezed her eyes and held her hands together.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” Rhea cried.

When she finally landed, the shock was not hard as she thought. The floor was puffy and almost little bouncy. When she cleared her mind and opened her eyes, her mouth opened in awe.

Everything was gray. The buildings, animals, flowers, everything. It was as if she had found a new secret world.

Rhea panicked, but got her phone out to call her parents, only to find it not working.

Unwillingly, she decided to see if anyone lives here and started wandering around, trying to find a village. 20 minutes later, she found a huge castle almost touching the sky. Just then, the gate opened automatically as if someone was watching her. She slowly walked in looking around the castle. Her hands were together with sweat. She crouched and looked around.

“Welcome, my name is Chris.” A tall man with long gray hair suddenly appeared, welcoming Rhea.

“Um…Who are you? What is this place? Where am I?” Rhea asked impatiently.

“This place is only open to specially chosen individuals. Situated between space times, this world ignores time itself; reason why your phone was not working. Come inside. I’ve prepared you some tea and biscuits.” Chris said.

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Rhea starving so without any doubt, she ran inside the castle. The entrance was suddenly shut and the lights flickered and lit the inside of castle. When Rhea was waiting for the man who went to get the teapot, Rhea found humongous book shelves. It looked like a huge library.

When the man finally arrived, he poured gray tea in her cup telling her that it is jasmine tea.

“Jasmine tea is not gray. What is this? Also, look at these biscuits. They are all gray like they are rotten! I don’t want to eat. It...” Rhea said.

“I said, this place is between the space-time. There are no colours, only shadows.” Chris replied.

“And... What are those books?” Rhea asked in curiosity.

“Oh that! Do you want to try? You can go back in time you want and change your future. Only people with “special” ability can succeed in this, such as you. And your life will be perfect.”

Chris replied.

Rhea knew exactly when she wanted to go back to right away; before Rosé was born. Her heartbeat started to go faster because she was extremely excited. The man handed a gray book to Rhea. The instruction was simple. You hold a book, say “Flick!” and imagine the time period that you wanted to go to. Rhea followed the instruction and Chris could see Rhea’s eyes flickering. Like magic, she had returned to the living room when Rosé was not born yet.

“Yes!!” Rhea cried.

The smell of the house was always warm and made Rhea reliefed.

“Rhea! It’s time for breakfast!” Mom cried.

After Rhea spent five happiest days of her life, she suddenly felt something was empty in her heart. It was nice to have the attention but she realized that she could not live without her sister. She imagined her playing in the playground with mud all over her body, her sister and 261 | P a g e

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Rhea fighting each other for a single cloth, and Rhea falling asleep while she nursed her sister.

All the memories flashed back and it warmed her heart.

When she finally went back to the “Gray Area”, she decided to go back to the reality.

“I am going back.” Rhea said with a solemn face.

“Are you sure? You must not. You wanted to get attention and your dream came true! Also, if you go back to your world, you can never come back and cannot….” Chris replied nervously.

“No. I am going back. I don’t want to change my future.” Rhea said cutting Chris’s reply.

“We don’t force people to change their future, but all the people who have been here were satisfied with their decisions and... I had all the power of them and curse the reality worl…”

Chris stopped and his face was suddenly burnt down.

Rhea was shock that she could not even say a word. The purpose of this was to collect the power from the timeslip and curse the reality world!? Without any further thoughts, Rhea started running as fast as she could without looking back.

“Then where are all the people who were caught by the man?” Rhea pondered while running.

Chris was right behind her chasing, and tears started to run down on Rhea’s cheek.

“Remember! For 8 times! You have been left in soaking rain, without your parents! You know where they were? In your sister’s hospital and they have even forgotten about you.” Chris said, shouting to Rhea.

“No it’s not true. They did not forget about me.” Rhea repeated for several times in her head.

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Then, she threw the book in a fire place as hard as she could. A gray book burned into ash, rising into the air. Just then, Rhea’s mind was blank and she could not do or think anything. The world became white and there was “beep” sound constantly in Rhea’s head. Suddenly, all the souls that have been caught by Chris appeared in front of her. The hall echoed, “Escape!

Hurry!”

Rhea was not sure what to do but just ran. When the fresh air gently touched her face, the ominous hole that she fell, appeared again. However, the hole was shrinking. She hurried and dived to the hole before it was completely shut.

“Yes!!” Rhea cried. She was relieved that she was out of the “Gray Area” and finally in reality.

When she finally arrived home, she ran to her parents who were sitting on a couch nervously holding a phone, and hugged them tightly as possible.

“Whe...where were you? We were worried the whole time!! We could not find you anywhere in our town! We tried to call the police but they didn’t believe us” Her parents cried.

Tears started to run down from her parents’ cheek. She could see Rose in her bed not in hospital, looking at her. She could tell that Rose was also worrying because her bed was wet in tears.

“So where were you Rhea?” It was not clear what her mom was saying because she was swallowing tears.

“It doesn’t matter where she was. If she is here safely, everything’s fine.” Her dad replied.

By this experience, Rhea knew that Rose’ and her parents are precious and everything that she was thinking before was all a misunderstanding. Her parents care for Rose and Rhea more than anything and Rose loves Rhea as much as she does.

She smiled in her parents’ warm arms and slept soundly.

She no longer needed the gray area…

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The Tree- June Souk The Tree

GREY

Tanks

Uniforms

Soldiers

Outside Capital City 2150

These were devastating times with injured, wounded, and maimed citizens clutching their bloody wounds and begging for mercy when “it” struck without warning…

“Get up Get up;” I told myself. But, as always it was useless as it was impossible to try to make my feeble, incapacitated, broken-down body to sit-up. It was like trying to make a sick crying baby stop.

The year was 2150, most of the world’s resources had run out- except for one tree.

The “holy tree” we call it in these parts as it is the last known tree in the world. It’s not the healthiest, ‘greeny’ tree but at least it’s a tree and that’s all that matters. The scientists believe that under the tree, the soil contains some of the rarest resources in the current world.

The leader thinks that he could become rich and powerful by trading and selling these valuable resources to other nations as all the leader cares about is himself and the Capital city. He thinks this as he believes the key to a great country is having an amazing capital. Due to this mindset, the residents of the Capital receive top-notch treatment whereas, the rest of the country suffers from things such as: malnutrition.

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A GRAY AREA But it wasn’t always this way with greedy ‘presidents’ and governments.

Before the country separated from the People’s Party of Icefield and the State of Whitemount, all the citizens in the land wherever they were, were pretty much happy. Now if I look beyond the gates of Capital city, I can glimpse people suffering due to the avaricious government who collects taxes only from the people out of Capital City as the government thinks that the people inside the Capital should live a luxurious and lavish lifestyle. Hence, they even give out free money to the citizens every week to spend. Due to these treatments, everyone wanted to live in Capital City, however, to become a resident, the government had to give you permission to live here. To live here you needed to have a good social status and come from a wealthy family.

Five years ago, The Capital City built walls around the city to stop nonresidents from coming in. They put various checkpoints around the city to stop nonresidents from entering the city. They also had a 24hour guard walking around its walls to catch smugglers trying to smuggle people into the city.

2 Months ago outside the gates of Capital City

Power to the people! Down with the government! Stop cutting down our trees! You could easily see these signs (handmade or computer created) as ordinary people (like you and me) were marching through the damaged streets leading to the city of emeralds; Capital City.

Only the elite class of the country would have the privilege in even thinking about living in a prestigious city such as Capital City. The capital city of the New Republic.

Also, in the great and mighty city lived the great leader of this land...

The Dark Pharaoh Vladimir Caesar the Prosperous the FIRST.

Even though the regime doesn't admit it, the people are more than convinced that the autocrat was behind all this mess.The people of Marshfield were devastated as their favourite presidential candidate had lost the election by a landslide.

Now, the savage leader had two choices. He could face the people and listen to them babble all day long or, he could do the alternative move which was to continue doing what he planned for months with his top generals; Operation Timber.

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A GRAY AREA And that is how the journey started; who would have imagined such a powerful project started, with a press of a red button.

************************ “Get up Get up;” I told myself. But, as always it was useless as it was impossible trying to make my feeble, incapacitated, broken-down body to sit-up.”

The leader and his top generals agreed in union to firstly get rid of the protesters. But, they all knew things would be ugly…

So, the general of the New ‘Republic’ of Marshfield ordered his fatigue, idle, indolent soldiers to prepare for Operation T.I.M.B.E.R. (The. Indolent. Members. Break. Everyone's. Rights.)

Boom! Boom! Went the corroded warning cannon informing the protesters they had 5 seconds if they valued their lives.

“We shall never back down until justice is delivered!” shouted the people of Marshfield.

“Tweet, Tweet” went the whistle of the ‘police’ chief. In a blink of an eye, 30 armed guards ran towards the people, went on one knee and pulled the trigger…

You could see the faces of the startled protesters who looked at each other and seemed to be thinking the same thing “They can’t really shoot us right???

BANG BANG BANG… *****************************

DING DING DING...

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A GRAY AREA “We are all gathered here to mourn for the deceased. On the 23rd of November 2150, the leaders party of the New ‘Republic’ of Marshfield viciously slaughtered 23 innocent citizens seeking out for justice.

This is a disgrace for our country’s good name and natur…”

“Freeze dirt bag!” shouted the Chief and his men of 32. “How dare you speak of our dear leader like that! He cares for you lot to live a happy life in his warm hearted regime. I shall have you all arrested for that absurd comment”.

“Come with me you are all under arrest for treason.”

“Treason!” remarked the perplexed citizens. “In you all go” said the Chief as he rounded up the people into the Police van.

The next day news and rumors of the people in captivity under the government for mourning the dead, spread. It was clear that the government did not want the people to remind each other of that fateful day.

As the leader looked outside of his window after a heavy lunch, he could not believe his very own eyes.

About 100,000 ordinary people from all over the New Republic held signs and banners reading “Down with the Ruler” and things like that.

You see when the New Republic of Marshfield gained their independence from the People’s Party of Icefield and the State of Whitemount, the deal for their independence was that the first leader of the New Republic was to be chosen by the government from the Party of Icefield and the State of Whitemount. After the leader got chosen, he created the law that the current leader of the New Republic chose its successor when their term ended. And somehow the tradition continued and The Dark Pharaoh Vladimir Caesar the Prosperous the FIRST became the 4rth leader of the New Republic; 22 years ago…

Now the leader had two choices: he could keep his family’s honor of being a strong and stubborn dictator as his father did by not giving in and proceed with the plan, (risky as he could be overthrown if he fails) or, he could listen to his people and abort the plan. However, having the stubborn personality he had he came to a conclusion to proceed with his master plan: the cutting of the tree.

Despite the warnings, protests, threats (there were some) the head of state ordered Operation T.i.m.b.e.r into action.

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A GRAY AREA VROOM… VROOM…

STOP! Shouted a young man.

“Who are you” screamed the lumberjack.

“My name is Cosmas Gabriel; I am the son of an ex-scientist who got assassinated. I am here to inform you all that the only way to seize the resource for good use is to defend the tree, borrow time to dig and refine the resources”.

Using his father's old diary, Cosmas successfully discovered the final resource underneath the tree.

Which was 100 meters apart from the tree.

The Tree

GREY

Tanks

Uniforms

Soldiers

As the conflict deepens, Cosmas secretly meets the leader and shows that the final resource that can support millions is in his hands. After the talks, the leader secedes from the government and recalls his dream as a young teenager to make the world a more sustainable and peaceful place.

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A GRAY AREA For his last order the leader calls all the soldiers to drop their weapons and allows the public to decide his fate. The public decides to keep him as the leader, but makes sure a constitution is enforced to distribute and manage the resource fairly.

For his very first order as the president of the nation, he requests Cosmas to become the Minister of Sustainable Management, but he refuses. Cosmas suggests there are many more trees with resources left in vacated areas. With a map in his hand, he starts a journey with his followers.

However, before he leaves for good, he leaves a final obscure message: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Power is handed to the man who has the most resources. It used to be money, now its trees. It's time to start everything. I shall be the pioneerâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;?

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The Circle - David Tung Character: Lucy Granger (linguist), Edward linhard (commander), Eliza chen (CSI agent), two aliens, lucas winston (physics), Daehwan jung (psychologist) and handia hugani (mathematician).

The circle Based on the movie “Arrival” Written By Amelima

“Good morning, Professor Granger!” my colleagues shouted happily to me as I walked quietly through the hallway. I pushed the door gently and the heat, which came from the enormous heater in lecture room, flew out and slapped hard against my face.

“Hello, it’s a crisp autumn day, isn’t it?” I asked while I was grabbing my laptop from my bag.

“Yeah, it’s a great day to teach,” one colleague exclaimed.

It was a great day.

----------

“Professor, can you turn on the projector?” Samuel asked impatiently, shouting from the back of the lecture room. My remote control was always waiting for me on my desk, so I grabbed it and turned on the projector. The projector opened its eye and shot the light onto the white screen.

“Breaking news! Spaceships arrived on Earth a few moments ago. They are like spherical wedges and are 450m high. Our atmosphere must not have destroyed them so they must have a totally different gravity in their spaceship. There are now 12 in the world, and we don’t know why they are here...”

The announcer seemed panicked, mostly because his voice was loud and unclear; his face was completely frozen. He continued announcing: “It’s an emergency!”

All around the world, sirens began to ring out their cries as lights abruptly blacked out.

“I think it’s time to go, right?” my voice quivered cold as an ice cube.

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As a professor of languages (I mean linguistics, seriously…), I’ve been carrying out secret research for the government and have been involved in many top secret meetings about a possible alien invasion. But I have never had this experience before….

Everyone started to walk quickly through the hallway. I went outside, too. Every single screen was announcing the news. The emergency bell still rang. “Schools and universities will be closed,” the news announced.

---------Five days passed quickly. I worked alone. The whole university was covered by darkness. I was the only professor at the University after the siren cried. Suddenly, a bright light interrupted the darkness, and the light came closer and closer. Perhaps it was the secret team’s private helicopter?

The ear-piercing propeller sound slowly faded out after the helicopter landed on the rooftop.

As expected, Edward opened the door and the short silence blew away like a feather.

“Listen to this,” Edward sighed softly like an anime character.

Edward was commander of the “Top Secret Team (TST)”, and he said he had come from the spaceship. I stayed calm even though I was slightly excited. I heard nothing, except some kind of low-growling sound.

“This is the recording from our first contact with the spaceship,” “...and they replied like this?” I questioned him, “At least they replied,” Edward sighed again. He took out an A4 paper with full of codes and a pencil. Ferrule was standing on the pencil quietly: it was forcing me to sign on the paper. He handed it to me, saying: “We will give you 30 minutes to pack up, then we have to leave to go to the spaceship."

---------I went to home, it seemed empty and cold. White breath came from my mouth. I walked through the hallway and saw a message in code. I’d seen this code before... it translated as: ‘HELP US.’ I panicked, but my curiosity was stronger than my fear. After a few seconds, the gray area started to change shape: the code started to merge into a grey orb. It became bigger and lighter until it was able to move.

I raced toward the helicopter.

The orb followed me instantly.

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The grey orb came closer and closer right after I started to gasp quicker and quicker. I didn’t want to look back as I was thinking...that it would definitely kill me and eat me, or suck my blood out like a horror movie.

The grey orb was unpredictable. It disappeared and split into lot of shapes as it came towards me, quicker and quicker. I ran faster and faster until I’m out of breath. I stopped and the grey orb disappeared. I checked that it was completely gone. Phew.

Unfortunately, it was not...

When it reappeared, I saw a cold fire inside the gray area. It seems miserable. I was standing still, and tried to calm it down. Unfortunately, it started to turn into a big gray area and covered my whole body, it surrounded me in lots of weird circle. I closed my eyes.

---------I started to experience flashbacks because I could hear my child reading her short story. But I was just 25, and didn’t have a child or husband; so I chose to stay calm, logical, and wise.

Mostly because I didn’t know what would happen if I did something wrong. I listened to my child: “At the midnight hour, the silence was all around the city but a stadium was brightly lit; the soccer fans were chanting empathetically. It was the final round of the World Cup. The score raised slowly, one by one until it was 2:2. One-minute remaining! A soccer player was running and facing the defenders. The soccer ball flew as fast as a bullet. Suddenly, the ball flew toward the attacker near the goal. It would be the only chance left. Did the attacker reach the ball? Of course, he did. The attacker controls the ball and then kicks the hardest kick ever. The ball shot with fire. Everyone stopped chanting. Silence flew around the stadium. It’s a goal!!!!!”

She gasped in and out quickly. “How is it, Mom?” “It seems good! Great job,” I replied. I hope she will hear what I’m saying but, at the same time, I didn’t want her to know my voice at all, “but, I think you should be aware of your tenses, your tense should be in the past tense, shouldn’t it?”

“Yes, mommy, I will change it.” As soon as she finished her sentence, everything that I could see slowly turned into watercolors; sound was coming in the ocean...Until I couldn’t see or hear anything.

----------

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I blinked my eyes for few time, but I couldn’t see anything. I could only hear the noise of two propellers and voices murmuring. When I heard the sound of humans’ breathing and their conversations, I felt more comfortable and safe so I decided to sleep. I still could not see anything, but I believed that I would be healed after I slept. Well, I hope.

I opened my eyes slowly...finally, I can see things normal now! I was still sitting in the helicopter; headphones were gently resting on my head. I looked around my seat. The helicopter was full of people: six in total (including me). They were talking, but I could not hear what they were saying. I frowned and tried to listen carefully but I still couldn’t make out what they were saying. Have I lost my hearing forever because I was knocked out?

Luckily, Edward handed me a paper. I gave a sigh of relief and laughed quietly when I read his message: “You have to turn on the volume on your headphones…” Finally, I started to hear them.

“Hello, Ms. Granger, it’s a great honor to meet you. I’m Lucas Winston, a philosopher, and a mathematician.” He smiled, and he shook my hand. His hands were cold as dry ice; my hands were hot like a hot-pack.

----------We had been confabulating about the strange events but did not come to an answer to explain what was going on. Suddenly we noticed the X-Range where the spaceship had landed. My blood raced through my body. The spherical-wedge-shaped spaceship was standing below us like a giant.

“Wow...” Everybody was admiring the view… Some of them were holding their hands over their mouth, some of them were taking pictures of the X-Range. Probably because of the X-range there were micro electric waves flowing through the area, so our phones switched off automatically with a flash of light!

“We made an app so you can communicate with another person wherever they are,” Edward told us in a firm voice and handed each one of us a micro USB to plug into the phone which immediately charged it and put up a barrier against the micro electric waves.

Everyone phoned their loved ones.

I tried to avoid thinking about my parents, particularly because I hadn’t heard my mother and father’s voices for so long. I remember my mother's words warmed my cold heart; dad’s tones always hammered my broken heart and fixed it, I avoided them most of the time, but now...they have gone… five years had passed after my mom and dad died.

If someone cries, we know that s/he is experiencing a strong emotion: rather mirthful, bitter or sad. However, if we cry or bleed on the inside, nobody knows except perhaps the parents.

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Sometimes, you have to hide your emotions to stay calm. I have never cried ever since I was in first grade.

“Ms. Granger? It’s time to go… hello? Ms. Granger? “Edward shouted as loud as he could, walking down the stairs. “We have to go!” exclaimed Edward, his voice eventually penetrating my brain. I’ve been kicked out of my memory thanks to Edward. As I disembarked the helicopter, lots of guards directed us into the room to showcase the new technology.

---------Sunlight went to sleep but we had a brand new day to work. We had such an indeterminately amount of work that we couldn’t even sleep over 3 hours in a week!

“What?” questioned Lucas full of excitement. “So what do we have to do?”

“First, calm down because we don’t know what will happen in there. Basically, you cannot get near to them. Furthermore, there is thick glass between you and the aliens,” answered Edward, “You can go into the fitting room and change quickly into the radiation protection suit.”

Wearing our RPS (radiation protection suit), the guards led us right below the spaceship. My hand was shaking when I started to pray. Lucas, Elize, Daehwan, and Handia prayed together. I was excited but now I could see nothing but my feet.

We were stranded on the platform with lots of tools: two sets of computers; one laptop to translate; some simple symbol cards; whiteboard per each person and lots of color markers to write on the whiteboard... we were ready.

“Start movement 1-50-400, Start movement 1-50-400.” The guard used the wireless set to let the platform stretch up into the spaceship. There was an endless big-square-hole right on top of us. We had heard that the hole contained a different gravitational field, and it would cause our oxygen to enter into our body very slowly. The platform started to move. My heartbeat went faster and faster.

Suddenly, the platform stopped and guard wanted us to walk on the grey wall. An exciting yet horrendous atmosphere flew around this entire place. The glass appeared right after we arrived in the grey area. We couldn’t see anything, except the glass, even though the glass was transparent.

---------Grrr…

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It was the voice that I heard from Edward, I was really sure. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see anything except the grey wall that we had been standing on for nearly one hour. We tried to see their shape; we tried to communicate with them. But, we failed. I realized it would never work.

Wait… I remembered the alien inside the grey area in my home. It was possible that they were trying to tell me something. Even though Edward said we couldn’t go near, I had to, without my RPS to show that I was human. I wrote “Lucy Granger” on my whiteboard, which was my name.

My brain needed oxygen because I had taken off my suit. There was no wind or any other substance that might help us to understand. There was nothing but a glass wall blocking us.

Unanticipatededly, a gray shadow appeared in front of the glass wall. It was enormous but not horrifying. The black shadow started to use its tentacle to draw a circle with lots of symbol on it. This grey shadow was hiding in the gray area, but we knew it was round just like a giant marble. However, it seemed familiar to me. I’ve seen this before…

Is it…?

Could it really be?

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Lost Memories – Saeha Kim “Noooo…!” I clamored wistfully. This one word had escaped my mouth.

The scene repeated in my head, and I only got more mournful and bitter every time. It can’t be true…

I pleaded: “Father this is not true... right? Tell me honestly.”

“Sorry, but I think I’m supposed to tell you the truth…”

At that moment, I felt like my brain was pinched with a thin, pointed nail. I deliberately realized that I had to accept the painful truth that made my heart full of misery. My mother had passed away… ************************** After six somber months, one evening my father came back from his work.

Huh? In my surprised eyes, there was this very original looking women standing with strong coloured, red, high heels on. My mouth carefully opened and I mysteriously announced, “Um, Father who’s that women beside you?”

“It’s your mother!” he immediately barked as aggressively as a bulldog.

“What do you mean? That’s not my mother,” I confusingly spoke.

“It is your new mother; can’t you understand!”

As the words passed through my erect ears, they made my brain stop for a second. I couldn’t believe my father was that kind of a person who doesn’t care about his old wife and just marries everyone even though this is a really heartbreaking thing to do to my mom and her children! I couldn’t believe this… I was very shocked at that time, but I said “hi” to the lady, when my brain was all white like a plain A4 paper because of the unexpected thing that just happened in front of me without any caution or a single sign. I didn’t want to accept that the woman was my new mom, so I was thinking of calling her “lady”.

After that scene, I went to my room. When I was about to do my homework which was after 30 minutes; the lady came into my room.

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“Now, I’m your mother so just behave towards me like you behaved towards your mom,” she spoke with the edge of her lipstick pointing upwards.

Uhhhhhhh!

In the inside of me, I was thinking “I don’t even accept her as my mother and I don’t want any fake mother except my real mom and she is not even alive. Is the lady stupid, selfish or mean?”

But I just told the lady, “Ok, I’ll try to.”

I just stomped out and dashed to my annoying little brother’s room. Spontaneously, I asked my brother seriously, “Do you like the new mom or that person?”

“Yes, why not? Don’t you? Like we got a mom so why not? Is there a reason to?” I was so surprised so for no reason I shouted in front of my brother’s face, “Aren’t you sorry for your mom if you like the lady!”

That moment, my anger had exploded like the volcano Mount Vesuvius. I slammed and kicked the stable wooden door... my tears rolled down my skin and created a bunch of miniature ponds on the flat floor. The ponds reflected and glared me and I just stared at my reflection; looking at myself wistfully. Nonetheless, the tears were not even trying to stop and when time passed and passed there were more and more drops escaping my wet, watery eyes.

The next depressing day, I lumbered along, looking at the floor like a zombie, to make the nasty women realize that I didn’t care about her unlike my mom. At that time, the women stared at me with no facial expression. I was freaked out for a second; however, I carried on behaving negatively. Instinctively at that time, my little brother who has no tact, was running towards us, unconsciously, towards the frosty atmosphere between me and that lady. I screeched towards his face because I was angry and annoyed that he just ran towards us not realizing what was going on! My skin had turned as if I had a rash. Also my veins popped out on my sight and my hands were vibrating. My anger was going up and then it hit my highest indignation gage... This time I couldn’t even breathe normally. I was contemplating for a while, when the minute hand of the clock had made a few ‘tick’ sounds. When there were enough of the ‘tick’, I started to make a serious decision. Bravely, I decided to mention that she wasn’t likeable to me…

I lifted my head and placed my eyes directly to her eyes; her eyes reflected me and my eyes reflected her. She stared at me, with this weird and cringy smile, but I could look through her and notice her real facial expression and that she wasn’t actually smiling. I didn’t care this time unlike before. Also I wasn’t scared… If I was scared and didn’t decide to tell her that I disliked her right now, this would have been going on forever, unlimitedly.

I opened my mouth and was ready to shout out. One by one, my letters attacked her heart as if my letters were like soldiers with spear pinching her heart. Continuously, every single word was ripping her heart and her mouth suddenly opened and opened as if her mouth and her heart 277 | P a g e

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ware attached. It seemed like as her heart was pressed by the word as if her heart was a button and her mouth was a gate which was opening after the hit. When the last spear made her heart feel the last pain, her mouth was widely open and her heart was demolished inside of her; it turned into a million pieces like drops of blood. I could have notice what was happening inside of her… Her face had morphed. Her facial expression, colour, happiness disappeared and had formed an opposite face.

Suddenly…it formed tears, Suddenly...her smile had fallen down, Suddenly... her face colour was grey pink,

Suddenly…

I was shocked and sorry. If someone asked which super power you wanted right now I would have been pleased to have a ability to go to the past. However, nobody asked me and having a superpower would come out in like a fairy tale and this was reality. I had to accept it. Realizing the reality I had nothing and no ability, but I could hide. So I just slammed then locked my door behind me and threw myself into my bed. It felt similar to if I was in a prison like I was one of the prisoners who had just got sent to the prison to think back about what they had done wrong. I reflected upon what I had done to her. Slowly, I closed my eyes. My sight was turning as a wide black screen and my brain had stopped working. I fell asleep…

For some reason, my dad didn’t shout at me for being so mean to this new mom.

“Try not to cry,” I heard him whispering to that lady, “You know it’s not her fault. We will take her back to the doctor tomorrow…”

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

When the bright morning had come with the sun rise, I traveled to the nearest hospital with my father, brother and my new…’mom’.

Apparently, there was something wrong with me.

‘Come in’ announced the doctor. I was praying with my pulsating veins pumping madly wishing that there was no problem. I lumbered into a dark shadowy room to take an x-ray. The bright 278 | P a g e

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radio-light was scanning me. After that, I came back with the same feeling I had when I first entered the consultation room. The doctor started to gaze at my results and his facial expression had turned from happy to serious; his face was showing a total juxtaposition. It was a total irony too.

‘Why is his face serious when my face has to be!’ I complained inside of me. It’s giving me more fear with his face. As I watched his facial expressions, a great fear travelled down my delicate spine. ‘Like wh…

“Don’t worry,” announced the doctor stopping my complaining. “Your result has come out and it states that you have a severe amnesia,” declared the doctor really seriously like if it was a situation that I was going to die…

“Is it serious…?” “Am I going to die? like pass away? With big fear I threw out the words loudly.

“Oh don’t worry you are not going to lose all of your memory,” the doctor declared calmly. Lose my memory? But I haven’t forgotten anything. Or have I? “Are you sure that it’s not a big thing?” I pleaded.

“Of course!’ the doctor exclaimed. That time my heart stopped beating really fast and was coming back to my normal heart beat.

“However…” the doctor stated, even after my heart was full calmed down; the red blood cells had sped up, my heart beat fast again.

“Maybe you are going to lose more of your memories if time passes-“ “There is a surgery to fix this right? Say yes! Please say yes…” I maintained.

“No, the only thing that will work is if you keep hearing the truth.” the doctor replied carefully.

“Then make it possible! Make it!’ I screamed aggressively as if I had lost everything; like I’m right now...

Beep!

I hold up the doctor's sleeve and shouted right at his face. Then my father had grabbed and pulled me out of the consultation room and back to my home. For an hour I was really in shock, but when I had calmed down a bit I started speaking seriously to my families. ****************************** “No, the only thing that will work is if you keep hearing the truth.” the doctor replied carefully.

“The make it possible! Make it!’ I screamed aggressively as if I had lost everything; like I’m right now...

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“Daughter I’m so sorry we all knew you had amnesia. We didn’t tell you because I thought that would make your happiness disappear,” my dad started to explain all the truth that I didn’t know.

“Plus the mom that's here right now with us is your real mom. Your memories had disappeared and you are remembering a fake truth, “My dad hesitated and exclaimed, “Your mom is not dead…”

When I heard that my mom wasn’t dead and was with me every time; I was really shocked, thankful, but sorry too…

“What happened was that day your mom didn’t die, however, you had an accident. When we went to the hospital we got told by the doctor that your brain got damaged which would make your memories disappear and that you would remember something else.” my father seemed really depressed, remembering the memories that he didn’t want to remember again…

“Also we were shocked when we heard that you had got amnesia… This is why you thought that your mom had died. Every day we noticed that you were remembering the wrong thing and were acting really weirdly. We were really sad especially your mom, but we were acting to keep your happiness. We are really apologetic to you…” my father had spoken to me about all the things that he couldn’t tell me and I was really thankful to him. However, I felt really angry with him that he hadn’t told me earlier before what I did to my mom...

“I’m really sorry…” My tears fell down, but in my heart it hurt so much and I wanted to kill myself. I knew that it was because of amnesia, but I couldn’t forgive my-self.

“Daughter” my mom had started speaking. “I’m not hurt by what you did for me. So don’t be sorry. The person who has to be sorry is me right now because I made you worry about me for a long time. But there is more time. More time for you to make me happy.”

I was really impressed by my mom. I wanted to give her all everything that I had. So I decided to give her all that I have: all of my heart to her until I die.

To show her my true love…

And this time, I will never forget.

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What is home? (A lazily written memoir) – Zayed Shaikh I’ve come back home but I don’t feel at home.

Seoul was a weird scenario at first but then I turned it into something good but India is not a weird scenario - it’s a bad one! People here are less sincere, open-minded and kind (at least in the city).

But there are some really nice people though…

My boarding school which is also my regular school isn’t bad but I’m not happy here. They put us on a tight leash. The school is disorganized. I’ve been here for a month yet I still haven’t gotten every piece of uniform.

Singapore International School: that’s what my school is called and there’s nothing Singaporean about it and there’s nothing that lives up to Singaporean standards.

I thought I was going to Singapore to a Singaporean school and that I wouldn’t have had to go study in India. If only I knew it was Singapore International School, Mumbai…. emphasis on Mumbai. I actually thought that I was shifting to Singapore because I’ve seen my father looking up International School in Singapore and I knew that after leaving Seoul he’d be working in Singapore. I thought we were going back to India so that my grandmother could also come and live with us because she lived with us in Singapore for 6 years. But that didn’t happen at all

The school food is really bad. So oily, I see the food glistening with oil. Considering I have to eat this on a daily basis it’s bad - really bad. It tastes bad (because they don’t prepare it correctly) and it’s bad for you. Indian food is generally unhealthy. I’m happy to eat unhealthy food that tastes good. But the meals get better for boarders because the regular students are gone. The catering service has to make less food so they start focusing on quality. Whenever MUN stuff happens and students from other schools come the school food is at its peak because it tastes like a proper home-cooked meal.

Also, the school food is vegetarian. People here are quite sensitive when it comes to religious beliefs…

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So on Friday, all the boarders go to McDonalds where we all fulfill our non-vegetarian desires.

Outside the McDonalds, I saw a poor child and all the boarders brushed past that poor child and it hit me hard.

How could I be helping children in Cambodia and forget about my own people?

So I bought the kid some food from McDonalds and I ate less that day. It wasn’t the child that shocked me; it was how all of my friends ignored that child that shocked me. In India, most people ignore the needy so the needy mainly receive help because of religious beliefs and practices.

Otherwise, I mainly see people brush past.

From that day I ate the school food without complaint because I am fortunate to have food to eat and water to drink unlike many of my people.

When I reflect on my life, it’s the small things that matter because when you reflect on them you realize that those were the big things. Playing with my neighborhood friends; gazing out into the moonlit sky; appreciating the beauty of the four seasons and going to school…

Every day was exciting, every day was a new adventure and I was happy.

If I were to describe my education, I think that this would be a very accurate depiction of it.

Country

Good/Bad

Reason

Singapore

Good

My public school was very good.

Hong Kong

Bad

I lived very close to Discovery Bay but I didn’t get admitted there and was sent to a public school that didn’t have a playground/

South Korea

Too Good

First international school experience. Greatest school I’ve been to so far.

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India

Bad

UNIVERSITY??????? Hopefully good?

It would be considered good from a person who has only studied in India but quite bad from a foreigner’s view. It’s a downgrade from SFS. If I know math, I know that the sequence shouldn’t fail me.

I guess my time in SFS has made me somewhat wiser because I did hear some very wise words.

The wisest words I’ve ever heard is that “Progress is not a straight line.” and I didn’t hear it from any speeches from Obama.

I don’t know if I felt at home because I had my family and my friends. Now, in boarding school I only have my friends.

So what makes home feel like home? Is it the location or the people? Maybe, it’s both, I really don’t know. I guess I really like the atmosphere that was made by both the students and teachers. It was a safe environment for learning and that we wouldn’t criticize each other for our curiosity- most of the time.

In my first 2 weeks of school I was quite disheartened. The administrators let me go home on the weekends and I called my Dad. We spoke about all the possibilities of where I could go if I studied hard. If I study really hard eventually I could study in Singapore and if that did happen my family wouldn’t have to be divided anymore. If I improve they could pull me out of boarding.

He told me about his past and about our family’s humble beginning but I couldn’t grasp an understanding of his situation because I hadn’t seen much poverty. What shocked me the most was when my father told me was about his education. He went to a school with an annual fee of 60 Indian rupees.

1000 KRW equals to 64 Indian rupees.

1 USD equals to 65 Indian rupees.

My father attended a school with an annual fee which is less than 1 dollar!

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Considering that he started from scratch to work at this higher level shocked me. He told me about his aspirations. Originally he wanted to be a pilot. When he had kids, however, his aspirations changed. He pushed his childhood dream of becoming a pilot aside and focused on his main aspiration which was to make sure that his children could have a better life. Heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s counting on me to succeed in life so that he can focus on becoming a pilot and so that I can enjoy life.

He discussed about how he was happy in Singapore and Hong Kong but he moved to Seoul so that me and my brother could have a better education. He talked about how he was bored with his job and how grumpy that made him and how that overall made him a boring person. He also said that he loves me.

At the end of our conversation I promised my father that I will succeed and, from that day, I accepted my current predicament and maintained a positive outlook on life.

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m no longer disheartened.

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The Teacher Doesn’t Know – Angela Bang Contains content that might upset sensitive readers Angela challenged herself to use different types of narrators for each point of view.

Hannah (2nd person)

You woke up with the sound of the dogs barking and the ambulance sirens; also your alarm.

You checked your phone and it read ‘9:30’. Well, for school that’s late but for you, it’s just on time. You didn’t care for school; school didn’t care for you. Well school was the only place you hated as much as your home. Trying to be a good student, you walked down the crumbly, grey stairs and unfortunately you were greeted by our mother passed out on the ragged up sofa with a half empty bottle...of something.

I snatched the bottle away from my mom and gulped the leftover down.

As we opened the door, we were welcomed with the presence of a 40 year old looking man. He looked familiar. Oh right, he’s one of those men our mom ‘entertains’. I immediately spoke up before he could start growling, “Good Morning mister, how about leaving right now and never coming back. Before I punch the heck out of you” He smirked whilst biting his lips trying to seduce me by whispering, “ Well next time I’ll come for you not your…”

I punched his mouth before he could finish. With that, you walked to school with your bag on your shoulders.

Classroom (third person )

The door opens and a boy saunters into the classroom. Everyone continues to talk whilst he walks to his seat and plops onto his desk, rests his head on his arm and closes his eyes looking out the window. The door slams open again and silence fills the classroom.

“Max” the teacher calls out.

“Present” Max answers.

“Noah” he calls out again.

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“Present” Noah answers with his head rested on his arm.

“Doesn’t look like you are present in my lesson to me. Stand up.” he calls out squinting his eyes.

Noah stands up and looks straight into his eyes and responds, “Present teacher” “Nice to hear Mr.Baker. Jacob?”

Silence fills the classroom.

“Alex? Mathew? well as expected.”

The teacher scans the students and speaks.

“Nice to meet you class, I am your new teacher Mr.Kim. I am just like other teachers. No bullying, drinking, breaking rules and no smoking. There will be consequences for breaking all these. Other than that, enjoy--” The door slams open again. Three troublesome boys and the two sisters enter along with them.

Whispers fill the class.

Hannah “Well, well, you guys appeared just in time. Nice to meet you all. As you are all late, note that there is detention.”

The teacher said as soon as you and the three boys walked into class.

“Leave me out.” Jacob growled.

Mr. Kim squinted his eyes hesitantly but accepted this. He lay his eyes on me with a bittersweet smile.

“Ah- new student, what an impression not wearing uniform, come up and introduce yourself.”

Annoyed, you sauntered to the front of class and smirked.

“Name’s Y/N, don’t bother me.”

“Thank you Y/N. Okay now, class president, stand up please” The boy with his head on his shoulders stood up. You were mesmerized the second you saw him, dumbfounded and anxious, wondering if he is the person you are thinking of … Noah 286 | P a g e

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Noah

“Okay now class president stand up please” ‘Well that’s my cue’ and with that I gradually stood up. Not wanting to ruin my morning again with this new teacher, I focused my eyes to the floor and greeted him. As my eyes were wandering off to the floor, I noticed a girl next to Mr.Kim. She reminded me of someon… That’s when it struck me.

My heart skipped a beat. It’s Y/N. I never thought I would be seeing her again after that tragic accident two years ago. The painful memories kept killing my brains and I found myself sweating.

Mr.Kim

Without Noah and Hannah noticing, they were staring at each other, as if they were reading their souls. So myself knowing the situation, I nudged Hannah to go sit at an empty seat.

As teacher, I knew about everyone’s background and their relationship issues, that’s why for example I put Hannah in Noah’s class. They had a tragic history together and because of that they became even more problematic. Therefore, the only way I can help as a teacher is to have them face their situation and make them somehow figure a way out. And just by the looks of it, the seemed to have already recognised each other. Now my part is done, it’s up to them to find a way out now…

Classroom (third person )

“So, as I was saying, the detention for you three is to go find a part time job to learn some manners. Any job is find guys. Oh yeah and if you decide not to do this, I will be bringing your parents in. Now if you will excuse me. Have a nice day.” with that, Mr.Kim left.

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Alex and Matthew froze in their seats at the mention of parents. That was a weak spot for them. They could not disappoint their father, he would just disrespect and harm your mother even more. This is the first time they felt an urge to do something in school.

Without any thoughts, the boys exchanged glances and quickly sprinted out the classroom together.

On the other hand, Hannah and her sister were not affected a little bit, knowing their parents would never care about what happened in school; if they got detention or not. Well, the girls weren’t the main purpose of this detention; it was to get the boys to actually start taking responsibility.

Hannah This weekend, you woke up with the sound of the dogs barking and the ambulance sirens; also your alarm. You check your phone and it reads ‘9:30’. Well, if you were going to school that would be late but today it was not. You and I were finding a part time job. Why you may ask?

Well, it’s to prove to the teacher that whatever he tries and whatever we do, he will never be able to help us out of our gray area or make us find a way out of it.

You walked down the crumbly, grey stairs and unfortunately you were greeted by our mother passed out on the ragged up sofa with a half empty bottle. You were greeted every morning with a passed out mother, so it was nothing surprising. This time, you snatched the bottle away from our mom and gulped the leftovers down.

As we opened the door, we were welcomed with another 40-year-old looking man. He looked more familiar than the one before. Oh right, he’s another one of our mom’s ex-boyfriends which she had just ‘entertained’. You instinctively spoke up before he could start growling, “Good Morning Mister, how about leaving right now and never coming back. Before I punch the heck out of you” He smirked whilst biting his lips trying to seduce you by whispering, “Well next time I’ll come for you not your…”

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You punched his mouth before he could finish. With that, we walked to the main road, to go looking for a part time job.

And that is something that Mr. Kim will never understand. Job or no job. Nothing will change our gray area...

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