The four seasons

THE FOUR SEASONS

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Contents Michelle Yun ............................................................................................................ 6

By Jacqueline Valentine Ramsden .................................................................................. 17 Mina Hwang ............................................................................................................ 19 Arit Sharma ............................................................................................................ 24 Daniel Hahm ........................................................................................................... 29 Paola Noriega.......................................................................................................... 33 Brian Kim............................................................................................................... 37 Marley Seymour ....................................................................................................... 44 Graca Kiboi ............................................................................................................ 48 Alexander Kim ......................................................................................................... 50 Sue Kim................................................................................................................. 51 Sion Kim ................................................................................................................ 53 Annabelle Park ........................................................................................................ 56 Alice Lee ............................................................................................................... 63 Yeob Kim ............................................................................................................... 65 Elina Lee ............................................................................................................... 66 Monica Nam ............................................................................................................ 69 Kinga Gross ............................................................................................................ 72 Insoo Kang ............................................................................................................. 74 Pia Jensen ............................................................................................................. 76 Taewon Kwon.......................................................................................................... 80 Brandon Sohn and James Oh ........................................................................................ 84 Alexia Diamany ........................................................................................................ 95 Stuart Toft ............................................................................................................. 99 Adam Kennedy ...................................................................................................... 100 Noah Jung ............................................................................................................ 102 Ligun Rhi ............................................................................................................. 105 Jessica McLaughlin and Jung Kwon ............................................................................... 108 Eunice Ra ............................................................................................................ 112 Meen Choi ............................................................................................................ 115 Irene Sung............................................................................................................ 119 Luke Chang .......................................................................................................... 123 Jennifer Lee ......................................................................................................... 126 Bhumika Bhatia ..................................................................................................... 129

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Yoshinaga Kozawa .................................................................................................. 132 Kiriko Ogawa ........................................................................................................ 134 Omar Alkhatib ....................................................................................................... 138 Michelle Jang ........................................................................................................ 140 Sebastian Kang ...................................................................................................... 145 Sophie Rotax......................................................................................................... 148 Alex Dohun Kim ..................................................................................................... 153 Christina Yoo ........................................................................................................ 156 Henk Jan de Boer ................................................................................................... 161 Josefine Vibe Hansen ............................................................................................... 164 Taewon Kwon........................................................................................................ 168 Amanda Bang ........................................................................................................ 172 Shane Kim ............................................................................................................ 180 Julia Kern ............................................................................................................ 185 Brandon Cho ......................................................................................................... 188 Megan Loney ......................................................................................................... 192 Shlokk Moolchandani ............................................................................................... 194 Min Yong ............................................................................................................. 196 Cordelia Seymour ................................................................................................... 198 Gioele Trabucchi .................................................................................................... 203 Silje Jasienski ....................................................................................................... 208 Juna Jang ............................................................................................................ 211 Paul Kim and Thane Yun ........................................................................................... 215 Aayushi Swadia ...................................................................................................... 219 Benjamin Choi ....................................................................................................... 223 Alyssa Choi ........................................................................................................... 227 Vincent Djuanda .................................................................................................... 230 Eunice Cho ........................................................................................................... 234 Hyong Kim ........................................................................................................... 238 Soo-min Tark ........................................................................................................ 249 Katherine Oh ........................................................................................................ 251 Maya Lycett .......................................................................................................... 255 Abraham Choi ....................................................................................................... 258 Amy Ma ............................................................................................................... 266 Johannes Park ....................................................................................................... 271 Jay Kim ............................................................................................................... 273 KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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Vincent Thai ......................................................................................................... 276 Yunhyuk Kang ....................................................................................................... 280

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Yourself

Concealed in a room of emptiness No one equals nothing But keep on surviving As you are strong Trust can equal to lies Despise all that is said Chin up Stand straight Be confident Since who you are is truly beautiful So don’t change!

Idan Schlesinger

A big thank you to everyone who made this book possible: Mrs. Sally Corben and Maya Lycett for the book cover.

Michelle Yun for the blurb.

My co-editors, Bhumika Bhatia, Zoish Dubash, Claudia Lui and Alexandre Rotival‌

And, of course, all the writers!

You have done an amazing job!

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Changing of the Seasons Michelle Yun “Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all.”

~Stanley Horowitz

There is a park where all four seasons crossover. On any given day, it may rain, it may snow, the sun may shine, or the wind may blow...

At the northern entrance of the park are a pair of beautiful golden gates, adorned by the most luminous of colossal pearls. But for some strange reason, the closer you get to this magnificent entrance, the further away it seems to move.

The far side of the park sits facing the crystal clear waters of Lake Ciel, where seagulls sometimes flock about on the sandy shores as they fight each other over pieces of sesame bread. A middle‐aged woman jogs by in yoga pants as she leads her Golden Retriever by leash. A cluster of young children shriek and run about as they laugh and dance to the music that their ears alone can hear. A businessman looks up, his face softening for the briefest of seconds, before shaking his head and turning back to his laptop.

On this particular morning, the sun rose and painted the sky a palette of spectacular colors, while the air whispered and spoke of unfulfilled promises. As the last of the sun’s rays broke through the cloudy sky, they stilled and came to rest upon four very different teenagers:

A shy, plain‐looking girl with a heart so full—so lovely—that she left a trail of spring’s beauty everywhere that she went.

A good looking, blond‐haired boy with a laugh that reflected all the youth of summer’s glory.

A young Asian girl sketching in a drawing pad with hands that seemed to flutter around like the falling of autumn leaves.

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And a dark‐haired boy with icy blue eyes as sharp and bitter as the winter’s edge.

And so this leads us to ponder… perhaps this is what we meant when we said that the seasons are nature’s way of showing us how to live.

Spring’s Beauty:

“Spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men.”

~Chinese Proverb

She sat in front of the flower garden as she quietly read from her book Pride and Prejudice. She had the sort of face that you could never quite remember—her features in the right place but nothing about them standing out. Even her name was hard to recall… it began with a ‘k’ but it’s hard to say what it exactly was.

She was one of those students that you could attend high school with for the past four years and still not remember when the time came to sign yearbooks.

Her cellphone buzzed.

*hey sweetie! how r u doing? kaia just finished her ‘spring fever’ concert tour in LA and tmrw we’re heading to france to sign her with a new modelling agency. u should be so proud of ur older sister! xoxo

‐mom

Kaia. Where to even start? She was the perfect daughter… the perfect student… the perfect everything. She had been in gifted and talented programs, achieved valedictorian and varsity captainship, triumphed in singing and dancing competitions… She received lead roles in plays, signed with various modelling agencies, became a Youtube sensation, and now was touring around the world… Kaia was definitely the better sibling while all that ‘k’ got were the leftovers…

And yet, she never once complained.

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The distribution of graces between sisters could not be helped and it was neither her parents nor sister’s fault that she had been born with plain brown hair instead of Kaia’s silvery blond.

Kaia might have gotten the looks and the talent but ‘k’ had gotten the heart. She was a little like a butterfly—leaving a trail of flowers and kindness everywhere that she went…

If only people would take the time to notice that the spring blossoms they see everywhere were born through love and service. Because even the most kindhearted butterflies tire when spring passes and the April showers come.

Summer’s Glory: “Tears of joy are like the summer rain drops pierced by sunbeams.”

~Hosea Ballou

He lounged against a wooden bench as if it were his throne, his face tilted towards the glowing sky and his eyes half closed—his hair the color of the summer sun. A bird twitters in the tree next to him and he lazily opens his eyes to glance up at the summer leaves.

Almost as if it were planned, everyone within a fifteen‐meter radius turn their heads to stare at him, drawn by his enchanting evergreen eyes—as lovely as the summer’s glory.

He gives a halfhearted yawn and winks at the girl nearest to him.

“Hey Anderson!”

At this, everyone who wasn’t staring before turns to look at him. This was not just any Anderson, this was the Anderson.

Connor Anderson: son of the famous Matthew Anderson, heir to a multibillion dollar company, and leading star quarterback of Easton High School.

Connor Anderson: currently in his senior year of high school and accepted into all the top football schools—most of them on scholarships.

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Connor Anderson... in love with his best friend, Gwen.

There isn’t much to say about Connor Anderson. He was simply one of those rare, lucky people who had everything they wanted, where they wanted.

Autumn Leaves: “Autumn, the year’s last loveliest smile.”

~William Cullen Bryant

An eerie sketch of a flock of crows perched on pumpkins began to appear on the white sheet of art paper. The detail was so intricate—so precise—that if you looked closely enough you could have sworn that their feathers seemed to move.

In the center of all this was a lifelike scarecrow with straw for its body and a shredded potato sack for a head. Akira added finishing touches to the masterpiece before signing her name on the bottom‐right corner of the paper.

She sighed and flipped through her drawings. There were sketches of acorns and berries, sunsets and autumn leaves. They all fluttered by as her art told the story of her life.

Next to her pile of colored pencils, pieces of charcoal, and watercolor paints, lay a stack of untouched and unopened books: The History of Medicine, An Introductory Guide to Medicine, Groundbreaking Medical Discoveries of the 20th Century…

All Akira had ever wanted to do was to draw and paint and create for the rest of her life. Nothing sparked her interest as much as a blank, white canvas begging to be imagined on.

All her parents had ever wanted her to become was a doctor. They were, after all, Elijah and Miranda Cho—the highly respected and accomplished neuroscientist married couple. They had met each other on the field while researching brain changes during the adolescent years. Thanks to these discoveries, Akira’s parents were convinced that her passion towards art was based simply off of rebellious teenage hormones. After all, how could the only child of the prestigious Cho family want to pursue an unstable and KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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unsuccessful career in art?

But the more her parents discouraged her, the more Akira wanted to draw and paint and create for the rest of her life. Nothing sparked her interest as much as a blank, white canvas begging to be imagined on. And so under her parents’ criticism, Akira’s sketchbook grew thicker with her drawings and creations. Now she was working on her final masterpiece in hopes that her parents would see her work and change their minds on art school.

It was her last chance. The final burst of beauty that nature saves for the grand finale of autumn.

Winter’s Edge: “Melancholy were the sounds on a winter night.”

~Virginia Woolf

The sun did not reach him.

Its light bent and spiraled around the big pine tree, illuminating the crystal snowflakes that rested on its branches… but even as it tried it could not penetrate the frosty depths of his cold, blue eyes. Below these icy orbs, a deep bruise of indigo and cerulean seemed to trace along his jawline.

His name was Aspen. He had no last name and no family. At least, not anymore. A time ago he had been surrounded by laughter and twinkling fairy lights on Christmas trees… but now that all seemed a dream as far away as the soaring winter mountains.

It hadn’t always been like this. Once upon a time, he used to have wonderful father who would teach him how to shovel the driveway and fasten snow tires on cars. He used to have an admirable older brother who would listen to him when he talked and occasionally buy him small surprises from the dime store. A world ago, he used to have a warm, loving mother who would feed him homemade gingersnap cookies fresh from the oven.

Now he had an alcoholic father, a runaway brother… and no mother.

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It seemed to him that the blissful winters that had once been so warm had suddenly turned to ice.

Changing of the Seasons: “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.”

~Ecclesiastes 3

A chilling breeze rises from the west side of the park. From the east, the sun scorches and burns to meet the challenge. But no matter how the two elements wage war against each other, both are too evenly matched and only succeed in creating a divide in the seasons.

Spring’s Begining: “The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.”

~Anonymous

“Hi.”

‘k’ looked up to see a boy with hazel eyes and dusty brown hair standing in front of her. She folded down the page of her book.

“Can I help you?” ‘k’ asked cautiously. It had been a while since anyone had talked to her. He smiled almost sheepishly.

“No, it’s just… I just wanted to say that…” The boy looked uncomfortable. “You have really pretty eyes.” ‘k’ could feel herself blush as the he gave her a boyish grin before making his way back to his group of friends. She heard them laugh and wolf whistle as the boy turned KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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around to wave.

And somewhere in the world, spring began.

Summer Euphoria: “I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.”

~E.V. Millay

They had grown up together, Gwen and Connor. While he was constantly getting in trouble for his reckless and arrogant behavior, she was the clever one who knew how to be daring and evasive at the same time.

She wasn’t anything like the other girls he had dated before. Everything about her was so different—so easy—and when he was around her he could feel himself become intoxicated on her euphoria.

They said that he was summer, when in all actuality it was Gwen who carried the evergreen with her.

For eighteen years now Connor had watched countless opportunities slip out from between his fingers. But today... the sky was so blue and the sand beneath his feet so warm that he felt drunk on the heat of the sun. Today was the day that children throw pennies into wishing wells and draw flowers on the scorching hot sidewalk.

So Connor stands up and yawns like a drowsy cat. Today is the day that he will make her his… and if that doesn’t work then perhaps he’ll go off to break a few more hearts.

Autumn’s Storm: “How beautiful leaves grow old. How full of color are their last days.”

~John Burroughs

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Akira sat up abruptly, knocking her artwork to the ground. As she fumbled to rearrange her pastels, she glanced up fearfully at the tall figure in front of her.

“Father,” she mumbled.

“Your finals are coming up in three weeks and you sit here scribbling on a piece of paper? Do not disgrace your family! Why are you not studying?”

Akira sat in silence as she slowly flipped through the pages of her drawing pad. Finally she spoke up. “Father, there’s something that I want to seriously discuss with you.”

With trembling hands, Akira offered her father the final page of her sketchbook and as he accepted her masterpiece she felt as though her drawing came alive with hope under his gaze.

Shyly, Akira began to explain, “Do you remember when you took me to the art museum when I was five? Well ever since then all I can think about is having my work up on the walls alongside all those amazing artists. I know that you’ve always wanted me to become a doctor and follow in your footsteps, but all I’ve ever wanted to do was become an artist. Father, please let me go to art school and I promise that I will bring home beautiful masterpieces and top certificates of honor.”

Her father was silent as stared at her drawing and after what seemed like a million years he finally looked up…

And tore her masterpiece in half.

When he spoke his voice was deathly calm, “The only thing that you will bring home is shame to the family name. Must I tell you time and time again? No true daughter of mine and child of the prestigious Cho family will ever, ever study in art.”

He walked away and took her last hopes for creativity—her final colors—with him.

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Winter’s Frost: “Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well… winter is coming.”

~George R.R. Martin

It began with C. No matter what direction you looked—no matter where you went… it always came back to C.

CANCER.

What an ugly word. Before the CANCER came, the coldest thing that Aspen had known was the winter’s frost. After, it seemed that every shot of vodka his father downed, every night his brother didn’t come home, and every day that the snow fell on his mother’s tombstone… it all seemed a thousand times colder.

How was it fair that the golden‐haired boy on the other side of the park laughed and flirted, while tonight Aspen would return to an chillingly empty house?

Who can say? It’s a roll of the dice that decides where the cold winds blow.

Changing of the Seasons: “Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.

Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.

Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.

Winter passes and one remembers one’s endurance.”

~Yoko Ono

Time slows down. For the moment, the changing of the seasons have come to a halt as they stop to watch the fates intervene in their work.

Next to the flower garden, ‘k’ lifts her head. Standing on the sandy shores, Connor turns as if he’s been tapped by an invisible person. Akira drops her pastels again and looks up instead. The snowflakes brush against Aspen’s ear and almost reluctantly he turns to complete the cycle.

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Their eyes meet.

Spring Blossoms:

“Should I say something?’ she wonders to herself; but they were probably busy and she would hate to be a bother. They had places to go and people to meet and nowadays no one seemed to have the time to stop and chat for a minute.

She picks a spring blossom on her way out.

Summer’s Glow:

He took a step towards the three figures standing in the distance. Something about them seemed so familiar and a small part of him wanted to understand what that was… yet the other part reminded him that it had never been in his nature to slow down for even a moment’s glance.

Besides, Gwen was waiting.

The summer glow beat down on his back as he turned to leave.

Autumn’s Fall: She felt a strange emptiness as she watched them hover at the edges of the park. She felt stripped bare as she felt the cold wind whipping around her. It was time to study for those finals.

For all she knew, autumn had already taken its fall.

Winter’s Snow:

They were all so naive. How could they not see the fates strain against the chains that they had forced themselves into? How could they not hear the disappointed cries as one by one they walked away?

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was an endless cycle that was destined to repeat itself over and over and over again.

I could intervene, he thought to himself… help the fates finally accomplish what they had been trying to do for the past hundreds and thousands of years…

But then again… no one had picked up after all of his messes. And the fates had never been kind to him anyway.

He let the winter snow fall behind him.

Changing of the Seasons: “And I’m lost behind, The worlds I’ll never find, And I’m left behind As seasons roll by.”

~Chris Cornell

There is a park where all four seasons crossover. On any given day, it may rain, it may snow, the sun may shine, or the wind may blow...

And yet, even in this park where all four seasons collide, we are forced to stand back and watch as spring and summer and autumn and winter come and go their separate ways.

And we are once again reminded that even after all these many years...

The four seasons were just never meant to meet.

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I See You

By Jacqueline Valentine Ramsden 6:00am The “newly awoken” -emerging from their caves- roll onto the train as a blur of black trench coats and brown leather briefcases ... drained from the hours of sleep not slept. Every step, every blink laced in the dread of The Commute. Hot coffees in hand and scarves bundled, they attempt to feel the comfort of warmth that will never come. Silence…echoes. The only sound is the whisper of their heavy regrets, unspoken secrets and persistent depression… …What’s the point? It’s bad pay anyway.

I want to go back to high school.

I should give up…

10:00am …The happiness spreads like wildfire. The contagious disease of a smile -accompanied by sunshine- is reflected back at you. A mirror to joy. Wise elders and their innocent young ones board as if they’ll be taken to a parallel universe; a place un-explored.

The windows are stained with little frosted fingerprints from the impatience of the children, eager to run, eager learn. The very corners of their imagination could never be reached as they are too vast, too spectacular for a simple minded spectator. The contrast between the wrinkled grandparents to the animated grandchildren is humbling. Like a withering leaf nurturing a vulnerable spring bud…

1:00pm …Shrieks of laughter and screams of excitement. Your first impression will be that we’re about to be stampeded by rhinos, and then it dawns on you… teenagers! The commotion of lunchtime shenanigans erupts around you. “Crash, Bang, Smash!” would be an understatement. Three of them sit in two chairs, soda cans dropped under the no drinking sign. Their eyes bounce of the walls refusing to settle: A simmering rage threatens to burst from your gut as they bombard the carriage, but it is soon calmed. You… You were once incredibly irresponsible but tremendously energetic. Horribly rebellious but fabulously eager…

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6:00pm …Much like a sea of buoys the carriage is dotted with bobbing heads, giving up to the rhythmic sway of the train. The dim glow of the setting sun spills in through the windows. Drooping eyes wander into a daze just to be jerked open by the violent jolt of the train. It has no mercy, not even for the laboured construction workers or melancholy businessmen trying to catch a wink. Indifferent to this morning they do not wear emotionless expressions, but a lazy smile teases their lips. For in the near future they will have resigned to their caves ready to fall into their subconsciousness... …I sign out for the night as usual and find myself alone in an eerie Waterloo station envying the train passengers. They have companions to share their memories, to consult in times of trouble. Me? I’m just the ticket master. You don’t notice me… you don’t see me. I’m the nameless person who punches holes in small slips of paper and retains order on the train for a living. But, I see you. I see your annoying phone calls, your menacing glares, your hurried efforts to make it on time. I see you.

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Love. Is There Such A Thing?

Mina Hwang “No!” I cried with a desperation I didn’t recognize, with tears raining down my dirt-splattered cheeks, staining them. I dropped lifelessly to the cool, moist ground like the dead falling leaves of autumn; unmoving, with the fresh scent of grass filling my nose. Each breath was uneven and rugged. I had never felt more desperate for one more. One more piece of him…

I longed for his presence, his delicate, tranquil features, his silly mischievous grin that didn’t match his statue-like face and his calm yet dazzling, electric blue eyes that shocked me every time, giving me a sudden wave of electricity coursing through me. I longed for his touch, my kiss, and our love. But he’s gone. Forever. ******************************************** “Hi.” As I fluttered my eyes open, I looked up to witness the most beautiful, god-like, perfect human with intense dark blue eyes that gazed at me with such curiosity and interest that I received a sudden jolt of electricity as if he were a wake-up call. I rubbed my eyes constantly but the image before me was real. How? And why? Why me? I’m not attractive in any way and I certainly don’t deserve to be with this god-like, inhuman creature.

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“Could I borrow a pencil?”

Of course, I thought, why else would he come to a girl like me? As all fairy tales begin, it started out as a classmate-friendly relationship but I somehow managed to squeeze next to him during class without it being such a big deal (thankfully) and we slowly became friends as we shared many interests and were actually in a lot of classes together (to my pleasure). We helped each other out a lot…especially in math! We became really good friends for a few years and then it became a little something more…

“Go out with me, Summer?”

That was the happiest moment of my life and he did everything he could have ever done for me and everything I expected out of a boyfriend. Even though he did the most simple things for me such as giving me roses on our movie nights, opening the doors for me and kissing me goodbye on the cheek, it made my heart flutter like a butterfly and I forget to breath when he kisses me goodbye. He loved me. That was all I ever needed.

“Happy Birthday.”

On my birthdays, he would reserve the school’s art room and he would make a vase with me that was a different design every time that symbolized love forever. He laced his smooth, delicate fingers with mine and guided my hands when making the vase. On my 16th birthday, oh my sweet, sweet 16th birthday, he kissed me. I was flying.

But

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I Was Wrong. ****************** “Hi.”

She’s the one that I want. She looks like a person I could prey on…

She’s soft on the inside and fiery on the outside, hmm, that’s my perfect treat. She’s the one for me… but alas! All girls are for me.

“Could I borrow a pencil?”

Works every single time without fail. She already stares at me with her jaw down with a slight look of disappointment. She’s already mine.

“Go out with me, Summer?”

Love, is there such thing? Stupid girl, poor girl, she thinks I love her, ha! She’s already trapped in my web. How childish. I don’t love - I steal!

I steal the hearts of young “desperate-for-love” girls. That’s my secret to my ageless beauty and my handsome features while they age and their beautiful features die. My poor little girl, don’t you know this is a trap?

Once I take your heart and your surrender to me is complete, you will no longer love. Forever.

“Fall?”

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…

“He’s gone.”

I stare at him, giving him a puzzled, questioning look and he glares at me with such iciness and bitter evil I thought it was someone else behind those eyes.

“Why are you like this?”

Unveiling his true form, he has molded into his dark side - Winter.

“Oh honey, sweetie, you and I were never meant to be. You think I actually loved you? How childish.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Why am I like this? Why am I like this? Let me get this straight, I never loved you, I only meant to capture your heart and never give it back in order to get younger, more handsome and attract other girls like you who helplessly fall into my trap. Your heart is…used to be… delicate, fragile yet your outlook was fierce and confident but that girl now no longer lives. I took your heart and your will to love so that I could live forever and get the love I want.”

Why are you like this?

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“We’re done, Summer or might I say, Spring, the poor and weak Spring.”

“No!” I cried with a desperation I didn’t recognize with tears raining down my dirt-splattered cheeks, staining them. I dropped lifelessly to the cool, moist ground like the dead falling leaves of autumn, unmoving, with the fresh scent of grass filling my nose. Each breath was uneven and rugged. I had never felt more desperate for one more. One more piece of him…

Author’s Note Spring, the season that represents the long-gone Summer, still lingers for Winter.

This is the reason why Spring is cold at times. She can be a cold season like Winter because she has trouble transitioning from Winter to another person she could love… which is no one because she cannot erase Winter completely out of her life.

At times, Spring is warm which symbolizes the few traits of Summer she still has that were not shattered by Winter but are very weak.

Summer, the season that belongs to the fierce sun, is the representation of Spring breaking the spell of Winter, turning into Summer once again.

Fall is the disguise of Winter and makes Summer fall in love with him yet again with his soothing, calm words that make Summer believe that he is truly the person he isn’t.

Winter, a cruel and bitter season, is the season where a disguise is no longer used after he captures her heart.

And so the cycle goes on…

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The Defenders Arit Sharma “COVER!” But it was too late.

The world had given way to a bright, blinding white as white as lightning. I wanted to shut my eyelids to block it out, but they were already closed. My ears were ringing, and I so desperately wanted to put my hands to block the sound resembling a super-fast ringing bell, but I didn’t. The pain went away, albeit too slowly and gradually.

With my vision and hearing both working, I raised my rifle, and heard the awful boom of automatic gunfire.

I thought my time on Earth, alive, had finished; but this wasn’t my time.

I lined up my rifle’s sight with the hostile to my left, and held the trigger for three rapid shots. Despite the small caliber, he was knocked back. By the time he registered that he had been hit, probably fatally, I had already done the same to his friend. Blue blood, with a hint of red was smeared on the wall, and blood had started to pool around the corpses. The air smelled of blood and the room was silent. Too silent...

I then looked at my team. My friends James and Dylan were physically fine.

Sergeant Daniels was not.

He had five puncture marks on his body armor, but the Season’s Defenders were given the best equipment there was, so why was he on the ground?

I looked up to his head, and there was the reason. One lucky shot had gotten through his helmet.

Silently I walked up to him, looking at the hole in his head. I closed his eyes, steadied by the fact that it would’ve been an instant death.

“Incoming!” James yelled.

I looked out the window of the one-story house we were in and cursed. It wasn’t another flashbang, or even a grenade… What came made them small in comparison: it was a missile...

The house wouldn’t hold!

“GET OUT!” I yelled, while jumping through one of the two windows.

As soon as I was about to land on the grassy garden, the house exploded.

I was thrown right over the 6-foot iron grating 10 feet away and landed on the pavement - hard. I had landed on my back, and my armor kept my bones intact, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

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My rifle was still with me, thanks to my strap; but as I flipped on my stomach and tried to lift it, my arms gave way. So, with as much speed as my body could muster, I took my pistol out of my holster.

Thankfully, everything was clear, not a single one of them was in sight. Then again, I couldn’t see any of my teammates either… Fear started to overcome me with the realization that I was alone - alone in enemy territory.

I lay there, not bothering to check my watch for how long, with my pistol ready and hopelessness overcoming me. It was then I realized how cold it was; now that they were trying to steal our sun.

Then, I got a small glimpse of hope, and it was in the form of a voice on my radio.

“All units, this is General John Watts, Operation First Offensive is declared as a failure, all units get back to the beach and standby for evac.”

My hopes were dropped as quickly as they came up. If we failed this operation, all of humanity would be doomed... I couldn’t let it happen without at least trying to stop it. There were probably two reasons why the operation failed. The first would be that the aliens were attacking somewhere else, and the second option… was that the main assaulting battalion was wiped out.

Despite not knowing if my reply would be heard, I spoke:“Sir, this is PFC Luke Blue.” I paused as I identified my surroundings. “I am in the middle of the residential street” The aliens, instead of having rows and rows of residential streets, had decided to have one large street. I had to gulp down my nervousness and fear before asking my question. “Requesting directions to -” “Just move downslope of your position, the helicopters are leaving in five minutes.”

Five minutes to run a kilometer. I couldn’t do it in this state. Fear finally took over me.

“Sir, I can’t make that time.”

He responded without hesitating, “I’ll send out personnel to meet you halfway through, dustoff is now in 15 minutes.”

Every part of my brain screamed at me to get off my stomach and start running towards the evac site; but my heart wouldn’t have any of it. Humanity outweighed one life.

“Sir... I am requesting directions towards the Hostile HQ” He seemed taken aback, but still answered quickly.

“Are you sure?”

It took me far longer than he did to respond. Despite the huge consequences of not doing it, would it really be that easy to throw away your life? I had to be resolute in my answer. If I regretted going into combat, my chances of getting myself killed were even higher and if I wasn’t sure evacuating, I wouldn’t be able to withstand the mockery from my teammates. If I wasn’t made fun of, what would it do to morale? Luke, the stone cold soldier himself, couldn’t sacrifice himself, so why should I?

Even so, I would still have my life… but would I be living? Could I live with knowing that I could’ve prevented Humanity’s fall? Could I live with knowing that I doomed everyone?

KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

25

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Yes sir, I am”

I heard talking, and had to wait for a full agonizingly long minute, that did nothing good to my nerves, for a response.

“Stay where you are, I’m dropping a fireteam to your position. They’ll know the way.”

A minute later, a helicopter hovered over me, and four people fast-roped to my now-standing form.

All of them had the face of a hardened veteran, but then again, nearly everyone in the Sun’s Defenders did. I took a quick look at their bodies, all of them were lean, and didn’t seem too exhausted. I refrained from looking at the only woman’s body, as it may have been seen as inappropriate.

Then, General John’s voice came on my radio.

“Humanity’s fate rests on your shoulders. Good luck, and know that no matter what happens today; all of you are already heroes to me. If anyone of you wants to back down, do so now.”

After a moment I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I looked at our predicament.

What did I have to fight for? I was an orphan without family.

A repressed memory from when I was a teen broke out of its walls.

“Mommy! Mommy!” called a young child.

The child was well off, his polo shirt and khaki pants were nearly shining.

“What is it?”

If anyone was unsure of the family’s rich background with the looks of the boy, the mother ironed them out. The woman’s voice was calm, as if time moved with her approval.

“Look at that boy mommy! He’s bleeding! We need to help him!”

I had just been robbed. I had worked at my orphanage, cleaning the floor, and had decided to go outside and buy a pack of trading cards, everyone else had them, so why not? But Police didn’t patrol dark alleyways in dangerous neighbourhoods, and I had missed the last police patrol by half an hour, the next would’ve been in three hours. Night time! Nobody travelled in night time. Finally, my body and heart were relieved that somebody in this world cared about me, and would help me.

I was wrong.

“Son, he’s an orphan. He has nothing to live for, why spend anything on a person with no value? We’ll be doing him a favour.”

After this, the woman moved away from my bleeding body resting on the alley’s wall, and only after she left did I see her bodyguards following her.

While nearly everything she said was true, I didn’t want to die. I managed to stumble and crawl the 200 meters to the orphanage. Over there, everyone - even the adults, Mr and Mrs Buzz - made fun of me for getting beaten up, but the adults were legally obliged to help me: they were my guardians. I got a small patch job, and I was lucky none of the wounds were very serious.

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26

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

The memory left me emotionally weak, and another memory broke through…

“Hello Luke” I stayed silent, I was in an absurdly small metallic conference room, and I didn’t like feeling closed in.

All I could smell was metal, all I could see was metal and all I could feel was metal. Sweat started to drop quickly, despite the cold temperature and metal.

“Not someone for pleasantries, are you?”

Was the man actually taking pleasure in my nervousness and fear? That was wrong on so many levels…

After nobody spoke for a while, I couldn’t tell for how long, as they had taken off my watch, and there were no clocks in the room. Not only would it stop me from choking the man with my watch, it would isolate me. Normally I wouldn’t get so worked up, but when all my senses could register was either the man or the metal; I was getting worked up. Come to think of it, the room was abnormally silent, soundproof, perhaps?

But the silence was shattered. Apparently, his pen had fallen down - definitely not on purpose.

I nearly jumped out of my seat, and that could only imply one thing: I was on edge… and he knew it.

Again, I was given the silent treatment; and in full. I never knew it could be so effective.

But this time, the break was short.

“Well… congratulations, I think. You’ve passed most of the test.” He announced this is an infuriatingly calm manner. How could he give me that much trouble, and then just casually wave it off? And what about this being a test, what was it meant to find out?

“Ok… You’ve passed the biggest part of joining Special Operations.”

“Don’t I get a choice?”

“No” “What…”

For the first time in the day, he showed real emotion.

“Listen to me… You’ve passed our tests with flying standards; I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do so well on the physical testing…” He paused, and to this date, I don’t know why. “I don’t think it’s because of your physical prowess, but because of your will.”

I didn’t want to interrupt him, for it may spark an angry burst.

“Humanity needs that… we’re losing the war, and if we lose, everyone human, and possibly other sentient species will get wiped out; for sure.”

I paused. This was crazy. Just a few moments ago, I was angry and squirming with discomfort. Now, he had successfully persuaded me to join. But he didn’t know that.

“So… What do I have to do?”

I never saw anybody smile as big as he did, and nor did I see anyone smile vanish as fast as his did.

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27

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“The average Homo Nalis has a weaker body than we humans do, however, their technologies are better developed, and there are more of them than there are of us. While we look similar, the key difference is that they have a different blood color: blue.”

He paused before saying something else. Something that changed everything.

“By law, I am required to tell you this, before you join. The casualty rate for Special Ops is 85%.”

Apparently, he saw the panic on my face.

“Now, listen to me! You have nothing to live for you have nobody to miss you when you die! And when you have a chance to actually do something course-changing, you’re turning it down for fear of your life!”

The memory was vivid, like it had happened just yesterday. But, after I looked at the team, I couldn’t, and wouldn’t back down.

We were all tired, confused and hurt; but we held determination.

We were going to save humanity… and may God have mercy on the souls who tried to stop us!

KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

28

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

Flown Away Daniel Hahm As I drift closer to the house, I spot the place I’ve been searching for. The Window has never moved positions in my lifetime; it has always been there, right above the porch floor of the Anderson family’s home. Its smooth wooden edges awaits me, as sunlights gleams and warms up its surface.

I glide my microscopic body through the air, effortlessly sailing through the wind. A fly’s physique makes going airborne very effortless. The wings on my back carry me along the porch and finally onto the window. I recognize the familiar cracks along the wood as I crawl along the Window. It has not changed; not once in the past, as it never will in the future. The glass wall of the Window shines bright, reflecting the sunlight onto the wooden platform below it. The comfort of spring’s heat surrounds me, and I begin to peer into the other side of the Window.

The inner side of the Window shows a large spaced out area confined by four walls. Against one of the walls lies a large, flat box positioned in the center. The box emits light, continually flashing moving images. An infant boy sits frozen in front of the box, staring deeply into its flickering pictures. Behind the child, a long table stands in front of multiple leather couches.

“Damien, dinner is ready!” a voice shouts across from the hall.

“Yes, mother, I’m on my way.” The little boy gradually stands up, and saunters towards the doorway with his head still watching the box. As he steps near and finally reaches the end of the room, the boy stands still, catches a final glimpse, then turns his head and walks towards the kitchen.

A piercing screech erupts from behind me. I look behind and see a dark vehicle skid along the pavement. The car halts and the front door swings open. A man of about forty years of age unsteadily drags his feet out of the car and towards the house. As he struggles to climb the porch stairs, a fierce smell cloaks my senses. The odor reeks of a rotten, unpleasant stench. I look into his eyes and see a form of disorientation, a loss of sense. His stance rocks back and forth, and he pushes the door open. A moment later, the door slams shut with enough force to rattle the Window.

The man barks, “I... I’m... I AM HOME.” The woman who had called the toddler for his dinner appears at the room’s doorway. She takes a single glance at the man, and an instant later begins to sob.

“You’ve come home drunk again! What is wrong with you?” the woman screams at the man. She had carefully walked closer to the man as she spoke. The man glares furiously back at the woman, breathing heavily and with difficulty.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

He cries out enraged, “How... how DARE you speak to me like that?”

The man takes an unbalanced step forwards and swings his arm back to its fullest range. The backhand of his palm strikes the woman’s temple, knocking her to the ground. The man steps over her body and swings again. The woman crawls to the kitchen, and the man chases clumsily. I’m unable to see the man or the woman anymore after they had left the room across my Window.

Later throughout the night, cries emerge from the house.

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Time has passed since the “event”. The pleasant warmth of spring has evolved into a hot, sticky summer’s fire. The cool winds in the spring nights has disappeared, leaving only the summer day leftover heat floating within the humidity. I have flown to other places; discovering the neighborhood and its houses. The houses each have their own set of windows, but I find myself always drawn back to the Anderson Window. The Window is different from other houses’ windows - its even surface matched by thick, rich wood and a glass wall view of the interesting infant boy. A perfect shadow is created by the Window during the day, forming a cooled area during the day of the intense heat. The Window has no flaw, and is all that I need.

As I am lying on the Window now, I notice the boy watching the same box again. What possible entertainment a flashing screen can give to someone bemuses me. His continual energy and smile everyday surprises me, as though he is ignorant to how the man treats his family. But within the past few weeks, the amount of times of the man arriving at the house intoxicated has decreased. During the odd days when he is capable of walking normally, and without the foul smell clinging onto him, the man speaks to the woman and the toddler kindly. The man is possessed with two opposing personalities within him. One defines the man as a respectable, affectionate person, someone who greets people politely and gives out compliments. The other causes the inner Devil to reach out of the man. When the man emits the infamous smell, the man beats the woman and shouts break out from the house.

A vehicle rolls up the driveway of the Anderson home. The car stops, and the man steps out.

Surprisingly, the man briskly walks away from the car and up the porch steps in a normal fashion. When he is right next to me opening the door, I can only smell his morning’s cologne on his shirt. The man steps into the house and the door closes softly.

I see the woman step carefully into the hallway. She examines the man from head to toe, and a sigh of relief is released. The man removes his shoes at the doorway and walks towards the woman. He grabs both her hands and places it into his.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” the woman asks in confusion. Although she knows the man is not in his violent persona, she is still slightly afraid. But she looks up and sees his warm eyes looking back into hers.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“I’m done, Nicole. I’ve decided I’m done. No more drinking, not ever again. I know I’ve said this before, but this time I will follow through with it. I swear,” the man tells the woman. He pauses, and pulls the woman into a tight hug. “It’s over, Nicole.”

Stunned from the man’s words, the woman doesn’t speak. She only pulls harder into the hug. Tears slowly leak from the corner of the woman’s eyes, making their way down her face.

But for the first time in a long time, it isn’t a cry of pain.

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Everything I’ve thought before about the summer’s heat has now become a lie. As the winter’s chill broke throughout the area, I ache for any type of warmth. I remember the summer’s heat, but cannot feel it. The idea of complaining about the hotness now seems foolish, as the iciness of the winter will be surely enough to kill me. Summer and its humid days passed as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind a few insufficient months of autumn’s peace. Winter’s black hammer soon broke into the neighborhood, robbing the evenings of its last moments of sunshine.

Snow had begun settling itself onto people’s lawns and on top of their roofs. Green and red decorations have been set up on houses, as if to celebrate the cutting chill of winter. At night, small lights that are wrapped around miniature trees illuminate. The Anderson family themselves set up their own tree, and hung polished glass balls onto it. Much has changed since the summer, as the man committed to his new lifestyle. No more sounds erupt during night of furniture breaking open and cries from the woman and boy.

The man sincerely did change. The dreadful smell from the drunken version of the man is now a thing of the past. But during a mid autumn’s day, the man had almost broken his promise.

On that day, when the weather was cool; not freezing, and the leaves on trees were still alive but brown and shriveled, I had been sitting on the Window with the man a few feet away from me. He was sat on the porch steps, staring deeply into the glass bottle in his hand. I instantly knew that bottle had been the reason, the source to the family’s deepest problems. The man had sat with his head hung over his body, continually turning the bottle slowly with his hands. He started to twist the cap off, then gave a sharp cry, a shout that echoed within the neighborhood. The man suddenly threw bottle across the street, staring it down as its dark glass shattered into thousands of pieces against the road. The liquid within the bottle foamed and spread in a rough circle around the breaking point. He stood and walked abruptly back into the house. That had been the closest the man had been to drinking again.

I feel the rawness of the cold starting to break me apart. Winter is the season of a fly’s death, as I have lived my complete lifetime. I’ve spent most of my life wandering around the neighborhood and KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

observing the toddler boy. I’ve grown to become fond of him, as I realized the true innocence of his nature. No matter what the man had done, the boy found the place in his heart to greet the man with a smile the next morning. I hope the man stays with his promise, to take care of his family. My life had been dedicated to watch the events of the Anderson family, and how much they have developed. Or, how the man has been changed. I know my time is coming closer to its end, so I look through the Window. I’m aware of how much I’ll miss the Window, as I’ve created a deep bond with it throughout the year. My memories I’ve created on it will soon be dispersed.

Inside the house, the Anderson tree glimmers with its lights and flashing ornaments. The box is playing its moving pictures again. On the opposite side of the room the people sit on the leather couches. The woman sits closely next to the man, who is in the centre of the three people. The toddler boy sleeps soundly across the couch, with his head resting on the man’s lap. For once, the group is looks like a single unit, people bound together not just by blood but by love.

The Andersons look like a family.

KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

32

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

The Boy Paola Noriega

5:30 am - Spring I dream of that boy again. The one who runs around on the meadow.

Giggling, laughing, enjoying life...

This time, he runs to the village close by. The clear sky with cotton clouds looks so beautiful this time. The branches and leaves sway to the gentle breeze. Birds chirp, dogs bark, and the small but pleasant village bustles with people like a bee hive at its working peak. Today is full of life and joy.

The surrounding world resembles him.

The boy.

He runs to the market square where he finds a dog: small, dirty and reeking.! It looks lost, sad and lonely. It whimpers as people pass by. It looks like the small brownish grey mushroom that grows lonely in the spring at the edge of the boy’s farm. The boy can’t stand those huge glassy eyes. He goes to the pup and crouches down. It whimpers loudly. He strokes him gently and smiles...

That was a long time ago.

5:40 am – Summer

KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

33

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

The boy is older. He looks as cheerful as usual. The dog he saved years ago accompanies him. He is in the market this time. He sits close to a stall now watching people push past. The dog is next to him, sleeping soundly. He breathes in a big lungful of warm summer air.

A young girl catches his eye; she’s at the apple store in front of him. A hole in the rag-made roof of the apple store shines light on the stall. He watches how she takes one, but the owner catches her. The owner, furious, yells and threatens the youngster. People keep pushing and shoving past uninterested, like cattle at midday. The boy moves immediately and runs into the scene. He raises his arms to calm the owner and searches his pockets. He finds two golden coins and gives them away for the apple. The girl stares hungrily and confused at the boy and the apple, he urges her to take it and she does. The apple is big for her small hands, it’s like watching a bird trying to steal a loaf of bread. She runs over to an even smaller girl, to share...

That was the last act of good will that he would ever do...

5: 50 am – Autumn The boy is in his teenage years now. Smiling... but his posture and eyes betray him. He smiles for the one he loves. A simple farm girl, like him; with a similar age and the similar peaceful nature, except for the surge of enthusiasm like golden and crimson leaves rushing in autumn’s cool gale.

Nothing much can be said, for he is sitting in the place where they used to play. Chasing each other and running away as if there was no tomorrow, it seemed funny then. But running now KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

34

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

means running for your life, running for real, because if you don’t... there won’t be a tomorrow. The leaves drop, he screams, the earth suddenly lifts- A shockingly loud “BOOM” wakes him from his Daydream... Although his dreams were nightmares, and where he now lived didn’t seem like it had a daytime...

He stands in front of her... her huge fearful glassy eyes staring up at him, her hands tremble and her body shakes vigorously like the weak branches of a tree slowly losing life. She is sniffing, and mumbling nothing. She is terrorised of him and she doesn’t make an effort to hide it.

She looks like her... like her. The difference is... she wasn’t around anymore. One cold early autumn evening another girl, someone like the fearful one in front of him now, had planted death... it took the loving innocent girls’ soul away and so he could never see her again.

She sniffs again, and dares to look up at him. He frowns. It could have been her, if not, she could do the same to someone else. He thinks. So he takes the heavy firearm and doesn’t hesitate when he pulls the trigger...

6: 00 am - Winter The boy reflects an age much older than his own. His cheeks are hollow, and so is his heart... The joy of life has drained until it left the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

35

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

melancholy and empty carcass behind. His eyes are sunken. Black circles cover them. There is a menacing cold behind them: anger, regret, pain, horror, hate— I wake up. It’s too much to bear. I couldn’t stand his eyes and the truth behind them. The war turned the once light hearted boy into a cold blooded killer. He didn’t want any of that! He didn’t want to kill for no good reason. He didn’t want to fear every sunrise! He regrets so many things, he wishes he was dead, it wasn’t in his nature.

I know, because... that boy...

Is me!

KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

36

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

Him Brian Kim (Author’s note: A man has 5 hours left to live. Throughout the 5 hours, he experiences the 5 stages of grief - Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance).

1:00 PM - Severance Hospital roof

He sits on the bench, not realizing that not much time is left.

“I ain’t sick.”

The blue sky soars over him as the clouds crowd over the now covered sun. as the wind settles in, many other patients decide to get into the building. However, he and a friend are in the same position: him sitting, and the friend looking down on him.

“Yes you are, and you know that.”

“Yeah well five hours is still a lot of time.”

The friend has a pained look. His face emits a sorrowful aura as he clenches his right fist. He makes an emotionless expression and stays still.

“Is this how you want to end it?” “...End what?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT!”

The friend grabs him by the collar with his left hand, with is right hand continuing to clench.

His face has connotations of pain, anger and hate. He doesn’t flinch, and continues to show no emotion, as if he has gone through this many times.

The friend loosens up, and tears form in his eyes. He soon breaks down, tears pouring down like the rain. After from what seemed like an eternity, he finally speaks - “Do what you want.”

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

As the friend leaves, he makes a frowning expression at the friend, and then he looks at the time. His face goes darker.

“Tsk. I wasted half an hour.”

As the winds get stronger, he decided that he should soon leave the roof. But first, he decides that he should draw, since he does have a pencil and post-it notes from the friend. Originally it was for his last words, but he doesn’t seem to care. He draws a quick doodle of a sprouting flower, almost as if it was from spring.

“Huh, a Chrysanthemum, the flower of life.”

“...I ain’t sick.”

2:05 PM, Severance Hospital entrance.

He sulks around, mindlessly wondering why his life has to end like this. Wondering how doctors can tell a person that they’re dying, and how they can simply move on. It infuriates him, and he decides to sit by a nearby bench to calm down. As he sits, he sees others moving on with their lives; smiling, talking, living. Some would occasionally give a stare. As rain settles in, he feels more provoked.

“What are you looking at?” He would think.

This goes on for 10 minutes, and then his face turns toward a voice. In the midst of all the noises of the people, he sees a young girl, giving out flowers to the sick. Their eyes soon meet; at first the girl just stares, until she shows a big smile, and walks toward him.

When she gets closer, he sees that her arms are behind her back, obviously hiding one of those flowers. Her hand soon reveal, and she holds out a lily towards him, wet probably due to the rain.

“Get well soon!”

He gets annoyed

“Huh. A lily. Pretty ironic for a person who gives flowers for people to get better.”

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

Aggravated…

“Why even tell me to get better, there is no use. It was a mistake for you to come here.”

In the midst of all these thoughts, the girl puts the lily into the man’s hands. When he realizes, he snaps. He throws the lily to the ground, and steps on it. The girl is shocked, and soon breaks into tears. Some people take a look and soon a crowd forms, murmuring left and right.

“Wow that’s mean…”

“Pretty insensitive…”

Once again, he snaps.

“YOU DON’T KNOW MY PROBLEMS.”

Suddenly, a flash of a lightning. A silence is displayed throughout the crowd. From then, most people leave, while others shake their head. One after another, the crowd disperses, until one person is left. The little girl. Her tears - like the rain, pouring.

“...I’m sorry.”

Her voice is very quiet and delicate, similar to a butterfly. It brings peace to his mind, and he soon calms down. However, by the time that happened, the girl already left.

Her voice reminds him of a flower that felt just as delicate as the girl’s voice, so he takes out his post-it notes, and draws a grown delicate flower

“Looks like I drew a petunia, the flower of anger….”

As he feels guilty for all that’s happened, he realized that a storm is soon to come, so he hurries on inside.

3:03 PM, Severance Hospital lobby.

He sits down on a chair, tired. He wished he could undo all the events of today. He wishes that he could undo everything…..

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Why me…”

As he thinks, a man casually sits down next to him. He had a black fleece with baggy jeans. The man looks over at him. He looks back with a stern look, signifying that he has no intention to talk. The man doesn’t realize this, and mumbles a simple: “Hey.”

He feels annoyed, wondering if the man even noticed that he didn’t want to talk. However, he already decided to not be aggressive anymore with the time he has. His stern look loosens into more of a tired face, and he simply answers back:

“Hey.”

The man’s face brightens a bit, happy that he got a response. The man tells him:

“I can help you.”

When he heard that, he shoots up from his seat and he looks at the man, with surprise. The man just shows a simple smile and says,“Do you know what the secret is? I can’t fix you, but I do have this.”

The man zips down his fleece, reaches into the inner pocket of his fleece, and pulls out clear plastic case, inside containing 13 plastic cases of white powder, clear as snow. However, the man looked a bit nervous, even covering a part of it with the fleece.

“When you sniff this you’ll be out of this world. Take this, first one’s free.”

From then he made a very important realization - it’s drugs. Compelled by meeting a drug dealer, he is left shocked, not sure on what to do.

“Should I take the pack? I’m going to be dying anyway, maybe I should bargain my time on this experience. But what if I get caught? Who cares I’m dying! But what if children see me? Who cares I’m dying! What about my dignity? ...Who cares. I’m dying.”

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

His face loses all expressions as if he’s dazed. He slowly gives in; his hand - closer to the pack.

He is so close. He can almost touch the bag…

Until 3 police officers are seen in the corner of his eye, and he suddenly wakes up and quickly steps away from the man. Confused, the man looks behind and is shocked to see them.

“Police! Down on the ground!”

The man tries to run, but a taser to the leg quickly ends the pursuit. All he hears is unintelligible shouting in every direction. Suddenly, everything becomes silent to him, when one officer taps his shoulder, and says, “Are you alright son?”

“...Yes.”

Soon a nurse quickly runs up to him, and says, “You must be shocked, please go calm down in your room.”

“What do you think I am, a child?”

He thinks that, but he doesn’t mean it. Soon, he takes the elevator to his room.

3:58 PM, Room 212

He sits on the bed, tired out from the experience. He looks at the table, which is filled with lilies. He’s too tired to become angry and instead he becomes depressed.

“Lilies….is this a joke?”

He grabs a nearby trash can and places it right next to the table. He then pushes all the flowers of the ledge, and they fall into the trash can. However, in the midst of doing so, the power suddenly goes out. He just continues to throw out the lilies, not minding the darkness. He soon sees a book, which he really doesn’t care about, and he leaves it on the table.

4:20 PM, Room 213

He is now clear as to why the power went out. He realizes that the storm has become dangerous, even to a point when he sees bicycles being blown away.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

He silently watches the bicycle being pushed around, almost as if it’s insignificant. For a while, he wonders if that’s how his life will end - being shoved past others in this storm that we call life, being a meaningless bicycle, gone where no one will care. This depressing thought puts tears into his eyes.

Soon his face is reflected on the glass - tears like raindrops pouring down. As he is in sorrow, he slowly realizes that he is a tragedy. He won’t be able to experience love or the true feeling of being alive anymore. More tears. His face; now almost like the storm that is on the outside as he further dissolves into despair.

4:50 PM, Room 213

As he weeps in sorrow, one huge thunderbolt strikes. Everything turns silent. No tears come out anymore. He is too scared to think about anything. As the silence continues, it is soon shattered by a book, falling from the table. He walks over to the book, and picks it up. It is book with no title, just white on the cover. It is also rather thin, only about 1 centimeter thick including the hardcover.

He opens the book, and is in surprise. Inside the book are quotes, all about hopes and dreams.

As he reads through, the tears soon dry, and the calmer he feels. At the last page, there is a sentence.

It is not a quote, but it fits in with the rest:

“Enjoy life until the end.”

His look of sorrow disappears, and shapes into a smile. When he turns around, a streak of light hits his face. Turns out, the storm has calmed down, and the hospital lights come on soon after.

“Maybe I should go to the roof.”

5:10 PM, Severance Hospital Roof

He sits on the same bench that he once sat with his friend. However, his attitude is now more positive, and the sun is now very bright and clear. As he thinks,, he realizes that what he’s been through was like Winter:

“It slowly comes in cold, to even colder, to the point that it overtakes us. However, after that, the sky soon clears, the snow melts, and we have a sun gleaming at us, kind of like right now.”

As he bathes in the heat, he decides to draw one more drawing. He gets out the post-it notes and starts drawing a stairway. It gets pretty long, so he adds another post-it on top.

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5:30 PM, Severance Hospital Roof

As he finishes, he slowly gets dizzy and has the urge to lie down. He sweats a lot, and the pencil feels much heavier. His legs feel non-existent and he is very tired. However he perseveres to finish.

5:40 PM, Severance Hospital Roof

Even though the dizziness slows him, he manages to finish. He drops his pencil, and lies down on the bench. His limbs stop moving, but his right arm has enough strength to place the drawing in front of him.

Soon, he breathes slower and slower, and it feels cold. But it’s okay, since it feels nice. Soon, he stops hearing the winds blowing through, and everything turns dim. He soon breathes with his mouth, since his nose suffocates him.

5:55 PM, Severance Hospital Roof

The last image he sees is his drawing of his stairs. Soon, he closes his eyes.

When he wakes up, he sees a real staircase, which leads to the sky.

As if he forgot to walk, he slowly takes one step at a time...

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The Vials Marley Seymour I can hear pounding footsteps, alerting me that they’re coming. I take off again after a minute of rest.

All I can think is the one word, repeating itself in my head: Faster. Faster. Faster…

******************************************** I awoke to the sound of the heart monitor beeping. In the background I could hear a quiet conversation. I was hooked up to tubes in the hospital quarters. My, rather large, cuts cleaned and dressed.

“Did you get it?” My father asked me, without giving me a second glance.

He looked regal in his new cape, with his broad shoulders and crisp looking hair. I didn’t even have to look at him to know he had the sly smile, he almost always wore, on his face and an almost crazy look in his bright blue eyes I had inherited. I blinked a few times, my eyes getting use to the sudden bright, white light and then I let my arm hang over the bed.

“Father, can’t you let a girl rest after a long mission that she nearly died from,” I replied playing with him.

I smiled bringing my arm back up and crossing it on top of my stomach because it had started to hurt.

“No, I cannot, I NEED that last vial! Do you have it?!” He nearly yelled, clearly angered by my playing around.

“Yes, I have it father,” I say. I reach into my shirt and pulled out the thin, silver chain with a small clasp in the middle. I unhook it, and hand him the little vial, attached like a charm, that I had stolen from The Winter kingdom. It contained an ice cold, deep, turquoise liquid. My father grasped it, a greedy look in his pair bright blue eyes, I already mentioned. He smiled and quickly left, brushing his cape behind him, nearly knocking his outrageously silly looking crown off his head and without even thanking me. I laughed, suddenly very drowsy, and gently drifted back into sleep…

When I woke again, I was greeted by a big hug from Jack. He was tall- but not too tall! Soft but still brave, extremely handsome and... mine. He had nice, soft brown hair and the best personality. I closed my eyes and embraced him back. We slowly let go and he sat next to my bed, in the ugly and worn out light pink chair used for visitors, gently stroking my hair and smiling. I smiled back at him.

We communicated through our eyes: my bright blue ones telling the story, and his brilliant, neon green ones taking it in, widening at the gory details. All the citizens of the four kingdoms, Summer, KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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Spring, Fall and Winter, named after the seasons, had powers. Mine was seeing the future and the ability to speak through my eyes or mind (basically telepathy). Jack’s was being able to put people in a trance or, you could say, mind control.

His beautiful eyes widened even larger when mine explained the part about the beast they’d sent after me. I added details out loud, or by movements and he took in my thriller story. After a while I fell back to sleep my body still weak from, what was practically, a suicide mission. I drifted off and dreamt… ******************************************** There are pounding footsteps, alerting me that they’re coming. A person takes off running. The persons thoughts are drifting away and all the person can think is the one word repeating in their mind: Faster. Faster. Faster… The person runs, occasionally glancing backwards.

Swirls of color. Mixing colors. The world is in devastation. Someone is being stabbed, but who... ******************************************** I sit up quickly, cold with sweat, my t-shirt clinging to me. The room is empty with no one but Jack, who had stayed to comfort me.

“Tori, what’s wrong?” He asked, sounding concerned.

“You have to promise you won’t ever repeat what I’m about to say,” I said looking into his enchanting eyes.

“Tori, I promise. What’s going on?” He said giving me a funny look.

“I had a bad dream, and now, I might be crazy but… I think I know what my father needs the vials for,” I say.

He went stricken and looked at me, then he clutched my hand, “Tori, come here, it’ll be okay it was just a dream calm down and go back to sleep. I promise I’ll protect you.”

I fell into his strong, buff arms. We stayed in a nice hug for a while, but he seemed distracted. I turned around and looked at him. He looked at me and laughed tensely. I fell back to sleep in the uncomfortable hospital bed.

What did my father want with pieces of the other seasons? I had just retrieved the 3rd and final vial for my father, each full of a piece of the season’s magic. I couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted them...

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I paced my room, thinking about who that girl was. I had been let out of the hospital quarters last night. Finally after a long session of nothing but thinking, I stopped pacing and pulled on my underskirts and dress. I went to breakfast and ate being careful to look for anything that could possibly be a murder weapon and bought as much time as I could before leaving the table and trying to pass time.

I decided to go to my favorite corner far back in the gardens hidden by the public eye and my parents.

Jack and I spent most of our days here basking under the sun or too distracted with other things to care. It was beautiful and wonderful. I heard voices. I slowly and quietly crept towards the bushes. I peered around the corner of the hedges and saw my father talking to someone. I gasped when I saw who it was. I put a hand over my mouth and quickly turned back around.

“Who’s there?” asked the other person. After a minute I heard them start talking again, I let out a deep, shaky breath.

“She knows too much, she knows your plans and she knows you're planning on hurting someone,” I heard the guy say.

“How do you know this?” My father asked.

“She confided in me, told me herself, we must kill her sooner than expected,” He says.

I didn’t hear the rest, but I didn’t need to. Tears silently slid down my face as I ran away. I ate in my room that night and fell asleep, uncomfortable, awaiting my doom.

I was awoken by my maids. Their tear stained faces telling me today was supposed to be my last day. They slowly pulled out a regal looking royal blue dress that had a gold jewel pattern on top of royal blue netting that formed a shirt like top and a beautiful flowing bottom. It was meant to be my most beautiful dress, and I have to admit it was.

It was tradition to die in the colors blue and gold for royalty and summer. I quietly put it on as my maids used shaky hands to pull up my hair. I slipped on my heels and left. We slowly trotted towards the dining hall. Jack was passing by and he grabbed my arm pulling me into the shadows. I pulled away and slapped him.

“What was that for?!” He exclaimed. I stared at him and slowly my anger dissolved into confusion. I grabbed his hands and gently brushed his face. His eyes bringing me into a trance.

“I’m so sorry,” I pleaded, because I felt like that was what I was supposed to do. He grabbed my hands and pulled me into a deep embrace, I relaxed into the smell of his suit. I felt him move in a strange way. My head started to hurt as I went into a vision.

Someone being stabbed.

I remembered what he had done, talking to my father about killing me.

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I quickly tried to grab his hand but the knife’s tip had already gone 1 centimeter into my lower stomach. I cried out in pain as he drove the knife home. I could feel my own warm blood running down my stomach and there was a repulsive taste in my throat.

I kicked Jack, causing him to pull the knife, 5 centimeters deep into my stomach, out. Then I grabbed it and directed it towards him bringing it into his upper thigh. He screamed and clutched his leg. The knife remained stuck in his thigh. I watched him grab it and saw his face contort in pain. I gasped and ran as fast as I could pressing my hands to my wound, crying out in pain. I tripped and got back up. I ran until the door. I unlocked it with the passcode I had worked out and grabbed each of the vials.

I ran out into the gardens. I tripped and my dress ripped. It, and I, became dirty as I made my way to the forest. I cried in pain as I fell. I stood and started to run again. As I near the spring border, I scream to alert people but I fall once again screaming. I don’t get back up as I crawl towards the spring border...

I hear pounding footsteps alerting me they’re coming. I take off again after a minute of rest. All I can think is: Faster. Faster. Faster...

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True Love Graca Kiboi “Willing to make sacrifices and compromises for someone else. That’s true love.”

I first met him in English class. We both sat at the back of the class. I would always look at him from the corner of my eye, watching his every move. His hair...each thread falling perfectly weaving together into curls, his nose...straight and aquiline, his lips...perfectly formed and parted slightly. He looked up and I got a glance of his gorgeous brown eyes framed by his tangled black lashes. He was perfection to my eyes. I looked down quickly hoping he didn’t notice me staring at him.

I caught her staring at me in English class. Her thick short hair with jet-black curls fell onto her face like a curtain of silk. Her lips were like a frozen rose - dangerous but beautiful. Her teeth were evenly distributed and as white as any newly fallen snow. Her dark brown eyes effortlessly mesmerized me. They were, without doubt, the most captivating aspect of her appearance. She was beautiful in every way.

And that’s how Jake Winter’s and Summer Hayes’s epic love story started. They did everything together and told each other everything. They were inseparable. Jake started giving Summer a ride to school every morning and a ride back home every evening. Wednesday’s was their special day. They met at the “Le Petite Francè” at 7:00pm every Wednesday. They fell hopelessly in love, but Summer’s parents did not approve of their love. Jake had dropped out of school to pursue his dreams of being a writer, but Summer’s parents thought that Jake would be a bad influence on Summer. They weren’t allowed to see each other anymore but they didn’t let that stop them. They both ran away on Jake’s motorbike.

He was speeding up. I told him to slow down but he asked me “Do you love me Summer Hayes?”

I replied, “Yes”.

He asked again, “Do you love me Summer Hayes?”

I replied, “of course I do” And then he asked, “ Summer Hayes, do you love me, Jake Winters?”

“Jake Winters, every time I see you, I fall in love all over again. You complete me. I do Jake Winters, I do love you. Now will you slow down, you’re scaring me”, I replied to him.

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“Okay, but first take my helmet and give me a hug…”

“Do you promise to slow down then” “Yes I do” That’s all I remember from then on...

We we’re almost at top speed. She told me to slow down. I asked her 3 times if she loved me and she replied yes. I then asked her to give me a hug. She did. I hope she forgives me...

That’s how Jake Winters and Summer Hayes epic love story ended. The motorbike had crashed into a building. Jake had realized that the brakes weren’t working but didn’t want to let Summer know. Instead, he asked her if she loved him so that he could hear her say it one last time. He then asked her to put on his helmet so that she would have a chance of surviving, which she did.

Jake Winters sacrificed his life for Summer Hayes.

Every Wednesday night, Summer goes to the “Le Petite Francè” restaurant every Wednesday night at 7:00pm. She has never been a minute late. Now that’s true love.

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The Strange Old Man… Alexander Kim In the middle of winter, there was an old man sitting on the road: cold, shriveled and stiff.

Unable to move. Unable to work. In fact, he was unable to do anything at all other than drink water. He was dying. The air was chilled and all of the man's hair had fallen off his head leaving a bald brown scalp. On his body there were many holes and crevices. His skin was a dark maroon and was hard and stiff and unable to be bent. He was stuck with his arms out to his side in a 180 degree angle. There was something odd about this man or perhaps he wasn’t even a man for he had lived for 260 years…

Weeks passed by and the strange being ever so slowly started shriveling up. Then finally after 260 years, the old soul said goodbye to the world and died but as he died the being opened his hand and released something ever so small. Ever so fragile. He had released a capsule that held the power of life. He had released a part of his soul. It flew in the wind and finally landed. The capsule hit the fertile soil and burrowed into it next to all of the rest of his kind where they stood firmly around the small capsule. Then the seed waited and waited until a full year had passed and spring approached. Then the “soul” timidly sprouted out of the soil and out came a body just a body with no limbs. Then as time passed, the boy grew arms and fingers and started to grow taller every year until he was double the size of a normal man. As the being grew, he went unnoticed by anyone who passed, ignored by everyone except for small creatures that came as an army and tickled his entire body.

As time passed, the man’s skin got darker and darker until it was a dark brown and his skin was flaky and stiff. It was getting harder and harder to move unlike the days where he swayed in the slight summer breeze under the dazzling sun. At the same time it was getting difficult for the being to breathe as chemicals filled the air produced by vehicles that moved so fast they came and went in a blur. Then around him his elders slowly fell, chopped down by these motorized blades that killed his family in seconds and dragged their bodies away. Soon the man was the only one left standing alone the rest of his kin dead.

The man was lonely - so lonely, in fact, he dreamt of the day the men came back with their blades and decapitated his lone frail body to take the valued resources from inside him. Sadly that day never came and the man thought, “Why everyone else except me? Why leave just one after slaughtering everyone else? “ Then the man realised they were pushed to the limit. Without him the humans would die - for he was the last tree...

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Lucida the Doll Sue Kim There is this doll that I adore deeply…

I first met her in a package box that was delivered to my door by an anonymous sender.

Curiously, I opened the box and found an elegant Victorian doll. I looked for a note and it was written in a blood red (possibly leaking) pen: Dear Autumn, Take good care of her.

She can lose her temper...especially when she is dirty.

She is a very unique doll.

Good luck...

-Anonymous I brush the chocolate-brown wavy curls in her hair to make them as soft as silk. The curls rest smoothly on her shoulders with such delicacy. Placed lightly on top of her head, was a pink fluffy bonnet hat. This antique Victorian doll wore a matching light pink dress with some pearls and lace on it. The doll’s curious brown eyes were staring at me...

“You are so lucky that you don’t have to experience the monster of a society I live in,” I sighed.

I have to admit that I am not very social so the only friend I have is this doll.

Lucida.

The reason I am most fond of this doll is because it is very unique. Lucida is holding up 6 fingers-3 on each hand and rocking them side to side. I was going to school with my doll to show her off to everybody. Proudly, I walked towards my classmates but accidently tripped on this rock-I fell onto my knees and hands. In slow motion the doll tumbled out of my hands and into a pile of mud. Everybody started to laugh and point their fingers at me. My knees and hands were KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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scraped and drops of blood were dripping down my knee. I turned bright red and picked up Lucida and I ran home without looking back once. As soon as I got into the house, I put Lucida on my nightstand and closed my eyes…

Autumn...Why did you get me dirty? How dare you. You are such a clumsy girl. You have crossed the line. Didn’t the letter that came with me specifically state that I cannot get dirty?

I woke up in a puddle of sweat with my doll on top of my mouth as if she was choking me. I started to panic and threw the doll onto the floor and I ran to my dad who was on the rocking chair outside. He was abnormally still with a small puddle of blood next to his left foot. I was calling my dad’s name but there was no reply. My dad was dead.

That was when I noticed that the doll was there. Lucida-on the balcony holding a bloody knife.

Smiling at me. Her fingers changed.

She was holding up 7 fingers-3 on one hand and 4 in the other rocking them side to side.

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Pillars of Summer Sion Kim Tony pressed the keys “1…2…3…4…” forcefully after remembering the humiliation of mistyping his password. The woman behind the counter smiled as she held out a fresh receipt and his debit card. He set down his tray in the window seats of Starbucks and stared into the 8 lane traffic. Tony looked down at his Bacon and Cheese sandwiches, thinking of the devastating shift he must get back to in ten minutes. He was in a depressing mood after his boss of ‘The Titan of Fire’ nearly sacked him for coming late to work. As he dug into his sandwich, something happened. The silver tray which was ever so blinding him had faded away. The reflection from the glass of water dimmed. The shadow grew large and stretched into an alien shape. Everyone turned towards the TV… “This is Karen reporting from CNN news live! We have a report of a riot at the Apple store. We will hand you over to John, our correspondent” “Thank you Karen. They seem to be chanting the phrase ‘The world will be over soon.’ What do you think about this Mike?”

“Haha! Well, as an Astrology Professor, this is extremely hilarious…

Suddenly, the screen dimmed and Tony could only make out a shaky cam. The TV report stopped abruptly and was replaced with a picture of America's National Symbol with a stock ticker displaying “US EMBASSY HAS DECLARED NATIONAL EMERGENCY.” Tony was perplexed… people were streaming out from shops into the streets. People in cars looked up at the sky with horrified expressions as if The Angels of God appeared. A nearby cop shouted in a megaphone, “PLEASE REMAIN CALM, STAY IN YOUR VEHICLES OR RETURN TO YOUR RESIDENCES. STAY AWAY FROM WINDOWS AND DOORS.” Multiple police sirens were heard as ambulances sped past and John immediately dropped his sandwich and burst open the glass sliding door with his hands. Then, he saw it himself; the sun was only the size of a pinball and the sky was almost pitch black.

He stared up at the Empire State Building just like everyone else did as New York stood still as an eerie darkness advanced over the buildings and an uneven cold breeze swept past the statues of people. The howling wind was the only sound that dared to be heard while newspapers and scraps of leaves twirled fiercely like a tornado. Suddenly, he could see the small specs of dust falling from the tip of the Empire state building. Realization dawned on him that this was not dust, but it was glass. Starting from the highest point of the building, the ice slid down the buildings like an ink spill. It covered and shattered every window it past. Sounds of moaning steel and crumbling concrete echoed through the street; the sudden temperature change made the steel very weak. Tony started to run as an enormous advertisement board toppled down. People were abandoning the cars in traffic, sprinting away from the incoming ice. Quickly, Tony adjusted his eyes on a distant American Flag which was before streaming and waving its colours but was now frozen still.

4 years later...

The day was nearing to the end and for the first time in years, the sun shone. However, it didn't stop the merciless cold. Even though it shone, it seemed distant and unreal, almost like a hologram. This is how everyone felt ever since the MIA (Modern Ice Age) The sun had burnt the gas which kept it warm KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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and now it is expected for it to stay cold forever until the sun dies (which will be billions of years into the future). After the MIA, human civilization went deep underground and a new form of architecture arose. However, the days turned bitter and the Earth will begin to get colder and colder and colder until we stop it.

The double banner was waving out the blank logo of “Titan of Fire”: a man stretching towards a light.

The Mayor of New York stepped out patiently as everyone saluted and waited for him to reach the speech table. Officers and lieutenants wore black suits and a shiny black cap and stood ever so still, with shoulders like square boxes. The sun was setting in the distance of the clouds which made it glow a delicate shade of pink. Finally, the Mayor stood over the speech table and read out: We celebrate our 2500th anniversary of human existence in such cold, hunger and depression. I ask why… Our strength is a luminous sun towards which all intelligence blossoms and the impervious shelter beneath which it has prospered. We, as humans survive. However, we sink down in despair. To overcome this event of horrors, we commissioned a “Titan of Fire” warship which will carry the preserved sun to Earth.

The glass panels hissed over me leaving the space of a coffin. The plastic plexiglass shivered as the ship “Titan of Fire” rumbled in pain. My vision blurred the flashing alarms into a mesh of colours like christmas decorations. A small blue hologram appeared in front of me. I focused on the pixels and traced it with my hands. I couldn't think straight. I needed to go into hypersleep immediately but what activated it? What was the button called? Start, proceed, begin? I had no idea.

A sudden boom vibrated from the deepest corners of the ship. It travelled across with a deafening scream bursting open pipes and valves; slicing the levels like a layered fudge cake. I looked up and saw the flashing button ‘ACTIVATE’. No more dreams or hallucinations will ever stop me from pressing that button. I gathered all my strength to lift my lead arms, a searing pain tore through my muscles but no, I couldn't stop. I HAD to activate it, my teeth were clenched with such force to hear the grinding of my incisors. A trickle of sweat dribbled down my forehead into my eyes. I closed my eyes and prayed my arms were long enough to reach the hologram. At last, I felt the cold surface of the glass and thumped my lifeless body back.

The plastic plexiglass shivered as the ship rumbled in pain. My breath stained the window, frosting my view ahead of me. How long was i asleep for? I lurched my head back as the cold simmering liquid seeped through my feet making its way upwards covering my legs. My body’s adrenaline kicked in to try and stop the water, my arms and legs were shaking violently. However, i was strapped in, nothing could stop it. Soon, only a thin layer of air was remaining from the increasing blue water. I could only smell the strong odorous disinfectant. It was my last breath until it overlapped my nose. Wave after wave it tickled and toyed around with my nose like a psychopath enjoying my death, soon it completely covered me with the metallic taste. My head was spinning and my arms stretched to its limit, my ears were screaming, my mouth tried to open to find the only oxygen which wasn't there!

This was the only way to save Earth, This was the only way to get to Earth…

Hypersleep.

The horizon of the white urban city scape was beautiful. A magic carpet plodded on the volatile buildings making round circular shapes like a soft toy. It had been such a long time since we were legitimately out of our vaults. They showed us holograms and movies about our history but it felt like a KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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dream, a past of something which I vaguely remember. I looked behind me and thousands of dimmed faces were staring into the sky, we were on a small white hill waiting for the ship to return. The wind was more fresh than the air conditioners deep underground but the wind stung and was surprisingly violent. It blew, causing a whistling pitch to echo through the empty and abandoned streets. It left everyone to spasm from the cold.

Then, we heard it. A deep rumble caused the delicate sandcastles to shudder and a deafening hoarse scream erupted from the sky creating clouds that twirled violently. I held my ears and looked down as specks of snow vibrated up and down in a simultaneous action. A bright explosion shone through the whole sky and illuminated the clouds like thunder. The ship was drifting down at nose level at an incredible speed. Its giant hull which was bigger than conjoint ocean liners was ripped and damaged.

The white imprinted words of “TITAN OF FIRE” were faded and the whole rear end of the ship was missing. Electric charges flashed in the crevices and holes of the torn ship and bits of debris fell down leaving a trail of black smoke. Finally, the inevitable happened; the nose was squished when it crashed on the soft snow sending creases of steel through the entire ship. After a few seconds, a huge explosion occurred, bigger than the atomic bomb we saw in the War of Resources. Everyone screamed as several steel parts flew towards us.

My eyes settled on a distant light; a warm and glowing source. My mind raced to figure this information out. This couldn't be space, it must be earth! My eyes flashed open and found several dangling pieces of steel hanging from the ceiling…well, what I thought was the ceiling. Cables and wires were dazzling from the overcharge of the energy source. The plexiglass which had encased me was sparkled over the floor, glittering like diamonds. The disinfectant water had spilled over making an utter mess. I stood up with agony from my leg and peered down the floor which had been prised open, leaving bars like a rib cage of an animal. Several feet down below, I could see my crew. What was left of them…

Slowly, I limped towards the emergency exit - the ventilation shaft. I reached my hands and pushed my fragile body upwards. As I crawled through to the other side, the steel had bent dramatically and it displayed a mirror with a face which I hadn't seen for years. The eyes were filled with such melancholy and grief that it seemed fake but priceless. The cold snapped me back to sense. I had arrived at the control bridge. The wide glass displayed earth and pine trees filled the valleys while huge distant clouds hovered over the structures of mountains. Knowing that I wouldn't return, I put out my trembling hands and set out a timer. I slammed my fist down into the button. Immediately, the ship lurched forwards and headed for the sun itself. I could only see the light which became brighter every second.

The entire human race had only one word in mind:

Summer!

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Death of the Four Seasons Annabelle Park August 6th - The start

Nobody will notice me... nobody will be smart enough! Nobody will notice me... nobody will be smart enough!

My pulse followed along like a drumbeat.

This was my plan all along... but you will never know me!

Even if it’s my own creation, and my own plan it’s terrifying. It was just terribly easy - killing I mean… ******************* 4 people - dead.

4 Seasons - dead.

Kristen Spring, Leo Summer, Liam Fall, Elsa Winters...

Spring was killed by a baseball bat, a popular sport in the Spring.

Summer was killed by heat, gagged and drugged. His own power was his destruction.

Fall was killed by suffocation. He died choking on the leaves he himself had sent down to die.

Winter was killed by arms of fire...

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

August 7th, 2006 - Interview with Jolie Officer: Please state your name and age.

Jolie: Jolie Devon. Seventeen years old.

Officer: We will need your fingerprint. Please press your index finger onto this surface. ******************* Fingers are pressed, close to the trigger. Lips are trembling. Merciless, merciless.

You have to be merciless.

“Nope, I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I’ve never held a gun before…”

“C’mon girl! I paid this much money for your lessons but you turn it down this way? No way!” He tries to convince me with his persuasive grin that I love too much.

“No… Sorry but this isn’t right Zac.” “So that means you are going to live defenceless right? No walls to protect you. At all.”

“I already have a lot.”

I then kissed him on the cheek, for the last time in his and my life.

That’s when I left the room thinking I had done the right thing. I regret it… If I had enough lessons then I could’ve gotten my license and a gun of my own, and I could’ve actually used it in my defense. I could’ve used it on the people who hurt me after he left. I should’ve taken the chance when I had it, and when I had him in this world…

And then after he left... the bullying started.

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I tried everything! From talking, to hiding, to even trying to kill myself… But it just became worse. So they left me no choice, but to use something I am an expert in...

I may not be able to talk well, but I know everything about drugs.

Let’s see how they like it when everyone laughs at their weird behaviour for a change. ******************* Officer: Jolie, we know that you’ve been having a tough time with these four people. But why did you have to kill them? Wasn’t harassing them and poisoning them with drugs enough?

Jolie: What? I have never done that! I have no idea what drugs you are talking about!

Officer: Don’t play dumb with us Ms. Jolie, we’ve found traces of LSD in your locker and bag. We’ve also interviewed some people and found out that these five people have been hallucinating and they have had the same symptoms… How can it not be a coincidence that they died one week later? You set it up Ms. Jolie Devon. You tried to poison them, but it didn’t work. So you decided to kill them.

A tear starts trickling down Jolie’s cheek.

Jolie: No! I didn’t kill them! I just...I just tried to throw them off their game and hurt them. It was never my intention to kill them! I didn’t want to poison them; all I wanted was for them to stay away from school and leave me alone. For all these years I’ve been bullied, harassed, abused and humiliated; in front of everyone! By them! Is it not okay to take a bit of revenge? I don’t feel sorry that they died.

But I didn’t kill them.

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******************* August 7th, 2006 - Interview with Xylie Officer: Please state your name and age.

Xylie: Xylie Monvil. Seventeen years.

Officer: Please press your finger onto this pad, we have to get your fingerHe is silent. Sudden surprise crosses his face.

Xylie: What? What is it?

The words of betrayal are carved into his piercing blue eyes.

Officer: We already have your fingerprint. You’re…that girl. The X-Girl. ******************* “Wooh! Go X! Go!” I hear people calling behind my back, cheering me on… It’s now my 2nd time in the Olympics. Both times, all gold 100m - Gold.

200m - Gold.

400m - Gold.

I am a mutant. Unbelievably fast for my age, I’m just turning sixteen today. As I see the red line, I race ahead. I just love the feeling when your lungs start burning, your legs ache and you feel that adrenaline pumping. It feels like I could start flying at any second!

Screams surround me as I raise the Gold medal for the 5,000m run.

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A few days after the ceremony an unexpected visitor comes to my house. The man declares that I had a certain drug called EPO in my blood. They said that this drug increases your blood production , so you can run harder and longer. Apparently an unusual amount was found in my blood.

As I said, I am a mutant. This is my power. I naturally have thick blood - I never took EPO! But because I am different, they accuse me of something I didn’t do.

Oh, America still fearing what it doesn’t know… I never took the drug. I was being punished for something I had no control over, something I was born with...

After that, I was banned from all games and I had no more sponsors… My career as an athlete quickly faded away.

I was forgotten. My medals and victories collected dust… ******************* Officer:Tell us what you know.

Xylie: Nothing. I know nothing about this. I only know that four people died and that they died like the four seasons. I know that these people bullied me and Jolie. Jolie and I have been best friends ever since kindergarten; we like the same things, we talk the same, we do everything together! Sometimes, we even finish each other’s sentences.

It’s pretty cool. The only thing different about us, is that people know that I have a public history and she doesn’t.

Officer: Okay.Then how do you explain the gun?

Xylie: What gun?

Officer: Your fingerprint have been found on the gun that was used to shoot Elsa Winters.

Xylie: Are you accusing me right now? I did not shoot that girl! Even if I KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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absolutely hated her, I didn’t kill her! Even if I tried to do it, don’t you think I would’ve worn gloves? I’m not that stupid you know…

Officer: Then, how do you explain this? You can’t just say that you didn’t do it when we have evidence Ms. Xylie!

Xylie: Well, that’s not true evidence! I could have been framed, or something like that… Uh… I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t have done anything like that! I am innocent! I did not touch that gun!

The expression in his eyes changes to pity and understanding… but only for a second. A cold look sweeps over his face...

Officer: You’ve lied once to the world. How can we trust you now? ******************* Hours after the interviews, I hear my name shouted across the hall. Coming to a stop I hear Xylie’s voice call.

“How was the interview Jolie?” I turn around to see my “toy”.

“Oh, it was just fine… They found out about the drug thing. Thanks for not telling anyone about it.”

“Oh, no prob! I’ve got to act like a best friend to be one. And we are besties!”

“Yeah…”

As Xylie and I head back to my house for a sleepover, I play the part as I had planned. Patiently, I wait for her to fall asleep just like how predators wait as their prey is attracted; then it bounces in…

She is asleep. Time to get started.

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“I’m so sorry Xylie. But you only have what I need. I don’t go for people that I like, I go for people that have what I need…”

Our fingerprint is our only difference.

We act the same, we buy the same clothes, we like the same things. All I need is the fingerprint.

Gently, I press her finger onto the trigger of the gun. Luckily there is nothing in the chamber. I repeat this process with all the equipment that I had used to kill the people. The baseball bat, the rope, the gun.

As guilt washes over me for a moment. I whisper into her ear once more, “I am sorry…”

Not.

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The Four Seasons Alice Lee

All things are resuscitated——The Spring As the winter scenes disappeared, the spring came unannounced.

The weather became warmer. The sun was shining and the ice and snow melted into the water. They were flowing down and meeting the streams, the rivers and the seas. The grass had grown, breaking the ground; trees pulled out their branches; and leaves waved in the gentle breeze. Everything seemed energetic.

“Tweet, tweet!”

Who was singing? The birds! They were flying here and they built their nests. They flew in the sky and sang on the branches. Beautiful cyprinoids were playing together. They hid behind the pebbles and then drilled in the gap deftly. All the children came out to play. They flew kites and ran on the grass. Children’s laughter spread to distant places and flushed the birds out the grass when they ran away there … …

Filled with a joyful mood, my family and I went downstairs and flew kites in the courtyard together. The bright yellow kites were flying with the breeze .A wisp of sunshine pass through the kite and illuminated my face which was full of smiles. My younger sister and I ran around the clear lake with the flying kites, letting the breeze blow our hair …

The pale-pink peach flowers lined and crowded on the branches, as the wind blew, weaving into a pretty pink scarf for nature. I squatted and pick up an integral flower. All the petals were tangible, but the stamen stood up straightly.

I put this pale-pink peach flower between the two pages of my book like a bookmark, hoping to keep this wonderful fragrance forever.

Warm from head to feet——The Summer The bright moonlight decorated the summer sky. The sky at night was a boundless transparent sea. It was quiet, vast and mysterious. The stars, like a small spark, rippled in the sea…twinkling! Beating as tiny points of light. Fields, villages, forests, were in a quiet sleep, dressed up with a silver tulle. Hills were vague, like a cloud, like a small island on the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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sea, always shining with bright red flames. Breezes blew which gave us precious coolness only at night.

During the daytime, summer restored the land to the real features.

The burning sun, like a big fire ball, grilled the land. The earth was just like a steamer. The small animals are hiding in their nests. Trees and flowers lowered their head but the grass can’t so it bends beneath, lying on the land. All the people don’t want to go outside; its too hot for anyone. People like to sitting around the TV and eat watermelon together, the children all playing under the eaves and having their icecream.

I took a picture of the shining sun, and put it between two pages of my book…

In a hurry——Autumn Autumn, bumper harvest autumn, bounces across the field and all the fields immediately turn into gold. People are busy harvesting grain.

Flowers have withered, the trees are reluctant to take off the bright summer suit, and then put on the golden autumn suit.

Small animals are also busy collecting food, preparing for winter hibernation. The leaves turn into a kind of gold colour, just like the golden butterflies, falling down, falling to the ground like flying. Gradually the earth is covered with a silk blanket with a golden colour. The autumn brings people happiness.

I pick up a piece of golden leaf, leaving it in my book to keep the wonderful colour.

The quiet and white season——Winter When the old man of winter’s footsteps stepped into the winter time, the world would be pure, glistening and snow covered with snow flying in the sky. The moment has the world dressed in pink makeup. The whole earth looks as if it is covered with a soft wool blankets and cold shiny silver, like walking into a fairy tale kingdom. People cannot help but think of the little match girl but happy children are sitting on the ice car as it slides to the side. There is laughter with snowflakes flying around the sky.

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Why Didn’t You Tell Me? Yeob Kim “Ting-ting” Messages are coming here and there. Dylan was looking out the window, watching the heated paved street while the doctor was talking to him. Leaving the hospital, he did not seem to be bothered by the people bumping into him and the summer heat. Everyone was moving but him. Then he slowly walked into a coffee shop, standing before the counter. He ordered coffee and sat down looking over the photos in his phone… the photos of his parents. After half an hour, he walked out the coffee shop.

That evening, several doctors walked in and ordered coffee. One of them was the one talking to Dylan.

They all sat down, looking exhausted. The doctor mentioned Dylan and how his parents died. Hearing the sound of shattering glass, everyone was silent. The doctors continued talking amongst themselves.

Dylan must be smothered. He must be in need of company. Dylan had not been seen as summer faded away. As the school started, the trees got coloured. He never appeared at school, hospital and the coffee shop, where I worked.

I had had a blog where I composed classical music and wrote lyrics. Everything in this blog had concerned only the 4 seasons of the year. There was no love and hatred. But then the music and lyrics started relating to death and losing one’s loved ones. I was certainly thinking of Dylan. As the fall began, the number of viewers increased gradually and it became a viral blog. There was one last comment from the fan with an ID name DnC, saying “Chloe, reading your lyrics and listening to your music on 4 seasons of a year, I have experienced many more years that I can no longer have. So I thank you for your gift and now I could close my box. It looks empty, yet it is filled with love that I had for you. No one would be able to open it since I am taking it with me.” “DnC” (the user) had supported my blog and music.

The first snow being seen, I was afraid I would never see Dylan again. As I was looking at the snow outside, I took out my notepad and started writing ideas for my next music. Then, the doctors walked in ordering the same coffee. As they sat at their table, I heard them saying “Dylan’s gone now.” I slowly walked over to the table and stood there gazing. They saw my tear and asked me if I was close to Dylan. I nodded but still couldn’t say a word. They told me how his parents had died and about his terminal illness. After hearing all, the ID “DnC” came across to me. The last comment that he left. I realized that it was Dylan.

This will be my first and last time mentioning love in my lyrics. I am going back to my music concerning the 4 seasons of the year since that is how Dylan remembers me. Dylan, I will fill your box with more seasons of the year…

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Nightmare Elina Lee Step, by step.

What was this feeling? He’d never felt like this in his short sixteen year lifetime.

“Fear.”

A voice whispered. It was so clear - just like his sisters…

“No!” came a reply. Screaming in return, he sealed his ears and quickened his pace down the unknown hallway.

“It’s fear.” That voice repeated. He shook it away.

Soon, his legs were stepping rapidly. His head frantically swung from left to right; eyes scanning for shelter. Then his razor eyes stopped.

Creek.

The door slid open as he cautiously stepped in.

Dumbfounded, he stared into the room. Inside, there were lifeless, hazel surfaces with despairing legs.

They were rusted. Rusted legs?

He hadn’t seen them before.

Then his eyes started focusing on another object. It seemed silver-like at first, reflecting the moonlight. However, as he got closer, the hazel surfaces appeared.

Puzzled, he spun around. They were there, in the place that they were; untouched. His short neck swirled around to the reflection again.

Him. Why could he see himself?

Reaching out, his pale skinned hands stroked the reflection. Then he touched his cheek with his bony and fragile hands.

“Is this… me?” His voice was deep, yet weak.

“Yes,” came a reply, “this is you, Fuyu.”

It was that voice - again! Slightly irritated, he turned around to strike whatever was behind him.

Nothing.

“I’m Aki.” The voice appeared on his left side. She had long, chocolate hair that reached up to her waist. Her eyes were the brightest shade of brown - comfortable to look at.

Why was it, that he was so comfortable around her?

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“H-How do you know my name?” He snapped out of any unnecessary thoughts. There was no reply.

“How do you know me?” Fuyu repeated, his tone getting impatient. No reply - again. Fuyu shifted around uncomfortably.

“Answer me!” His voice tone altered. He was now panicking. Her aura was completely gone, he could feel it. Silently, he took a microscopic step. Looking around, he found a little mattress poking out in one of the drawers. He rolled it open and pulled the heavy sack of fluff on to the floor. With a heavy breath, Fuyu crumpled on top of the mattress and dozed off in an eyeblink.

It seemed like a second, when the brightness of the sun forced Fuyu awake. He hurried to place the mattress back inside the drawer just in case anybody saw him. Doubtful.

Laughs, chatters, voices. Fuyu beamed. People! He merrily skipped down the halls to find three girls giggling.

“Hey!” He started, waving his hand, then letting it out further for a handshake, “I’m Fuyu.”

A response was not heard. He was replied by ignorance. The three girls didn’t stop talking and continued to walk. It was as if he wasn’t visible. Slightly vexed, Fuyu swiveled around and shouted.

“HEY!” How rude of them! He ran forward to grab the blonde’s shoulder, who was standing in the middle of the three. However, he didn’t get a tight grip of a shoulder, but a tumble to the ground. Fuyu didn’t react. Staring at his hands in disbelief, this time he attempted to grasp the girl’s covered legs. By the time he opened his eyes, Fuyu was grabbing his shin. His head drooped on to his knees, and started weeping silently. Why did he go straight through things? Had he been too unimportant that even God himself had forgotten about him? Was this his punishment?

“Fuyu, Fuyu!” A voice called from above. Blinking hastily, he reached up and felt a soft surface.

Smiling softly, he looked to see what he touched. Someone’s arm. Thank god! He bolted up from where he lay and hugged the one he could hold. A girl. She laughed, hugging him back. It felt good to be hugged.

“Did you have a bad dream?” She asked, in her ever so tender voice, wiping Fuyu’s unnoticed tears.

Of course! He’d realised! Aki! Aki was his mother.

He sniffed.

“I- I’m crying because I’m happy.” He acknowledged, “So happy to be noticeable.”

“Fuyu, Fuyu!”

A familiar voice; who could it be? Fuyu blinked. His mother was still there and tears were where they were before. A millisecond later, she was gone. His only hope, his mom, had turned into untouchable dust.

“Fear.”

It was that voice! Why was she back?

“Wait, but that voice, Aki - was my mom!” His head frantically moved, again.

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“No!” He was only repeating what he’d dreamt of at the beginning, and he knew. However, even so, Fuyu couldn’t resist the emotion he had felt. He didn’t want to remember“It’s fear.”

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Vision Monica Nam My back struck the cold wall. I felt the ridges dig into my skin as I frantically pedaled my feet against the ground to get away.

To get away from it.

The zombie’s clothes were tattered and ripped, barely hanging on to its mangled frame.

Fresh blood was splattered over older, congealed blood that had fused with the plaid fabric of its dirty shirt. Sickly pale skin, discoloured with bruises, showed through the ripped holes on its pants. On its lower left leg was a deep gash -probably made by a knife. Shredded skin still hung from the wound, turning white as its cells started to die. Beneath the layers of internal fat drenched in red fluid from burst blood vessels, bones -grey and rough- peeked through.

It shuffled closer, and its hollow groan forced its way into my ears. Panic struck my heart in a frightening blow. My breath quickened as I realized that I had nowhere to escape to. With another moan, it took another step, closing the gap between us. I smelled the rotting flesh, saw the maggots burrowing into the wounds and the flies feasting on the milky, blank eyes. The skin below its cheekbones have caved in, leaving two gaping holes instead of cheeks. The edge of its lips desperately clung onto the lower jaw, helping the neck support the lifeless mandibles, but left its mouth wide open. Through the three holes, I saw the crooked, yellow teeth and the tongue riddled with holes from wriggling worms. Its hair had fallen in clumps, leaving random tufts on its head. Bot fly larvae, fat and white, were poking their slimy heads out of the holes they had chewed through its scalp.

I shrieked as I looked to my left -metal wall!

I looked to my right -metal wall!

The walls on all three sides were too slippery to climb. I pressed harder behind me, desperate to delay the inevitable. The zombie lurched forwards, and I kicked with all my might, screaming as the shock raced up my leg. The impact of my foot on its face caused its lips to tear.

With nothing connecting the upper and lower jaw, it swung open and thudded against its chest.

The maw of the horrifying abomination was swollen and purple as the worms from its tongue had burrowed into the flesh, worming their way through the blood vessels inside and cutting off the circulation.

The zombie lunged.

Its upper teeth pierced my neck. I felt them slicing my nerves, each one sending a new wave of excruciating pain washing over my body. Putrid saliva from its mouth ran down my neck and drenched my clothes. I vaguely heard a high-pitched wail, and realized that it was my own. Deep within my throat, it scooped down and dug out a fatal chunk. I gasped and twitched KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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uncontrollably, but remained conscious. Only a faltering, thin stream of air was able to flow through my damaged windpipe and into my feeble lungs. My neck started to go numb, but by now, the zombie had bitten my stomach, arm, and thigh. Each twitch was like driving a thick, burning nail through all of my bloody wounds. I squeezed my eyes in pain, and tears joined the mix of fluids staining my flimsy shirt.

The zombie, having feasted on my body long enough, lost interest and limped away, joining a group of other zombies hobbling down the street that adjoined with the narrow alley I was trapped in. I was alone, thick blood gushing from my wounds, with my body spasming from time to time and slowly going numb all over…

I moaned. Hungry… so, so hungry. I hobbled along with my new friends. We spotted a creature that wasn’t one of us. Hungry… so so hungry. We started limping towards the delicioussmelling human. Hungry… so so hungry. We were united, joined with a common, animalistic cause -to feast and fill our stomach with the fresh meat of our prey. Our only goal was to feed.

The woman spotted us and started scrambling away in the opposite direction. No! We smelled the tantalizing blood and flesh. It was the only thing that mattered. We were overtaken by the primal urge, and were going to stop at nothing to nourish our hollow bodies.

A new smell suddenly joined in. I turned my limping body towards the equally alluring scent. A man. He was in an alley, his back pressed against the wall as if he was trying to merge with the bricks. Just like... Something tried to push its way through my mind for a fleeting moment, then disappeared without a trace.

I broke away from my group and started to hobble towards the man. He visibly panicked, backpedalling with great effort away from me, as if doing that would make him invisible. Just like... I entered the alley, officially trapping him. His smell washed over me, intoxicating my brain.

I lunged -straight for his throat.

Just like...

THE FOUR SEASONS NEWS AGENCY: Demented Daughter Kills Her Father in a Psychotic Episode Davis Miller, age 47, was tragically murdered on August 4 -in his own home. He was a loving husband and the father of an only child. According to the police station near Miller's home (location will not be revealed due to reasons concerning privacy), a middle-aged woman had called at about 8:45pm, babbling incoherently and hysterically.

The call was traced back to the Miller residence, and a police crew was dispatched. When they burst into the door, a horrifying scene was laid out before their very eyes.

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Darcy Millers, Davis Millers’ wife and the woman who had called the police, was on the ground, clutching a telephone and sobbing while going into shock. Millers himself was at the end of a corridor, brutally murdered by his 14 year old daughter -June.

June had been depicted in medicals news worldwide when it was confirmed 4 years ago that she is presently the only victim of a new mental illness -a cross between the worst case of delusional disorder and schizophrenia.

Delusional Disorder -according to WebMD.com- is a type of serious mental illness called 'psychosis' in which a person cannot tell what is real from what is imagined. The main feature of this disorder are delusions, which are beliefs of something false. For instance, a person with delusional disorder might think that they are being followed, poisoned, deceived, conspired against, or loved from a distance. These often result from a misinterpretation of experiences. However, the situations are not true or highly exaggerated. A symptom of delusional disorder are hallucinations. They can be seeing, hearing, smelling, or feeling things that aren't really there. For example, a person believing that he or she has a stinky breath might smell a bad odour.

This illness (much worse for June), combined with the horrors of schizophrenia, have resulted in June experiencing “mental seizures,” as her mother called them. Ms. Millers -with the prompting of professional psychologists employed by our agency- described these attacks.

“They lasted anywhere from 40 seconds to 40 minutes,” she said, “When having them, she was completely unaware of anything However, it seemed as if the things around her helped shape her hallucinations.”

Ms. Millers have also exclusively retold what happened on the day of the murder. “The day Davis died, June's seizures were unusually violent. She kept screaming and twitching on the ground... Suddenly, she got up and started walking towards us. At first, we thought it was over, but then we noticed that her eyes were blank -she wasn't really seeing us. She started moaning and snarling, as if she was actually going to hurt us. I got frightened and backed away, and June turned towards Davis. She cornered him in our corridor, and, and...”

Ms. Millers refused to speak after this, but photo evidences were able to convey just how Mr. Millers was killed. June had -horrifyingly- ripped out a chunk of flesh from his neck with her teeth.

She is presently at court, and judges are still trying to determine who is guilty. Is it June herself? Her mental illness? Her parents, who had a legal fight two years ago, trying to prevent the government from taking full custody of June? Or the hospital responsible of checking up on June 4 times every day? Whoever it is, the whole world seems to be shaken by this tragic murder.

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You or Me Kinga Gross The doctor put his hand on her arm and said gently, “You or the baby will survive. Not both. I’m sorry.”

“Wait! What did you just say…?”

“I’m sorry Mr.Clarkson, you must make your decision” “I can see a successful future for my daughter” “I think it’s a better decision as well?

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Summer Clarkson.

The name that my parents wrongly named me…me! The ugly 14 year old girl.

Am I allowed to be called summer?

Or am I insulting the beautiful season?

I once was beautiful.

I was 8 years old when my father told me that my mom died for me in summer on my birthday.

It all happened when I was 13 years old. I was the Summer I wish I could be now.

Shadows were lying on the street like they had been flattened and glued on the concrete. It was quiet: no cars were passing, no children were playing - except me. I did what I always did; daydreaming. The lonely street next to the forest was my place, my area. My everything!

Then everything crashed - on the same day.

I knew something was wrong when Teo asked me to show him my secret “place”.

He usually trusted me in what I was doing, but this time I could hear the worry and suspicion in his voice.

I didn’t worry about the incident with Teo all day, but when I arrived home and nobody was there, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering…

When I arrived at the “place” it was already dark and way past dinner time, but who do I have left to tell me that? For a few minutes I just stood there…A scream!

A scream… A scream… A scream.

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As the voice kept screaming, I was absolutely terrified. I couldn’t control myself and I needed someone to protect me, but no one was there. What should I do? Is it time for me to die already? Or is this a dream?

“Teo! Where are you? Do you hear me? TEO!!!!!!!!”

“I’m here…”

I just wanted to cry. It was so dark that I forgot where the entrance was.

I listened to the fading echo of Teo’s suspicious voice. I still didn’t realise why he came with me?

While I was searching for Teo, I kicked something, small...hard…

A flashlight!

Relieved to find a source of light, I stumbled further. With light on it was much easier for me to locate where I was. I felt something wet on my finger- probably just sweat- after I dried my hand with my white shirt a blood stain appeared. What? Am I bleeding? No,it wasn’t me… It was the person who owned this flashlight before me. There! A name-tag… Teo Spring, I squinted again and again, no that couldn’t be Teo’s name I just read. The blood could not belong to Teo… “Teo! Teo! Are you okay?”

Okay...okay...okay, the echo of my own scared voice was scaring me in the darkness. Normally, I am not the type of girl who gets frightened easily. Suddenly, everything went dark and I became peaceful.

I never woke up again, until NOW. I didn’t even know how much time passed by since the last time I went to the forest.

“Where am I? I’ve never been here before?”

I was lying on an operating room and a doctor with dark glasses stared at me like he wanted to kill me.

I turned my head to the right and I saw a woman that just looked like me. I started to realize that it was my mother…

The doctor started coming towards me with an injecting needle. I heard a scream from the woman next to me. Suddenly, I saw nothing and I felt peaceful.

The doctor put his hand on her arm and said gently, “You or the baby will survive. Not both. I’m sorry...”

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Broken Hearted Insoo Kang All my hopes and dreams are gone like they were buried in dunes of sand. My love has now gone hundreds and thousands of miles from where I stand. Our relationship ends as swiftly as an Indian arrow. I thought I would be with her forever and she would become the love of my life.

However, that has now all ceased to exist.

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It all started 3 months before I graduated from high school. It was the end of my biology class when I stepped out of the building into the cold winter breeze. I was walking home until I bumped into someone.

I went up to her and started helping her pick up her books. “I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there.” As I picked up one of her books, I saw that it was about the flowers that grow in spring.

“You like flowers?”

“I love flowers.”

“I’m Scott by the way, Scott Summers, what’s your name?”

She answered, “Patricia, Patricia Pattons.”

I handed her the last book, she smiled at me and walked away. From that moment, I got a crazy, mind twisting notion that I had a crush on her.

For the past few days, we got in touch with each other. I chat to her on Skype, ate lunch together and shared funny stories until one day I asked her the craziest questions in the world.

“Will you go out with me?”

At first I felt really embarrassed that I asked her this question, but then Patricia said, “Ok, I’ll meet you here tomorrow night”.

I then felt so relieved because the procedure of asking someone out would collapse like a deck of cards if she said no, but it all ran along smoothly.

The day finally came where I would go out with Patricia. We went to a nearby restaurant and ate dinner and took a walk in the park. The winter breeze blew gently onto our faces as our footsteps crunched down the white snow. We sat together next to each while she leaned against me and said “What do think of me as your girlfriend?”

I answered “You’re the most beautiful, talented, smartest person I have ever met, you are the most perfect girl in the world.”

She blushed and I blushed back.

Patricia stood up and looked me in the eye. I could see her ocean blue eyes glimmer in the light.

We got closer and closer until her lips touched mine. As we let go, we open our eyes and look each other in the eye again. We stand up and I walk her home. I said good bye and I walk my way home. In bed, I couldn’t sleep because all I can depict in my head is her ocean blue eyes.

Next morning, I went to class with Patricia and sat next to each other for biology class. That day we spent a lot of time together in every period. At the end of school, I went to her house to work on our biology project together. We were working on our project until we both fell asleep on Patricia's couch.

For the next few weeks, we sometimes met each other often after school and spent a lot of time together. Spring came to place and we celebrated her 17th birthday. I got red roses for Patricia on KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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the day. Spring break came and Patricia and I went to Hawaii together where the climate was very different from home. We went to the beach together, swam and relaxed at the resort we were staying in. It was a fun and tranquil experience because it was a time where we could ease off from our studies.

Our love was a strong, uncompromising bond that could withstand anything until something she said… something broke our profound love…

It was after school when we were walking home on our last week of school when Patricia said, “Scott, I have to tell you something.”

I answered, “What is it Patty? Is there something wrong?”

Patricia replied, “No, it’s just that I’m leaving New Jersey for a long time.”

After she said she was leaving, I felt like a part of me was gone with the wind.

I exclaimed, “Why are you leaving?” in a shocked tone.

Patricia said in a sorry tone, “My parents enrolled me in Oxford and I took the test to be admitted and I passed. I am leaving right away for England after the last day of school.”

The pain of what I just heard struck my heart like a lightning striking right through it, penetrating my body. For the last few days of school, I didn’t really meet her because she was getting ready to go to Oxford. On the last day, I followed her to the airport. Before she went through the door gate that lead to security, I grabbed her hands and said “Remember that”.

For the last time, we hugged each other and the doors closed like the bond that kept us together was now cut off.

All my hopes and dreams are gone like they are buried in dunes of sand. My love has now gone hundreds and thousands of miles from where I stand. Our relationship ends as swiftly as an Indian arrow. I thought I would settle down one day with her and she would become the love of my life. However, that has now all ceased to exist.

The Four Seasons Hotel Pia Jensen Only one night. One night and the mystery around the Four Season Hotel would be solved. Graham Alba, one of the most successful journalists in Britain, was about to start his new project (in other words his new column). Every month he publishes a newspaper article about mysteries around the world…. And this time his target was the Four Season Hotel.

While Graham Alba was driving his car, it started to rain and the already gray sky turned black. A Storm was arising. No wonder! It was the 25th of October.

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“Oh, please! This is too cliched: I’m about to a visit a haunted mansion and the weather goes crazy!”Graham murmured.

His mood was miserable. After he drove all the way up from London to Scotland, the journalist took a ferry to the Skye Island, which is located in the North. It took him two days to get there, but he was too ambitious to give up.

Finally he arrived. He drove around the corner and could already see the steepletop, which overtopped the crowns of the dark green pines and fir trees. A little forest surrounded the big old mansion. The Four Season Hotel was an imposing, three level high building battered by the rough weather. If you would look closely at the bricks of the walls, you could imagine that they were red a long time ago. As time went they turned grey and here and there you could see green spots of moss. The large, narrow windows were closed and so dirty that it was impossible that any sunlight could find its way inside the building. Above all: rain was pouring down as though the ocean was falling down on earth and the wind was howling loudly. Clearly, this was the perfect haunted mansion and Graham Alba almost felt anticipation to discover all the mysteries of this hotel.

“All these rumours about this mansion will be solved today”, Graham thought, his emotions churning.

It all started on the 7 October 1970. On that day, a week after the hotel opened, the owners disappeared without leaving any hint where they left or any signs of a murder. The hotel closed and time went by… The mansion was weathered and almost forgotten. But one day a group of teenagers decided to have a big party at the Four Season Hotel, because it was the perfect place for a ‘spooky Halloween party’. On the next morning there was no sign of the teenagers; the only thing the police could find was the remains of the party. This happened two years ago. Nobody wanted to go near the mansion anymore and there were rumours that the four owners were still alive...

Graham opened his car door. He took his blue bag pack out of the cargo bay. Carefully and full of excitement, he walked towards the big wooden door. The noise of his hands knocking on wood were overheard by the thunder. The storm was there and it sounded like it will be a great one. Nobody responded... as expected.

The door squeaked as Graham opened it and behind it he could just see the old, heavy carpet on the floor. But as prepared as he was, Graham took his torch light out of his bag and switched it on. Now he could see a big foyer. There were candelabra hanging from the ceiling and the furniture was covered with white cloth. They was a lift in the corner. At the end in the middle of the hall there were stairs going up to the second floor just like the ones you know from Disney Castles…

Slowly, Graham walked towards it. First he wanted to discover the whole hotel. He was so excited that he started to shake.

The floorboards were creaking under his weight. What if somebody still lives here? What happened to the owners of this hotel or the teenagers? All these questions were running through his head…

As he arrived at the top of the stairs he was looking around him. Every door had a golden sign on it with three numbers on it. He walked towards the door with the number 101. The room was dark and like in the big foyer every furniture was covered with a white cloth. Nothing. No hint about anything was in this room! Graham went out of the room. Next room. Again nothing that could be mysterious or solve the mystery…

“What? This is the Four Season Hotel! There must be something strange here!”, Graham thought.

Suddenly he had a lightbulb- moment: here, in the normal Hotel rooms he would not find anything KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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abnormal. Graham was almost running down the big staircase, not realizing that a shadow was following him…

When he arrived at the little office he found behind the counter, he walked directly at the big desk, which was the only thing he saw that was not covered with a cloth. After he searched through all the drawers and found several unimportant documents. He was devastated. Nothing! Not a single hint about anything. The only object he found that could be a clue was a little key he found glued to the top of a drawer. Why would somebody hide a key at this location?

Suddenly he heard a crack. Silence. Graham’s heart stopped for a second. After a second Graham tried to calm himself down with the explanation that this is an old house and sudden cracks are a usual thing here. Looking around to find a hint, Graham detected a medium sized chest standing in a dark corner of the room. He sprinted towards it and tried to open it. Of course, it was locked. But he slipped his hand in his pocket and took out the tiny, golden key. With shaking hands he put it in the keyhole. It fitted! Slowly he turned it around. Click. What was hidden in this chest? Patiently, sampling the pleasure, he opened it with a loud creak.

The first thing he saw, were a lot of pieces of paper. His hands grabbed them almost automatically. On the first page the Word ‘Passport’ was written in big letters. You could see that a typewriter was used to write. Graham was reading through it very quickly. He could not stop. This was the clue. The explanation to everything!

Crash! The thunder made Graham nervous… He never liked storms.

By reading this document Graham found out that the four owners of the Four Season Hotel changed their family name “Crawford”, meaning they were all siblings, to “Spring”, “Summer”,” Fall”, and “Winter”. “These pages are like the life story of the four siblings…” Graham thought.

Tip, tip, tip… Graham winced, when he heard the noise of footsteps. The question “What if somebody still lives here?” was running through his head. “Maybe it was a rat. I mean, they are not unusual in old houses”, Graham tried to convince himself. But his heart was still pounding heavily. His eyes drifted back to the page, he wanted to start reading and widened as he read the heading…

Click. The journalist turned around. A gun was pointed directly at him. The arm, that was holding it, belonged to an old, grey-haired man with cold, gazing eyes. The quick-witted and silver-tongued Graham had no idea how he could get himself out of this situation. He clearly was in a shock. “What are you doing here, he?” the man asked in a strong, Russian accent. No word came out, when Graham opened his mouth to speak. “If you don’t answer, I will shoot you in the head!” the man continued in his roughly tone. Graham awakened out of his numbness. This man looks like he would really kill somebody. Is that the murderer?

“I...I...uhm. I was driving and then this big storm… uhm.” Graham spluttered.

“You’re coming with me! Now!” the man interrupted him.

As Graham stood up and followed the stranger as though he was sleepwalking, he panic-fuelled tried to figure a way to get out of here. The man was slightly walking behind Graham and was still pointing his gun at him.

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A few minutes later, the two arrived in a naked, little room, in the basement. The only thing in the room was a wooden chair, standing lonely in the middle of the room.

“Sit down!” the strange man commanded.

Graham knew he would be in great danger if he did not, so he sat down on the chair. “You know too much! So I have to kill you...”the man explained in his thick Russian accent. His heart was beating so fast and loud, Graham was afraid the man could hear it. But curious as he was Graham could not resist asking: “Why are you here? What do I know? And… what is the secret of this mansion?”

The man sighed. “Is that your last wish? To know what happened here? But you know every piece of knowledge has its price...” he talked slowly and almost exhausted.

“Yes!” Graham responded. The words ‘last wish’ and ‘price’ were spinning in his head…

“Okay”, he began, “it all started two years, before this hotel opened. The Crawford siblings, the owners of this hotel, went bankrupt, after their Company failed. Long story… Anyway, they were since they were teenagers involved in criminal businesses. They searched for someone rich, they could steal money from. Their choice fell on the Russian mafia. I don’t wanna go into detail, but their plan was pretty clever. So, they stole the money. It was 600,000 pounds cash. Of course, I wanted revenge on them, so I tried to figure out who they were and where they live.”

“Wait! Who are you?” Graham interrupted him. If looks could kill, Graham would be dead now.

“I am the great Vlad Ivazov!” he bellowed, “I was the great, great boss of the Russian Mafia!” He shook his head, before he continued: “Where was I? Oh yes, so I was searching and finally I found them!

Here in this hotel… The Four Seasons Hotel!” Now, everything makes sense: the documents of the passport change, and the page with the title ‘Plan for deprivation’. Well, almost everything. “I killed them at night.” he said without batting an eye, “But I could not find the money. And they did not want to tell me. Until I found the chest, the one you opened, I was searching through the whole house… I found nothing! Inside the chest there are documents about the location of the ‘treasure’. It is built under this building. From then I started to dig a tunnel under the mansion. I still have not found anything…”

“What about the teenagers?” Graham wanted to know, fascinated by the story.

“I had to kill them, because they found the tunnel. I think that’s everything. Do you still have a question?” the man asked in his roughly tone again.

28.10.2014

Daily Britain Times New victim of the Four Season Murderer Scotland, Island Skye- After the well- known journalist Graham Alba went missing, the Scottish police went off to the Four Season Hotel. The body was found at the door and a note was given with it. It said: ‘Leave me alone or you are next’...

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

The things that some people would go through just to tell a good story!

Dead Again Taewon Kwon “We are dead.

That’s what they think and that’s what we want them to think.

We don’t exist on this planet, and no one knows about us.

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This is better because, no one suspects the dead.

No one suspects the dead, and that’s why they can never catch us.

We are dead.

This is why, two years ago, we were working our normal job: Mark, John and I. It was much harder when we were alive. Always avoiding cameras, CCTVs, and other suspicious eyes. We had to do our job, and get as far as possible. There used to be three of us before the incident. John. He was caught, because of us. He died because of us. He lived because of us.

We are dead.

What is death anyway? Is it not just a way to get out of this horrible place? Is there anything more to death? Sometimes I think and consider what it would like to live. To die. To live, is to die and to die is to live. So why are we not dying? Well, our job is very very strict about us killing ourselves. Our job doesn’t let us live.

We are dead.

Maybe you think otherwise. Maybe you think life is worth living. Maybe, just maybe, you are right. If we can get out of this job. Maybe we can live. Living for real would be nice. Great actually. Settling in, having…”

The screen flickered off. I drew my Walther, Model PPK in 2.3 seconds with bewildered eyes and scanned the room. It was so dark, it took 3.6 seconds for my trained eyes to register the surroundings.

Everything was the same. The trap silk was still hung invisibly from the door to the sink. There was nothing wrong about the room. My glasses did not catch any thermal movement in the room. I held my breath and lowered my position for exactly 85 seconds. I swiftly got back up and looked at the monitor.

It was so good to see Ryan. He sounded exactly the same. Even though his face was disguised, I could tell from the one of the many voices he has. He was using his KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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Russian voice, which he uses often in Moscow. He must be in Poslannikov Street Side 18 bld 1 Moscow, Russia, 117186. I grinned. He must have been in a hurry, because he didn’t cover up his surroundings well. I could tell how a Golden Eagle .5 was on his belt. Maybe a silencer, but I couldn’t tell. If he has a 0.5, he must be have some tough objective. ‘Don’t think about it,’ I tell myself. But there was no way to not think about it. The way he talks, no one would notice but me. Even though his voice was smooth, I could tell that he was in a hurry. Why? I do not know. Even though I could not see Mark, I knew that he was in trouble. Also, the way he says our names… that was very unlike him. Our identities were never mentioned. Now that I think more about it, the weirder it seemed. We don’t call each other’s names, even though we think we are alone. Only in the safe-houses do we say each other’s names. I then had a horrible feeling.

It is not possible. We have been the best at keeping identities, and it couldn’t have been that it is now exposed. Wait. Ryan was the strictest one about identities. He would not say any of our real names, not in front of a camera. Unless…

A cold metal pressed onto my throat.

A harsh voice, faked for sure, croaked, “Move and you die.”

I have been in many situations like this, but this was different. His body covered me like a boulder, his hot breath was on my ear. He was in a position I have never felt before. It was like he knew my usual ways to counter this situation. But that’s impossible. Not to boast, but anyone who messed with me had been killed. A stream of panic drifted into my heart. I have to think. I have to think now.

My gun is on the table, about 30 cm away. If this guy is a trained one, like me, he will not hesitate to put that knife in my throat. I am just a tool that may be used or not.

So I ask him in a whisper, “Am I your target?” I know that I am not. But I say that because I need time to think. Also, I need to know how good he is. If he is well trained, he would not say anything. If he is new to this business, he would answer.

But, if he’s very experienced, he will just kill me. I counted 4.5 seconds, when someone said, “Hi.” My legs buckled under me. Not because of what he says, it’s because of his voice.

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It was Ryan’s real voice. He repeated, “Hi John.” He looked tired. What surprised me was that he did not have a disguise on him. I could see that he was poorly treated in the last couple of days. I knew that he also had no guns. From the way he walked, there was nothing that was buckled on his belt. That meant, this metal on my throat, is…

I put my hand up, and removed the metal from my throat. Mark croaked, “Hey John.”

He put his butter knife down, and looked guiltily at me.

“Sorry about the threats, didn’t mean to get you on your toes.”

I had counted 7.3 seconds, while backing off to the table. Then, in 1.8 seconds, I grabbed my handgun, loaded it, and pointed at Mark, because he was closer to me.

They could not hide the surprise when I pointed the gun at Mark. They both said “Woah”.

Then Ryan gained control of himself again, “John, calm down. We have nothing against you.” He spoke this in a very calmly, and grinned.

“Nice to see you again, brother,” he continued, “Wondering why we’re here, yes?”

I listened, and kept pointing my gun at Mark. “Well, I can explain to you. See, it’s a new assignment. And it involves you.”

He let it sink into me and I counted 2 seconds until I shot my 0.7 bullets into Mark’s shoulders. I heard the bullet digging into the flesh, and the sudden pain show up on Mark’s face. I tried to stay focused. There was no blood, which means that I got the right spot. Just between the bones, avoiding the major veins. I sighed with relief in the inside, but didn’t show it on my face. I ignored Mark kneeling and moaning, and turned to Ryan. His friendly face was gone, and he had his business face on.

“Fine. You can shoot both of us, and kill us. But you know they won’t stop. You know. So quit acting so tough, and listen for a second,” Ryan snarled. “We’re not here for our normal job. We need you in the safe-house by next Thursday. Wolf wants to see you.”

I froze at the sound of that name. Wolf.

“He’s dead,” I managed to say, uncertainly, “We-”

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Ryan cut me off with a cough.

“Just come, ok?” He said in a hurry, pointing to his tie. Of course. How could I be so stupid? Obviously he came with a mike on, to record and see the situation.

“Fine, I’ll be there.” I say, partly because I meant it and partly because there was a mike.

“Good,” Ryan answered. He was picking up Mark, whose face was in agony. He still smiled at me. As they were heading out the door, Ryan threw a piece of paper at my way.

“That’s Mark’s bank account. Hospital fee bro.” With a friendly smirk, they walked out, into the crispy air illuminated by the glow of the bright moon.

I take in a deep breath and look at my gleaming pistol.

I am ready.

Ready to be dead again.

Why Not Us? Brandon Sohn and James Oh To most people, fall is just another season when dried, scattered leaves are crunched ruthlessly as we walk on them; brisk air breathing on our skin signals that we are a step closer to winter. But to avid sports fans like us, seasons like fall are more than merely a change in the environment that we physically experience. In the midst of football season, basketball season is just underway and the premier league is starting to heat up. It is a great time to lean back and show admiration for your favourite sports. Boasting of its blue skies and cool breeze, fall is welcomed with fervent excitement by sport fanatics. After a sweltering hot summer, a cool breeze simmering across your legs feels so foreign, yet embracing. The season is filled with intimate images of fall like baseball KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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players fielding popouts with black shades on, scrumptious thanksgiving dinners and rows of children disguised in their fancy Halloween costumes, knocking on their neighbors’ doors. By far, fall meant much more to me than these images. It was my favorite season when I could exude all my talent.

Throughout my life, I was labeled as an unexceptional student blending with the crowd. Often compared to my brothers, John, Tyler, Michael, and James, I struggled under the shadow of their achievements. John, 25 years old, is my eldest brother and rightfully so, was the brightest as well; just to name a few of his accolades: he is a Rhode scholar in Oxford and valedictorian of class of 1999 in St. Vincent & Mary’s School (Which, kudos to me, I used to attend). Michael and Tyler (twin brothers) are stellar athletes, and socialites, holding multiple records in swimming and sweeping popularity contests. James, at 20 years old, is carrying out a life that every man salivates over: a life with a flashy car and a beautiful girlfriend that complements its beauty.

Then there’s me, Brandon Oh. The only award or accomplishment I ever won was “Best Smile Award”, which is ironic because I seldom have any achievements to smile about. During my years in St. Vincent & Mary’s school, I’ve shadowed a few college courses, which I passed with satisfactory grades.

Nevertheless, none of them caught my interest. I only chose these courses because they were generally regarded as intellectually prestigious. Through the countless hours of listening to lectures, sitting through tests and studying in my dorm, I was lost in the maze of my own thoughts.

Basketball.

6 months ago, two letters were sitting on my desk- an acceptance letter into Florida law school and a coaching job at Monte Vista High School. Although law school would offer me a more lucrative and respectable career upon graduation, I bravely chose the road not traveled. I decided to coach basketball at a remote High School in the slums of LA. Although the payment would be menial, I knew that my personal satisfaction would be immense since I have finally taken my courageous step to follow after my passion instead of living to meet the expected standards of other people.

Crossovers, dunks, posturizing defenders, even the trash talking and dirty disputes in the game…... Admiring legendary players like Michael Jordan, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson, I always kindled interest in basketball. I wanted to be a player; I wanted to be an all-time great. But frustrated by the limits of my talent and my stocky Asian physical stature, the dream of becoming a professional basketball player dissipated in the air. However, I had another veiled talent that was boiling within me. Since my childhood, I particularly excelled at recognizing each player’s talent, orchestrating game strategies and igniting the team spirit.

As I enter the sandy basketball court in my Honda SUV, I see the principal of the school, Mr. Johnson waiting for me in front of the gym. He kindly greets me and I excitedly shook his hands, as if I was promising a great future for the Monte Vista Tigers. My first impression of the gym was passable.

The courts were rather dusty but should do the job. Appearing to be a kind man, Mr. Johnson shows me my office in the back of the gym.

“These boys are trouble. Previous coach couldn’t handle any of these boys so he quit. They finished last in the league too...” his voice trailed off, losing confidence.

“I’ll do whatever I can, coach” I try to say as confidently as I can.

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That day, I come home to find my brothers chatting in the corner of the dining room secretly, not realizing I had entered the house.

“Dude, is he serious? Brandon got the job as coach?” James asserts.

“What does he think he’s doing?” John pitches in.

“He’ll come back to me soon, asking for money” said Michael.

“Typical Brandon, man nobody cares about coaches anyway” All four brothers agree and sigh in disbelief.

“Good morning gentlemen. My name is Brandon Oh and what I am handing out to you is an agreement regarding the rules of my team.” I hand out flimsy pieces of paper.

“This is ridiculous.” a tall boy with a lanky frame mumbles.

“If you don’t want to believe in how I run a team, then you can step out of the gym. Now, if you look at the piece of paper I handed you, there will be a series of rules.” I state.

“Why do we have to call you sir…” the shortest guy grumbles.

“I give you respect, and you respect me; that’s how it’ll work.” I respond.

“I’m done,” the biggest guy on the team crumbles up the paper and walks out of the gym.

“Anybody else?” I daringly offer the team.

“Me too, this is retarded,” a guy wearing an orange shirt tosses the paper into the wastebasket in a clean swoosh.

“Coach! Those guys are our two leading scorers that just walked out…”

“I guess we’ll have new leading scorers!” I point at the lanky guy, “What place did you guys get in last year?”

“Last place, sir.”

“Your attitudes are what drives you down and I’m here to fix that. Now, hustle!”

Dumbfounded by my overly excited voice, the players reluctantly drag themselves to the finish line.

“Before we practice offense or defense, we’re going to have to get fit. First, lets run 25 suicides and do 100 pushups.” I tell the boys.

None of them object to my order and practice goes on for another hour. Although they were gasping for air with a one hour, I persisted ruthlessly to finish off my rigorous exercise program that I had invented for the team.

“Coach, can we play some ball now, sir?” the lanky framed boy, whose name I soon found out was Tyreke complained.

“No, Tyreke! Not until you guys are all properly conditioned.”

After completing the arduous routine for five more practices, I finally decide to work on the strategic side of basketball.

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“Now that all of you boys are fit, it is time to practice our defense.” I proudly announce to the team.

Some sighs of relief come from the team.

“Now, that does not mean you do not follow the rules anymore. You must be prompt on game day, maintain a C average and sit in front rows during lectures. No exceptions!”

There’s no reaction from them because they now know that I don’t take any excuses.

Our first game is this friday and we haven’t learnt any offensive or defensive sets yet. Today is Wednesday and defense was all we had time for. ”So, team! I had 3 sisters: Karen, Marla and Sarah. Karen was uptight and she was with you wherever you went. She never gave you breathing room at all times. And Karen represents our trap defense.”

To promote understanding of different types of defense strategies, I make analogies.

“Now Marla was always passive but never made mistakes. She was always well organized and never out of shape. As you can tell, this will be our zone defense. Last, there was Sarah. She was always pairing up with her perfect match. Always the most popular of the bunch.”

“Was she hot coach?”

“Oh, mama, she was smoking hot!” I lick my finger and place it on my body and make the “Tsss” sound as if I was burning.

“Anyway, Sarah is our main defense- tight and abusive. So, let’s get to work!” I slap the ball with my hands and we break off.

Even though the intensity of practice was demanding, the boys didn’t lose their focus. I could tell my training had some positive effect. Nevertheless, I coerced my boys to proceed with 10 suicides and 100 pushups as a warm-up every day. On the side, my tall guys had to work on their shot blocking.

“If you’re born big, you have to go home big! Go work on your shot blocking. It’s the most efficient way to keep the ball away from the hoop!”

My point guards and shooting guards were to work on their ball stealing any chance they get.

Moreover, they had to work on their resilience to go out for the fast break and capitalize.

I informed them that fast breaks were the most fundamental way to score as they require minimal mental capability. If they were going to practice running, they should practice with a ball in their hand at all times. As the days went by, the grumpiness subsided and the team spirit rose.

It’s the game day today and the boys come in, wearing ties to go along with their run down button ups. We’re playing out of school today, so we should have a slight advantage in our first affair.

Our opponent is Parely, a team that finished in the middle of the pack last year.

“Just run and gun out there on offense. We’re fitter than them. We’ve been practicing defense so we shouldn’t have an issue there.” I assure the team.

I end with a quick word of prayer and head our team out to the court. During warm-ups, I tell Tyreke to take a role as a vocal leader.

This is the very first game I’m coaching. So mental anxiety and fear of failure is practically overwhelming. Yet, there’s one thing that sets a team apart from a gang of other students: Belief in KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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one another. I had the faith in them like brothers and a cohesive family. We trusted one another. All the sweat and tears in the game, practice in the gym are inferior to what makes us a better team in general and that was trust.

Tyreke, as the voice of the team, and the point guard makes plays for others. Jerome, the shooting guard of the team, is not only the best shooter in the team, but also the best personality in the team as well. Whenever, the morale of the team is disheartened, he does anything to bring his team back in a focused, favorable position. The small forward of the team is Brian. Brian can make plays from multiple positions and multiple angles, thus, making him a great asset for the team. Jose is the power forward, and also the most powerful. Every movement and every foot step has some mastery to it. And many of his opponents are scared away by his dominating presence on the court, and perhaps off the court too. Our newly acquired center is Patrick. Being exceptionally tall for a high school player, about 6 foot 11 in shoes, he has great raw potential and great footwork as he played football in the past. Our backup cast consists of Yuv, Kareem, Hakeem, and Dwayne. Although we lost our two scorers before the season even started, there was so much untapped potential on the team; it was my job to put it into full effect.

The game starts… Patrick wins the jump ball and it’s our first possession. From the way it’s looking to be, the other team looks especially focused and locked in, almost as if they were predators and we’re preys. Tyreke eyes quickly scans the court for an open teammate and makes a picturesque pass to Brian for an easy finish. Yet, the other team does not seem to show any mercy whatsoever in the next possession. Their hard-nosed defensive lineup and stubbornness made it difficult to make even half of our shots. Every shot we made were contested and rebounds were mercilessly snatched away from our grips…. To our disappointment, we finished the game with a huge point loss.

Although we didn’t work on our offense at all, we were able to play solid defense and ran the ball up and down the court- exactly what I wanted the team do. The offense was weak, but defense was flawless.

“We’ll go over the loss tomorrow. For now go home and rest up! We have practice every day from Monday to Friday. See you boys tomorrow.” I give them a friendly smirk, hinting a sense of security.

“Yes, sir.” they managed to groan half- heartedly.

I go home, and lie on my bed and think. We’ve been through 2 weeks of excruciating practices only consisting of relentless suicides, pushups, and defense. Look at these boys. They have elevated themselves from the bottom of the league to a group of guys full of team spirit. So full that they even call me sir! I hope the aspiring momentum will be maintained for the rest of the season.

It’s Monday and all the boys are standing at the baseline as I walk into the gym.

“Guess I won’t need much of a greeting today. Today, we’re going to work on my offensive sets.” I announce.

They all cheer and pump their fists. “Thanks, coach!”

“It’s Sir!” I jokingly snap at them. “Anyways, did you guys know I had two girlfriends back in your day?”

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Ohhh weeee” the boys wailed with their hands over their mouth.

“Now the first one was ecstatic, her name was Julia. She was always moving around and found out how to satisfy me in the right way. Anyways, this is our 32 motion offense, always moving and finding a way to score a basket.”

While we practiced this set, my guys grasped the concept quickly, displaying their hidden intelligence in understanding basketball tactics.

“It would be a shame to kick players off this team” I mumble under my breath as they continue to perfect the offense I taught them. I had known Patrick and Brian had a tendency to fail their classes due to their inability to manage time.

Everything else aside, we were able to execute both offenses at an exceptional standard. The other one was called Michelle, our post entry offense. This offensive set was specifically designed for our star Patrick.

From then on, we played 5 games squeezed into one month. They were games against Hayward High School, Redwood School, Community’s Best School, and San Jose Bolles School. We triumphantly grasped the winning trophy at the first game by a commanding 25 points and went on to win 4 consecutive games, shocking other teams in the league. Our offense grew more robust after countless hours of diligent practice and efficient time management which affected their academic performances as well. Not only were we more fit physically, but also we were mentally stronger with positive team spirit. I chuckled softly as I walked out of the gym after the last winning game. My philosophy in sports was proven true again. In sports, or anything in life, basic skills and overcoming the struggle within yourself, is the key factor to success. We didn’t gain instant success overnight, but numerous hours we dedicated to improve our basic skills were sure to promise success in the long run. The value of reward my team gave me was invaluable than any paycheck I may have received from a prestigious law firm.

We continued to work on the same things that contributed to the immense amount of success we’ve been having: offensive and defensive sets, fitness and fundamentals. We had a game against St. Andrews this weekend who were one place ahead of us for 1st. It wasn’t necessarily a rival game because we had been in the bottom of the league several decades until I had took over this year.

Nonetheless, it was still the most important game we’ve had yet. In fact, it had been our first legitimate challenge we’ve had all year.

Surprisingly, we’ve pulled away a 12 point lead by half time.

We score another basket against their defense who seemed half asleep today. Patrick and Hakeem do a corny celebration where they pretend to shine each other’s shoes.

“C’mon, get back on defense!” I snap at Patrick who’s just starting to take Hakeem’s shoes off of his knees.

A couple minutes later, Jerome starts pretending to take pictures of Brian who just slammed down a ferocious dunk.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“My goodness,” I say in utter disgust towards the bench.

Without a word of congratulation, I walk out of the locker room after the game. I sense the morale of over-confidence and cockiness for a team that has just been starting to do well. Although it was great to see Monte Vista be so successful this year, I needed to change this team’s attitude for greater accomplishment. What I needed to do was teach them a lesson…

Next day at practice, Tyreke makes a perfect pass to Brian for the finish.

“Did you see that boys? I drew that play up- I did!” I exclaim.

The boys give me an awkward look, they’ve always known their coach as quiet and strategic.

“Karen! Karen!” the boys immediately listens to Yuv’s commands.

They execute the defense perfectly.

“Boys, boys, boys! That’s some good defense I introduced you right there. Without me, none of you guys would have been able to play that smart!”

“Uh, sir, your shoe is untied.” Dwayne quickly comments.

I bend down and tie my shoelace. As I come back up with my head still staring at the knot, I brag, “Wow! I tied that shoe lace. Not you guys, me!”

The team is still utterly confused by my behaviour.

“Your guys’ attitude yesterday was atrocious. To disrespect your foe in that fashion is just downright nasty…” I lecture.

They all stare at their feet in guilt, avoiding eye contact with me.

“I’d rather take a humble bunch of scrubs than a group of cocky guys with the talent of NBA stars. Do you want your success to be brought down by something you’ve all been taught to do since you were born, respect? Practice is out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walk out the gym knowing I have to take the initiative.

Usually I would go straight home after practice because we had ended so late. However, we only spent one hour in the gym today and I decide to go to my office.

“Perfect time to check in with the boy’s grades,” I think to myself.

I search for the reports the various teachers left on my desk last weekend. I open the reports one by one. My eyes widen as I cannot believe what I am seeing.

At least three quarters of my team had been failing over half their classes. I was infuriated and could not believe in them. So they thought my rules were just a joke, huh? I had come into this season with a mentality of being a mentor, not only a coach. You might think I’m wrong for caring about these boys’ academics, however I’ve grown to care for these boys like my children.

I pick up the phone, “Karen, can you tell St. John we’re forfeiting against them next week?” I ask the secretary.

“What? You can’t do that. It’s our best season so far and we’re only a couple places behind first.” she replies.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Karen, please.” I hang up the phone and head straight home.

The next day, I woke up and search the local newspaper for a statement on the forfeit. It didn’t take me too long as it was on the front page in big letters, “Monte Vista forfeits basketball game...” In the news, there were some filthy comments about me and many conspiracies on the issue.

I hadn’t realized high school basketball had grown so big in the community.

I arrive school at around 8 am- the usual time. However this time, the door to the gym had been surrounded by newspapers. Questions were being thrown and camera clocks everywhere; I decide to ignore everything.

As expected, my players come to my office after school and ask what’s going on.

“I’ll show you what’s going on…” I hand the reports at them in a very tense way.

“Awww man, Coach is going to bring up this bull up to us…” Dwayne exclaims.

“Yeah coach, it’s really not fair for those who actually did what needed to be done,” Tyreke comments.

“We aren’t even going to play another game if this continues!” I lecture, trying to get the message through clearly.

I end up setting up desks in the gym as symbolism to what’s more important. They come in every practice to study and focus on their academics. I even ask some teachers to come and teach these students on topics they’ve fell behind on. Although they continue to moan and complain, their grades gradually increase. I continue to surrender games until our grades are proficient. However, I use false cover up stories to explain our absence in important league games.

We end up surrendering 3 games to conclude our bump in the road. I can tell you now, these boys aren’t all going to be playing basketball for a living. These high schoolers need to know that they need a career and a commitment in life and academics plays a huge role in it.

We finished the season off with 4 straight wins and brushed off our morale issues as we squeezed past St. John for second place. What was left? First, we needed to play the state tournament which was the first time we were able to participate. Although we finished second place in our league, it was still a long shot in getting a seed in the tournament due to our school’s substandard reputation.

It’s a day before the call is going to come and things have quite changed at home. It feels like my brothers have been respecting me more as a person, calling me coach Oh instead of Brandon, which was typically the case. At home, they started to treat me like one of them, whilst I was the outcast in the family for my whole life. Although pay wasn’t great as a high school basketball coach, the trade for some respect was something I don’t and won’t regret.

“Why don’t we ask Coach what he wants for dinner today, after all he finished first place,” John suggests.

“I’m not going...” Dad states.

“I guess Chinese is fine.” I give a smirk and feel good on the inside. However, my father had still been upset about my decision between law school and basketball.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

We eat at a local Chinese restaurant. It tastes better than all the other restaurants for some reason; maybe it’s just me and the way the day’s going today.

“I didn’t know what he ate for breakfast but he was like Speedy McGee out there!” I comment on Brian’s magnificent play today.

“Seems like you’re having fun out there,” my mom smiles.

“Anyway, we get the call for the national championship tournament tomorrow; you know, whether I qualify or not” I say as I lean back on my chair. There had been a sick feeling in my stomach.

I go home and sit on my bed. I still have mixed feelings of nervousness and insecurity. Through this amazing journey with my team, my dad hadn’t even been in the back of my mind. Eating dinner with my whole family except him had been tough and made me realize what I had been missing, my father’s support. If I continued to coach, it would contradict what my father would want me to do- go to law school. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to get the call from the National High School Basketball Committee. But I couldn’t imagine myself leaving the team and all the hard work they put into getting this far.

“What's Up coach!” Yuv exclaims, obviously excited for the NHSBC’s call.

“Hey Yuv.” I give a warm smile. “Tell the boys to come to my office during lunch. The call comes at 1.”

The team crowds around my desk. All 10 pairs of eyes are staring at the phone.

The call will come any second from now. Will we make it to the national championship? How much will this decision mean for my father? What if I choose law school over the team? Yuv, Kareem, Dwayne and Hakeem have waited all their lives for this moment, the moment where all their efforts will pay off, when others told them they were not even going to make the team. The starters, Tyreke, Brian, Patrick, Jose, and Jerome, are more nervous than anybody. The starting five spent many hours on end in the court, the gym, and took time off their days to coordinate and make finishing touches to their games. The tension, grasped on to their basketball uniforms, and the numbers, signifying their birth dates, their favorite numbers, and most importantly their pride.

Ring….. Ring…. Ring….. The phone rings determining our destiny. I advised Tyreke to answer the phone. We put the phone on speaker and all of our players and staff clustered closer around the phone.

“Hello? Is it Brandon?” A man with a husky, yet familiar voice questions.

I recognize him. It’s my dad. He hasn’t directly talked to him in ages, “Dad…” “Son, I just want you to know that I want you to go to law school. Basketball isn’t a safe career route to take.”

I sit in my office chair, surrounded by my players. I go red with humiliation, surprise and anxiousness. They all look around, whispering to each other, afraid that U was listening.

The phone rings. Tyreke answers again without instruction. “Hello?”

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Good afternoon! This is the NHSBC and we’re here to share amazing news. You guys have qualified for the state tournament.”

The reaction was much less ecstatic that I thought it would have been in the beginning of the season.

“Thank you…” Tyreke replies half- heartedly and hangs up.

As the star of the team, Brian speaks up, “Coach, you’ve cared about our stupid bums this whole season. We want to return the favor and choose to do what you want. After all you’re the one who brought us here.”

Wow, they’re allowing me to drop our opportunity of participating in a state-wide tournament.

“Thanks boys, give me some time to think about it.”

I go home and it turns out my Dad’s been out drinking. I think about the pros and cons about each decision.

First, there’s law school. My dad’s pretty correct when he says the law school is a much safer route. In addition, there’s extremely good pay when I become more aged. However, I just can’t imagine myself sitting in court for weeks after weeks. The excruciating thought of writing cases, arguing against middle aged adults and being witnessed by jurors is painful.

On the other hand, there’s basketball. As I’ve explained before, I always loved the game and it drives my motive in becoming more discipline in all aspects of life. Also, how could I forget about these boys? They’ve been through me thick and thin and basketball is the most important thing to them in the world- all 8 of them. However, this might not be a great long term investment in the future. Unless I step up to becoming a college coach or even NBA, I’ll never be able to be in a stable financial situation.

I ask my older brother for advice, he would know best. “Hey, John…” I explain the current situation I’m in and he nods attentively the whole time.

“Sounds tough little bro. Just do what you love…” he smirks at me and I actually appreciate his quick and decisive response.

I go to school with the mindset of becoming a basketball coach. I direct them to gather around my desk and the tension is even higher before yesterday’s call.

“Boys, I know we had an awkward encounter yesterday. You might know what is at stake for me right now, but I’m dropping the whole lawyer idea. Let’s win a championship boys!”

My office erupted. Never has there been so much excitement with my team before. The feeling was great and I was sure we would win this championship. Anything else would be short of what we deserved. Fortunately, news about me hasn’t reached media yet so I guess you can say I dodged a bullet.

We were able to get to the quarter finals quite convincingly. However, we faced our rival St. Andrews who came from the same league as us. We won the tip off and the game went back and forth until it was tied with a minute left in the 4th quarter. Brian went on fire and we were able to pull away for a 6 point margin. It seems like that kid always stepped up for us in big moments like this.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

In the semi- finals, we were playing an all- white team. Apparently, half their squad was cut due to racial slurs. Luckily, that game was a breeze as they seemed totally lost without some of their role players.

Now here was the biggest moment of these kid’s lives- the finals. Fortunately, we’re playing at our home court and the gym is packed 30 minutes before the game. I eye my boys getting to the locker rooms in their best suits and ties for game day. They’ve been accustomed to this routine of coming in nicely on game day. I meet them in the locker room and they are all obviously nervous, but enthusiastic at the opportunity that has been given to them.

“Hey coach.” Tyreke greets me as he walks in the locker room.

I only give him a friendly smile. Knowing I might have to save my voice for an intense game.

Both teams are warming up 15 minutes before gametime. They all look sharp and humble in their warm up clothes which Under Armour have kindly sponsored us with. This game was obviously more important than all the other ones so we were instructed to sit down on the team benches for team introductions. As the starters were being called one by one, fancy lights were shining on every player.

I give my boys a small pep talk, one that I . I didn’t want to build up the tension that was already so immense.

It’s finally game time and the starters go out on the court. They win the tip off and run their basic motion and score and easy basket right off the bat. I had a sick feeling that they weren’t ready to play. However, that was only the first play of the game so I should let them play it out and see how things go. The 2nd quarter ends with us being down by 5 which we aren’t very used to. The teams retreat to their locker rooms to re-gather.

“They know we want blood. All we gotta do is show them! C’mon now, everyone of you are better than the players on that team so prove it” “Yes coach!” they all shout in unison.

We head into the game with a different mentality and flip the tables. Patrick, the biggest guy on the court steps his game up and carried our team to a lead in the 3rd quarter. We head into the final minutes of the game with a one point lead after exchanging baskets for the better part of the fourth quarter.

They come blazing hot out of the time out and manage to gain a considerably large lead of 6 points with 3 minutes left. I hesitate to call a time out because the other team looked like they were getting tired. Despite this, I tell Brian that he has to take the commanding lead to win us this game while the other team shoots free throws.

Coming down the court, he does just that and pulls up for a 3 pointer right in the defender’s face. The lead was cut down to 2 and it was their ball with 30 seconds left. We needed a big stop and come down the court quickly and shoot a three to win us the game. This is where we had to shine.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Karen, Karen!” Tyreke yelled.

Karen was our trap defense and was designed for us to trap them in the half court to steal the ball. We’ve only used it a couple times the whole season because it was a rare situation to be down so late in the game for us. Brian was able to steal the ball from their best player and dribble down the court. He looks at me and I give a nod, a sign of approval to keep playing; we didn’t need a timeout.

“Julia!” Brian yelled. He hadn’t always been the loudest one on the court. However, he wanted this win more than anyone else.

His teammates cleared out for him, giving him enough space to dance on the defender and shoot a three. Everybody in the gym knew he was taking the shot.

He started off with a quick hesitation move to put his defender on his heels. Then stepped back as if he was going to take the shot. Finally, he put on a little head fake to get the defender in the air. Brian took one more dribble to his right to avoid the player flying past him. He planted his feet, looked up at the rim, brought his whole body up for the shot and released. The ball had perfect spin…

Swish.

The world erupts with applause!

Shades of Blue Alexia Diamany And breathe.

Dogs bark briskly, heels click and water spews from about 2 meters away.

I’m at the Park.

Great.

Anyone with my condition would feel this way, I mean-

“HEY! WATCH IT!” A rude cyclist yells in my direction. I wonder where they must be, but my guess is behind me now.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Seriously, IT”S LIKE YOU’RE BLIND!” As he speeds off, I hear the noises around me stop.

“I am…” my voice seems like a whisper, my heart sinks and dissolves in the pool of tears appearing on the grass below me. I sigh, and guide myself to the nearest bench. Weeping, I fail to wipe the tears so I don’t seem weak… a lie I don’t have to tell.

“Well, well, well, look who it is…”

I shudder away from the sound. I don’t need a stick to tell me where he is. I can sense the hatred melting off his body and sticking to mine like a syrup only with each drop, it burns like acid. He clicks his fingers right in my face.

“Over here, Purple.”

I don’t need to ask who he is, nor what he wants - power. He’s Harry Criccrack, the most popular boy in Ivy Lodge High School, but also, a class clown. Power and the respect of others is what he wants. He thrives on the merciless, innocent ants in the adolescent Hierarchy. Interloper Population, one… Me.

“My name is Blue, not purple.” I mutter, feeling disgusted at the presence of him. He makes the warmth in my heart disappear and the hope in my soul non-existent, like an eternal winter has settled in the deep pits of my spirit.

“Oh, that’s right. Can you get up, me and my date are going to sit there.” Harry starts.

I roll my eyes, it’s his true character to never go anywhere without a date, all of the same kind. Maybe even family. I can tell by the voice and the perfume that they wear; cheap, always cheap. Much like the shallow personalities of the victims of the hurricane, that is the affection of Harry Criccrack.

“Whatever Harry.” I grab my things and lead myself to the next bench around two metres away. As I walk away I remember a scent, a strong scent, one I’ve known all my life, watered down tobacco and strong alcohol, masked with a fake perfume. Autumn. Autumn had been my friend ever since birth.

She’d been through everything with me, but it was when her mother got arrested and her father started smoking, that the baggage of my life became too heavy for her. She became obsessed with popularity, in her eyes’ it was: Popular friends = Rich friends Rich friends = Rich connections Rich connections = Ivy league schools Ivy league schools = Ticket out of Ann Arbor Everything she ever wanted.

But there’s someone new with her. They smell of sweat and coffee - Starbucks coffee. My plan is to walk right passed her and sit down, I can’t bear the thought of her long brown hair in slight ringlets KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

caressing her shoulder as she flips it, her new boyfriend in her arms. I couldn’t handle another boy who she’s with, it’s almost as many as Harry.

“Hello Blue!” Autumn beams. She’s meaning to sound genuine, but her words are dipped in sarcasm. I grit my teeth.

“Hello, Autumn.” I reply seething with invisible irritation, I hear the person on her arm shuffle uncomfortably, “Oh, is this your new boyfriend?” I am ready for the answer to be yes but, I am wrong.

“I’m her cousin, Tony, Tony Hoult.” Tony starts, and in an instant my heart stops. The overflowing emotion of love engulfs me. His soft and velvety, low voice can easily be compared to an angel. Tony reaches out and holds my hand, I feel an electric shock go through my body. I look down, though I see nothing.

“Um…” I murmur, not seeing the point of a male with an attractive voice holding the hand of a creature like me. I am pleasantly surprised when he shakes my hand. I smile, for the first time since I was 3… an ordinary humane gesture.

“You have a beautiful smile, Blue.” Tony says, after obviously seeing my silent joy in the simplest gesture. Though obviously kind, his sentence makes no sense. Physically, the sentence is correct (I have an A+ in English), but the words beautiful and Blue (my name, not the colour) are antonyms. Polar Opposites. I wouldn’t know how I look, but according to everybody around me, I’m hideous. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I’ve never been flirted with. To add to that, I have Harry, criticizing my every move and like the rest of the students in the school, my appearance is the last thing that anyone would like to lay they’re eyes on.

“Sure you do….” Autumn mutters under her breath, I snap my head towards her. It’s not new of her to be so catty, but it is still painful to hear. “Tony, we have to get going.” I hear her whisk away Tony, but before he leaves he leans in close, so close I can practically taste his last meal.

“I hope to see you again, Blue.”

***************************************************************************************** “Tony?”

“Yes, I’m still here.” He replies sleepily, I can just hear him rubbing his eyes, I feel my watch on my left hand, it reads 10:30pm. I’ve been in this park for 10 hours. 10 hours with Tony. Tony Hoult. My Tony Hoult. But, I know he would never want me to be his, I know I’m ugly. “Want to feel my expression again?”

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“I don’t have to, I know, you’re tired.” I say, my hands stroking through his dark brown hair, he chuckles then returns to falling asleep on my lap.

“I really like you Blue.” Tony says, gazing into the sky.

“Of course you do.” I say rolling my eyes. “You feel sorry for me.” Tony had been the one person in the world who had not taken pity on me and now, he had. Saying that he likes me is just like saying that every baby is beautiful, the more people say it- the faker it becomes.

“But, I do. I love hearing all your stories.” He sounds genuine, but I’ve known ever since birth that people lie. It’s the human race’s favourite pass time. I begin to leave but he holds me back. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I just MET you!” I scream, emotions of deceit, raising to the surface, putting my body into a frenzy of wild and paranoid thoughts. I grabbed my belongings and began walking away, until Tony stood up and followed me. A steady walk became a fast speed chase.

“BLUE!” Tony yells from behind. “I think I love you!”

“Don’t lie to yourself!” I screech. The fact that he said that he loves me isn’t the surprise, but it’s that he kept saying it. I stop in my tracks as I can feel the terrain change, I think I’m in the street, but it’s quite outside, no cars. Tony is like a representation of all of the things that I cannot have. A perfect life: Two parents that love each other, popularity, fortune and beauty.

“You truly are beautiful, Blue!”

I turn around. Honesty, in a world of lies is like a diamond in the desert. It’s beautiful, much like what Tony has just called me. In a moment, my body became warm, the love that he felt for me consumed me. Like snow was melting after years of winter. A tear leaves my eyes, like an autumn leaf falling from a branch, and splashes on the ground. In an instant, a white light surrounds me and I feel a heavy object collide with me. A soul destroying crack booms through the near empty park. Followed by wheels screeching till silence.

I am numb.

No feeling. Not a word can I hear. No taste in my mouth but blood. But I can feel him.

Tony.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

He runs to my side cradling my body, frail and weak. As if I am the last snow of winter, I melt in his warm hands. He keeps mumbling something, but I am too focused on seeing his beautiful deep blue eyes that complement his pale complexion and dark hair. I feel my eyelids weighing on me. I no longer feel the anguish but I feel fulfilled. My eyes give way and they shut, after seeing my prince charming for the first time, I let the darkness envelope me, slowly but surely. Letting the summer and winter of my life merge together…

Parasite Stuart Toft “I am dying. Why did you do this?” She cried, tears gleaming in her eyes.

“All lies, you’re perfectly fine.” We snapped.

“But I gave you food! You need me to survive. Why are you killing me? Please save me...” Her eyes, were unable to hold back tears.

“In a moment! Hang tight!” We snarled “But I gave you a home! You need me to survive. Why are you killing me? Please save me...” She sobbed, and pleaded with us.

“Okay, okay. We’ll get on it right away.” We finally agree.

Although, with some resistance still evident in our voices.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“But I gave you light… You need me to survive. Why are you killing me? Please save me...” Now her right cheek is wet and her eyes, red.

“Okay I’m trying but this is hard. It’ll take a while.” We answer. However this time, more frantically.

“But I gave you life... You need me to survive. Why are you killing me? Please save me...” She will cry, wailing hopelessly.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything. It’s far too late and I need you… Please don’t die...” We will plead.

“You took her away… How could you?” She will say, with her one tear dried on her face.

“What did you mea‐” We will stammer frantically.

“You killed her… They all followed- so will you!” She will snarl menacingly.

“B‐but I never killed anyone!” We will exclaim with fear evident in our voices.

“Winter… She’s dead. The four seasons, they’re dead…And now… So are you.” Her voice, calm yet trembling, will be terrifying.

“No please I‐ Earth...” We will plead for the last time.

“It’s too late… So will you.” She will whisper…

Then she will die.

With that we will know we have gone too far.

A Winter’s Tale Adam Kennedy Old folk’s tales speak of dark spirits that inhabit the Black Forest, seeking out their prey and leading them to an unknown fate, of cold, dark winters that plague the countryside, paralysing their victims

Grace woke up to the sound of her own screaming. It was the same nightmare as every other night. She was out in the woods, alone. She always had this same eerie feeling, like something was following her, like something was out to get her. She just didn’t know what it was. The Black Forest has quite a reputation, filled with countless stories of those who wondered into the woods alone and never returned. She used to roam the woods with her father as a child, but ever since her father went out hunting and never returned, she doesn’t dare step a foot within those woods.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

It was 4 AM, not an unusual time for her to be awake. She arose from her small bed in a sloth-like manner and draped a worn blanket around her shoulders.

“Better stick the kettle on...” she mumbled to herself as she headed for the kitchen. As the kettle boiled, Grace still couldn’t shake that eerie feeling that she was being followed. She poured a cuppa, one teabag, two sugars and a splash of milk before heading back to her room. She grabbed her phone and climbed back into her bed. Grace turned it on, “new message” read the brightly lit screen. She opened it up and gasped. The message read: “it’s coming for you”. She thought nothing of it, thinking it was just some sick joke; she simply blocked it out of her mind and fell asleep again.

She was out in the woods, it was dark, cold and the wind was rustling through the trees. All around her she could hear twigs snapping and leaves being crushed. Screams echoed in the distance. She broke into a sprint, sensing that something was following her; something was trying to get her. It seemed like her predator was coming at her from all directions; yet she couldn’t see it. The air was thick and fog lingered among the ferns. Her heart roared, her throat was dry, her mind couldn’t think straight. She had to stop running but she knew she couldn’t. It was getting closer, she could feel it. The air behind was getting colder, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up like a blade of grass. Her foot got caught in a root and snapped. She cried out in pain and tumbled into a pile of leaves. The air was silent and all she could hear was her own heartbeat and her ankle screaming at her, and she dared not breathe in the fear of the cold finding her.

It was pitch black. She couldn’t see much further than her own grubby hands. She fumbled around in a pocket. Being a pack-a-day smoker, she knew she had a lighter somewhere. Grace pulled a zippo out of her back pocket. She groaned as she tried to stand up; her ankle was badly broken. To her dismay, she was stuck, and couldn’t move. The air suddenly grew cold, leaves rustled around her and the pleasant breeze stopped blowing.

It had found her... she could sense it. It took her several tries to light her zippo. Her surroundings were lit up with a dim, yellow light. She looked around her, and that was when she saw it. It closed in on her, the air around her was colder than ever and the lighter had blown out. It smothered her entirely, she grasped at the air around, trying to find a way to escape. Grace could feel herself going cold; it started with her feet and worked its way up. She didn’t try and fight it but she knew there was no hope. She was giving in, the darkness was consuming her, and she felt like an icicle, motionless, fragile and beautiful. Then the icicle shattered.

Grace Clarence never woke up from that dream, no one really knows why. All the investigators had as evidence, was a broken ankle and a body temperature of below 10 degrees...

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Snow Noah Jung “Aargh” Aargh was the only word that my autistic brother Jeff ever spoke. If you could call it a word. He had never put a sensible sentence together in his life and I doubted he ever would.

“Come on Jeff, get out of the bathroom. You’ve been stuck in there for the past three hours.”

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Jeff was also obsessed with toilet paper. He had collected numerous rolls over the years and had stashed them in the attic, making his own toilet paper fort.

“Hey, I’m serious, get out of there now. Mom’s worried about you.”

“Aargh” Things had gone awry nowadays. Mum’s cancer had developed much more quickly than the doctors had expected which meant that there was little of chance of her being able to see the snow one more time. Snow was to Mum as was toilet paper rolls were to Jeff. It made her who she was - complete even. But now that she had cancer...

Jeff had become more isolated as well, staying many hours up in the attic with his toilet roll castle. It was hard to tell if he actually knew what was happening.

This was a common emotion I felt when near my brother. Even though I knew it wasn’t his fault, sometimes it felt like I would explode.

“Jeff, for god’s sake...”

I could feel the anger and frustration building up. This was a common emotion. I felt good to blame someone for everything that was going wrong. After waiting a minute or so for any sign of an answer, I turned around and marched to my room. ******************* “I wish I could see the snow one more time before I go...”

“Maybe,” Dad sighed.

Things had gotten worse over the past month. Mom’s cancer had spread furiously and she was now so sick that she could barely lift up a spoon to eat. Jeff had become even more isolated, spending days by himself up in the attic. Any attempt to bring him down was met with furious “Aarghs” and hails of toilet paper rolls.

Dad had finally given up on him and had focused on Mum instead. I considered myself an optimist but the chances of Mum holding on till winter seemed slim.

Crash!

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My thoughts were interrupted by a falling ceiling tile.

“Uh Dad, did you see that?”

“Yeah, what’s going on up there?”

Another tile fell to the ground. And another.

“Is that Jeff?” Dad asked cautiously “I think it-” I was interrupted by an excited squeal and yet another falling tile.

“Yeah it is,” I spoke.

Dad shouted angrily “For god sakes, can Jeff stay out trouble just once?Stay here while I go and fetch him.”

He rushed out of the room, cursing under his breath. I sat down on the chair next to where Mum was lying and stared blankly ahead. I could hear more squealing and shouting before it abruptly stopped.

Then, like a dream white flakes started descending gracefully towards the ground, swirling around, carried by a soft breeze. Was that snow? In the summer? I squinted out the window before realising that what I had imagined to be snow was in fact toilet paper...

“Look Matthew, it’s snow...” Mum spoke softly “Jeff” I slowly muttered.

Had he planned this along? How did he know about Mum’s illness? Maybe Jeff wasn’t as stupid as I thought him to be. I looked back at Mum. For the first time in months she smiled.

And so did I.

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Commented [1]: I think there should be a comma after "is." There are a few other situations like this throughout the story.

Commented [2]: I just realised this haha

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The Truth Ligun Rhi “Why is winter so different from the rest of the seasons Mum?” I ask curiously, gazing at my mother with wide innocent eyes.

“Winter has no meaning, it is just a plain feature of the seasons that leaves no memories in its trace.” She replies, closing the curtains completely.

“What does it offer Mum?” I ask again mischievously.

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“Nothing but cold and frostbite, providing no joy whatsoever.” She replies again.

“What is its purpose then Mum?” I ask once more with misconception.

“Purposeless. It should be of no existence.” She replies once more with slight emotion.

11:59 on the clock.

“Go to sleep now. Don’t be frightened… As Winter Watches Over Us.” She whispers.

I remember that night like it was yesterday. It was eight years ago back when I was only six years old. I remember it clearly… It was a chilly winter afternoon. Almost midnight ‐ I couldn’t fall asleep, shivering to the bone every second ticking. My Mum came in that night and told me a few stories to help me relax and drift into sleep.

Before she left the room, she whispered, “Winter Watches Over Us…” I’ve heard that somewhere. I know I have. Standing out right out of my mind like a bullet. What was she going on about that night?

December 19th 2013 ‐ It’s quite chilly here once again ‐ here in Chicago. It’s almost that time of year again where Winter lurks just around the corner. Now I know what you’re thinking.

“Sweet! No School!” Unfortunately that’s not my case. My name is Jason. I’m 14 years old. I have a sickness like no other. Winter is my enemy as well as my friend. I’ve always dreamt of what snow feels like. What it tastes like. What having a snowball fight is like. I can’t help but love snow. Always just out of my reach... I’ve always had this strange and peculiar synergy with winter, ever since I was young. It’s like it took control of me.

My Dad passed away when I was the age of 4, leaving just my Mum and me. I never knew why he passed away. My Mum would never say a word about it no matter how much I asked. It was like part of my life was missing growing up and being raised without a real father. My life’s never been the same ever since…

The next morning, I’m still curious about what my Mum said to me eight years ago.

What could it possibly mean? Am I wasting my time with this? I lie back down in my cozy bed, all confused, staring out my window. Watching tiny shards of snow falling from the bright sky. Sometimes I despise snow, just as much I love it. And I absolutely adore snow; it’s like layers of soft white ice‐cream from the sky. At least that’s what I think it’s like. Refreshing; as well as tricky and deceiving. I

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close my eyes for a minute or two; thinking the deepest I can reach at the top of my head. Silence fills the air.

“Mum! I need to talk to you!” I yell across the hallway desperately.

She enters immediately with awe, and sits down on my bed right beside me.

“Do you have a fever again, Jason?” she asks, while touching my forehead for unusual heat.

“No Mum. That’s not it. I need to ask you something that happened eight years ago.”

She suddenly faces the other way, pauses for a moment, and stands up.

“If this is anything about your father. Please Jason you don’t…”

“I NEED TO KNOW.” I cut her off mid‐sentence.

She closes the door, and glares at me. I’m just sitting, looking back at her with a blank expression… Waiting for an answer.

“Well?” I say.

“Your father... wasn’t just an ordinary man. He had an extremely rare sickness, almost like yours. But it was far worse. He got it when he was 10. No one knows how he got it. As he grew up, it got a lot more severe. By the time I met your Dad, it was almost already too late… Our specialist doctor told me that he wasn’t going to make it… He locked himself in his office for 3 weeks straight. He had turned mad just in a few weeks. I could hear nothing but screaming and shouting from behind his office door every day. He would not open the door no matter how much I begged. It was getting worse every day. Until it happened…” She ends with.

“It? What is it? Tell me!” I shout at my own mother.

Awkward. Very Awkward. Both of us just staring into the blank wall. Heavy breathing.

“One day. I saw your Father’s office door open for the first time. I entered his room step by step and all I could see was a giant knife drowned in a pool of blood. The window was wide open and everything was a mess. Unreadable writing with black markers all over the wall and ripped pages of book covering the floor. It was a sight I couldn’t dare to forget. His body was nowhere to be found, he has been missing ever since.”

I look down immediately, sweating like all the liquid has been extracted from my body. I don’t believe this, but it is my own Mother telling me this.

I walk out emotionless, leaving my Mother in tears. But of no choice of course. I walk down the hall.

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“Why should I keep doing this?” I whisper. I come across an old room in my house, sealed up and locked tightly. This must have been my Dad’s office. It must be.

Without hesitation I kick it down with force.

…Agony…

Darkness. Emptiness. Hollow inside. Mere words cannot describe my sight. Pitch blackness reached every corner of the room. The blood stain on the floor was still remaining. The knife that was there before, was still left on a table. Right beside it, a few photographs of a funeral in 1997. Exactly when I was 4 years old…

Underneath, lies the answer to my life. A picture of my Dad.

I grasp the knife firmly in my left hand, …

As Winter watches over me: “I’d rather die with him.”

The Four Seasons Jessica McLaughlin and Jung Kwon

“The unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another” -murder It was getting warmer day by day; every step I took felt like I was getting closer to summer. I couldn’t wait to be able to embrace the warmth of the sizzling sun, which felt to be only a few feet away.

It felt marvelous, except for the fact that it felt as if I was getting further away from my mother and my family. Every step I took towards Summer, I was taking away from Spring, the season that my beloved mother was found dead in our very own house.

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I get that it’s hard to believe. Trust me, it was hard for me too. I just thought that those murder cases were just stories… *** “Good evening, this is JMK 8 o’clock news reporting live, with Carla Williams. We will

begin with the…”

I couldn’t listen any longer. I had had enough of all the news reports talking nonsense all the time. Their news reports weren’t even true. These days, the reporters don’t even go to the “accident” scenes, or should I say “crime” scenes. I heard from my grand-parents long ago,that in 2014, the police and crime investigators actually went to the scenes to examine what had actually happened. They mentioned that the news reports were most likely to be accurate.

‘Things changed so much since back then…’

I’m guessing you already know that the “tragic story” recorded when I was little, was the death of my mother.

It might be hard to believe, but I was actually at the scene. It was all live in front of my eyes, and all I could do was watch. I don’t know what exactly happened before, but when I walked into the house after school, the house was all messed up. Clothes were torn in my bedroom, the furniture knocked down… I glimpsed a small crack leading to my mother’s bedroom, but the light coming from it was gleaming with pride. The door creaked as I opened it, and what I found there was something I wasn’t expecting. There was blood all along the beautifully clean carpet (just washed the day before). The knife which lay next to her was almost not able to be identified.

“MOM!” I cried.

That was when I heard the front door slide open again, and my reflexes just told me to stay calm and slide under the bed, just so that the person wouldn’t be able to see me, but I still had the vision of my mom. In pain.

Footsteps; slow but steady. The heels of the shoes must have been made of some sort of metal; it wasn’t very pleasant to listen to. That was when the phone rang, and I heard the deep voice of a man.

“Hello? Yes, but I’m not quite sure where the bracelet is. Are you sure you left it here?”

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That was it. The bracelet that I had picked up at school. What did it mean? Was is that important, that you had to take someone’s life in order to get it? I just didn’t understand. *** I have a power.

A power that some may want, while others don’t. A power that involves being greedy, and it matters whether or not you are committed to it. The powers increase day by day, and it’s hard to restrain. The powers that are unable to be controlled; the powers that make me, that are within me. *** 6 hours in the dark and the dust… with severe asthma, I could not take it. The dust suffocated me bit by bit… Under my bed was the only “safe” place. I stared at him in the eye, groaning for revenge. He was tall but skinny… easy to defeat. The intruder constantly murmured, repeated some words as he searched for me in my house, which contained the dead corpse of my mom.

I closed my eyes I kept on hypnotising myself; ‘Pretend I’m not here. Just pretend I’m nothing’ “Its…o ….”

“Its ok…. c…..”

He repeated the words over and over as he searched…

“Its okay come…o..”

His words and footsteps became clearer and clearer as he got close to my bed…

“Its okay come out…”

The words were getting louder each moment that seemed to be passing by…

I opened my eyes. There, he was! I could only see the smiling face right in front of me… beside my bed. . . .

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.

I could not make any noise, I held my breath…

I looked straight into his eyes, He slowly stood back up and whispered “I will get you.”

Thinking of this… still gives me goosebumps...

I don’t think he had noticed me as I was hidden deeply beneath the shadows of my bed…

When I dream, I dream about waking up under the warm gold bright sun, until the clouds mask over it and take my happiness away. *** Justin. The son of the one I murdered, and who I could not murder… My powers are irresistable… *** I needed to watch something else than this stupid news channel. I switched the channel to anything I could find; another murder case. A letter was found it wrote: irresistible, fright, thrill -T I couldn’t get my mind off the incident. *** ‘Find me if you can’ I knew Justin would be able to decode the letter, he will come to find me and I will take his last breath then… *** KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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I felt myself troubling to catch one more breath as I ran to find him. The letter was a message- for me.

I did not know where he was but my senses told me it was here- in this house. ‘It had to be here’ I thought to myself…

I could feel my heartbeat- it was getting faster. I held my breath and walked towards the closet, where I felt as if the murderer was inside. I slowly and carefully opened the wooden closet doors which appeared to be quite ordinary.

Nothing.

But my own reflection...

Kill Them All Eunice Ra The blazing sun was cast upon the bright green grass that surrounded my body. As I closed my eyes, I felt the wind blowing back my hair, and the sun warming me from head to toe. I smelt the beautiful scent of nature and took in everything around me from the flowers that ranged in every different color, to the sound of birds chirping and the leaves rustling.

I was happy, and the summer weather felt good. All my worries were lifted off by the wind that blew through the meadow, but as I closed my eyes and drifted off, I felt a tugging feeling within me.

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I opened my eyes and was no longer in the once beautiful land I was before. Instead, it was dark, cold and resembled the heart of winter. My surroundings were not full of life, but death. So I slowly stood up and walked. With one foot in front of the other, I followed the pathway that led me out of darkness...

Walking away from all my fears I went in the direction that lead to happiness, hope, and love.

I wanted to get there faster. I wanted to run there, run to my happiness and light - and I did. I kept running, and running, but I never saw the end of it. I couldn’t reach my happiness, and as I slowed down to catch my breath, I felt lost.

Aurora.

The echo of my name penetrated my train of thought. The voice was loud, and caring, it put me at ease, but then everything began to shake. The walls collapsed, shattering like a mirror, and next - I was awoken.

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

With one eye opening at a time, I was greeted with the smell of smoke and alcohol I had come to secretly love. As I lay awake, facing the ceiling, I saw an image shifting from my right side. I could easily make out who it was, and surprise, surprise, it was him.

He could make all my dark days, bright. He could make all the bad, good. He could help me escape from my darkness - but he could also make or break my days.

Zachery Williams.

Before I could register anything else, Zach gripped my hand into his, pulling me out of my bed of slumber. We ran as much as our feet could take us and stopped at a nearby mall.

We swiftly entered the store blending in with the crowd. We made our way to the aisle, and from the looks of Zach’s face, we were in dire need of another disguise. So he grabbed two boxes of hair dye, hats, clothes, and some contact lenses. Just the usual.

Looking at my reflection, I saw yet another face that looked nothing like me. Quite honestly, I don’t even remember the last time I saw the jet-black hair and the deep brown eyed girl I saw every time I passed a mirror. Instead, the hair varied from red, blonde and chestnut brown to the colour eyes of green, blue, or just plain black. I just couldn’t see that girl anymore under all the masks covering her.

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Once Zach and I were ready, we exited the restroom and made our way to the exit of the mall. We safely left the building and followed the sidewalk that lead to the black car with tinted windows. With ease, I slid my hand into the black backpack that hung lazily over my shoulders. I cautiously moulded my hand around the C4 and placed it carefully under the car.

I nodded my head towards the direction of Zach and we then walked away. We had careful eyes on the car making sure Edward would be in it. When we were both a good few hundred meters away and Edward was in the car, Zach clicked the red button that activated the bomb. In a matter of seconds, we heard the explosive breaking the car into millions of pieces, and to my satisfaction, I was pleased.

Because at the end of the day, I’m just trying to kill them all.

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

Kill. Kill. Kill them all.

The voice of the others still imprinted into my mind is as clear as day. I remember the basement holding hundreds of people, I remember them chanting all at once with their hearts going to all of those who walked out to the little whole of light. The fools thoughts they could make it, they thought that they could fight them all off. They thought that the light would bring them freedom - stupid.

But the light wasn’t happiness, it was just the light that lead to their graves. People didn’t know at the time, but deep down I did. I knew we wouldn’t make it, and I knew all we would get out of our uprising was death and pain.

I was right. The very next day, almost all of them died, and I was left alone. All I had with me was the blood of my family that stained my hands and clothes. I cried, I cried so much that it would last a life time. I swore I would end the lives of the people who had brought upon pain unto our home, my home.

Zach, who was covered in dirt and blood at the time too, came along to help me back up on my feet and leave the memories of my moment of weakness. I thanked him, but he just nodded and stood quiet. Even though he never spoke to me until a few months later, he stuck by me and never stopped protecting me.

From that day on, Zach never stopped being the one and only person I truly loved. We had a lot in common, especially the fact that we both wanted revenge for they had done, so we swore to each other that we would bring down those who brought sorrow onto our community.

So we targeted the three that started it all:

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Edward Matthews James Anderson Harold Rhattler

The men that represent human garbage were to be brought down by the wrath of both Zach and me. They have killed millions of innocent people, and I will not stand to live another day to see them still living their lives to the “fullest.”

Their business of using people for their disposal and taking advantage of women of all ages is going to stop. It’ll take time, but I can almost see the end.

Besides, there’s already one down, just two more to go...

A Year Full of Tears Meen Choi Spring 19/3/14

“It’s cancer sir.” says the doctor.

I sigh…taking a deep breath in, I say, “What can I do?”

“The tumor has already grown too big sir, it seems likes you were too late, I’m sorry…”

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My heart skips a beat. It feels as if my heart has fallen down, down and down… into the deep sea, sinking, out of breath, and the waves of anxiety are rushing on top of me…

Slowly… and then all at once!

I’m back home; still paranoid about what to do. I’m utterly clueless. My mind is slowing down. Slowly, running out of battery…

Pain surges through my whole body as I begin to shake uncontrollably. First my hand, flowing down to my arms. Legs. Feet. Every little part of my body is shaking. Black spots start to form in front of my eyes. The black spots get bigger. Expanding and swelling like a sponge soaking up water… then all I can see is a tiny ray of light.

Sudden darkness.

*** My life expectancy is only about 10 months, at the fullest. I take pills every day to help my lungs function properly. Every day, it worries me. My family, and the family company. I have 4 children: Tristy, Chris, Zeth, and Luke. And there’s the only one I can trust - Luke. Luke is the youngest in the family. He always had a great interest in the company and he knows exactly how everything goes in the system. If I were to bequeath the company to any of my children, it would be Luke. But the family promise is that the oldest will inherit the company. My wife, Tristy, Chris then Luke.

I lay down on the hospital bed watching TV. But all that I see and imagine, is my wife. It’s already been 1 month since she left this world.

She was found in a dark alley behind the local supermarket with a small dagger in her throat. There was also a note attached to the dagger. It read: “1 Step closer”...

Summer 20/8/14

It’s a fine day today. Bright weather. I look out the window, waiting for Tristy’s arrival this afternoon. I haven’t seen her for a long time - almost 2 months! Tristy’s been in England for her job lately. She moved there in Spring, right before my wife’s death.

I smile. I’ve missed my only daughter a lot after the murder. She’s the only remaining girl in the family and I don’t want to let her go.

Knock. Knock.

I flinch.

“Tristy is that you?”

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The door slides open.

“No, sir just me”, smiles the nurse.

“Oh… What’s the time now?”

“It’s half past 3.”

That’s unusual… I grab my phone and search up Tristy. Not an existing contact. What is this? I don’t remember her new number when she returned from England…

It’s already 5:30pm and I’m sweating from the anxiety. Where could she be? Luke and Chris are in a meeting and I have no way to contact them. Without further hesitation, I call the Police.

I’m worried sick. I’m getting headaches and the trauma from my wife’s death hits me. It’s already been 2 days since anyone was in contact with her. Buzzzz. Buzzzz. My phone rings. I grab it hoping it’s Tristy. It’s the police officer instead.

My daughter has died.

Her heart stopped.

My heart stops.

Autumn 25/10/14 I’ve been on my bed for the past few months. Terribly ill. 2-3 months left for me. It’s about time to go...

I’ve finally healed and recovered from my heart attack a month ago. I still can’t believe that… Both are gone now. Two members of my family, all girls, dead... And I will be the next one for sure.

There’s something that worries me... The second note that I found on the back of my phone. I found it last summer. I read; “2 already down… Guess who’s third”. I rarely go out of this hospital room. It must be a person that is close to me. Also, it has to be someone who knows my family very well. And it’s obvious that he wants something from me. I run through all the nominees for killers through my head.

Buzzz. My phone rings. A text from Chris, “Dad! How are you? I haven’t visited in while have I? I was going visit tomorrow but I decided to go on a road trip down south along with Luke. Just the two of us.

We’ll be back in a week we’d love to take you but you’ve only just recovered and I don’t want you to go too far with things. Rest and heal well! See you soon.”

***

It’s past a week now, Chris and Luke should be back already but there hasn’t been a reply to any of my texts I sent them.

Knock. Knock. The door slides open.

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It’s Luke. “Oh Luke! Come in, come in. How was the trip? Where’s Chris?”

“Dad… I’m sorry. Chris… He’s… Dead.”

I’m utterly speechless. I couldn’t even say anything. I fall to sudden sleep.

Winter 31/1/15

My last week...

“Sir, you really have to look after yourself. It’s been a while since you last fainted but you could pass out again and that could be forever.”

Luke. The only child left, and he will be the only one left.

The note again… This time I found the note behind my pillow. “You’re leaving them so vulnerable...

One left right?”

A white note with Chris’s blood stains.

“One left…”

LUKE. I have to save him before I die. Every season, one person died. I can’t have me and Luke both die in this season. My most trusted child, Luke. It’s time now that I sign the contract for the company to him. *** “Hey, dad.” Luke comes into the room with a smile and a bottle of wine. I smile back and point to the seat opposite to me. “Have a seat.” Luke sits down, and it’s almost like he knows what I have for him.

“Dad…” Luke mutters.

“I know… it’s time I handed it over to you” “But why me? Are you sure?”

“There’s no one else is there? After all you were the most trustable out of the 4. I feel fortunate that you were the last. Just sign your name here.”

It’s done. Luke will now own the company after I die.

“How about a drink?”

“Sure. The one I brought along?”

I nod my head.

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Luke takes the wine glasses out and gently pours the wine in. He brings them over to where we were sitting and he lays them on the coffee table. I take the first sip. He doesn’t.

“Dad…” I put down the glass of wine. “It’s okay I believe in you…” I smile.

“I don’t know what to say.” Luke puts his hand over his eyes.

I drink more. Forcing the bitter taste of wine down my throat.

“Ha!” Luke shouts out. I jerk in surprise. He continues to laugh. I try to ask him why but my words don’t come out.

I can’t breathe.

I fall to the ground like a tree cut down. Clutching my throat, I slowly lose my vision...

“Stupid as always, Father. You didn’t know anything did you? All the things that happened?” I start to cough up blood. He continues to mock me. “Mum, Tristy and Chris. It was all me! The last note; “One more left.” That was you! The last one I needed to get the company! It’s mine now. Guess you’ve lost everything now…And I have got it.” He cackles like a lunatic.

Helpless as a child; slowly and painfully - I die.

Blackness brings my eyes to failure, then it soaks up my movement, my control, my heart and then my soul.

The clock rings. 1/2/14. It’s Spring now.

Cold Warmth Irene Sung My body starts shaking with anxiety. I open my closet. What do I wear? I need to look appropriate, yet not too showy. We’re hosting a ceremony, and I’ve got to look presentable! As I quickly grab my uniform and tie my hair, I slip my shoes on. Before I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I watch myself dancing with a beautiful, handsome man. Pshh... Like that would ever happen. I breathe in, and then breathe out. The pressure is still there. I walk out to see what’s going on.

“Hey there!” A sweet, but deep voice calls out. I turn around and I see a Winter guy staring into me.

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01/01/2014

His eyes are cold, blue, and misty. He has pale skin that glistens ever so subtly in the sunlight…

He is not too tall nor too short. The colour of his hair is like clear snow, which is somehow attractive. I don’t move. I’ve never talked to a guy like this before. I shiver. His coldness already affects my Summer warmth. The way he looks at me- it’s like I’m trapped in his ever so gorgeous cold stare.

No. No. No! This can’t be happening. I pinch myself. Remember, he’s a Winter guy. Wake up Charlotte!

“Umm what’s your name again? Mine’s-” I cut him off. I can’t know his name, it’s not important!

Without another glance, I run away as my heart pounds. I run back to where I belong, and where everyone looks the same as me- the Summer faction. Factions need to stay with their factions. I take a glance at the Winter faction. They move slowly, yet mysteriously like falling snowflakes.

I can’t explain how cold, but beautiful Winter is...

Beeeeeeeeeeep. The ceremony’s starting. I need to focus. After Summer starts off the ceremony, the Winter leader comes on. I look around stage, and then my eyes catch on the Winter guy.

It’s the guy from before.

“Good morning, I’m the Winter Leader, Logan.” He coldly speaks. Logan. His name bothers me, there is something about him. I don’t know what.

There has got to be something I’m missing. I think and think…

Those eyes. What is it? I got it. Summer 2013, he saved me!

I was outside casually doing my Summer activities, and I vaguely remember falling into a sinkhole. Winter activities include magic and tricks so I knew he somehow wiped the sinkhole away with his hands. It’s so mysterious that I can’t keep up with the Winter faction. The memories wake me up. As I opened my eyes, I saw a gentleman with cold, blue eyes. I remember those words… I go back to the moment.

“I’m Logan.”

That’s it. The person who saved my life, I just completely ran away from him. He’s so charming, but he scares me. I run back to meet Logan. I need to.

“Logan!” I shout. I turn my head from side to side anxiously.

“Hello…” He coldly stares at me.

“I remember now… can we talk for a moment?”

I shake. With no reply, he follows me into the forest.

“What is this Charlotte? Go back to your faction now. I cannot afford to deal with all of this trouble.”

He says firmly.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Logan, why’d you save me? I’m just a helpless summer girl… why’d you do this? Why?” My heart starts pounding. Every beat expanding my curiosity.

“Charlotte. I’ll explain everything later. You need to go back to the Summer faction now, immediately! “

And then, he’s gone before I know it. I follow his instructions. Talking with a person with the opposite gender in a different faction without supervision is an illegal act, and it is against the Faction Law. I run quickly back home.

I sit on my bed, thinking about him. Without hesitation, I stand up and stare at the moonlight.

Suddenly, I hear a whoosh behind me. I hear a voice before I can even turn around.

“Charlotte. I need you to keep a secret...it’s very important.” He stares down into my soul.

“Umm… yeah, okay. “ I shudder.

“I’m not exactly human. I’m immortal, I guess. Well, I am. I lived a very long time ago, and I kind of came to the future. In my previous life, I was in love with someone. That someone was you. “ he deeply explains.

“I’m sorry, what?” I stutter while I shake more than ever.

“At first, I couldn’t recognize you. When I did, I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to let you die.

“His eyes look down. I didn’t know what to say.

“Now, this is a secret. You don’t have to believe me, it’s your choice. But trust me if you want to.

“After he looks at me, he’s gone with another whoosh.

One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps. I couldn’t feel my bones, yet I could feel my heart banging inside me. I shook to sleep.

The next day, I woke up all confused and messy. I put on my Summer uniform and head out the door. The wind through my hair gives me courage, and I need to go find Logan.

“Logan! Logan.” I yell as my words tremble through the breeze.

“Why are you looking for Logan…?” A voice behind me utters. I turn around, and I recognize her face.

Maura.

“N-nothing. It’s none of your business.” I glare at her.

“Don’t play this game with me Char. I know what you’re up to. I know exactly who Logan is. How do you know him? Isn’t he in Winter faction?” She glares back, but with more bravery.

I ignore her, and I start walking away as I look for Logan.

“Listen, Charlotte. You have no idea who you’re walking away from. You’re in danger. I know everything.”

Maura follows me.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Oh god, Maura, just go away. You know nothing”, I spit out.

“Pshh. Looking for Logan? Go find him. See what I can do “, Maura grins.

I don’t want to argue anymore. I need to focus on Logan!

My eyes finally meet Logan’s.

“Charlotte. Please. Don’t get yourself in trouble with Maura. “ Logan seems serious.

“You saw the whole thing? What power does Maura have anyway…It’s not like she can just report me.

She has no evidence, no witnesses and plus she didn’t record or anything- “ Logan cuts me off.

“Charlotte quickly move NOW!” Logan grabs me, but it’s too late.

Maura shot me with ice. I panic, she shot me in the throat. I feel the frozen ice, stabbing me. I gasp for breath, but it slowly breaks down. I fall, and I see Logan. Before I close my eyes, I glance at Maura. She looks fierce, with the cold eyes. Yet, her eyes don’t have the same effect as Logan’s. Wait, is Maura in Winter faction? How does she have a power like that?

Maura must have been a Winter… She must have been a spying on the Summer faction. It’s too late. I see Logan’s eyes becoming warmer. This is it… The time when I die. I feel my spirit, and I see Logan crying. I hear his warm voice.

“Char- charlotte. I love you…” Logan cries.

I cry too. I see Maura walking down the hill, pretending nothing happened. I’m dead.

Logan must have called the police because I hear sirens coming. My cries and yells aren’t heard. The worst part comes- my parents. My heart just sinks when I see them sniffing and bawling. I want to go and hug my mom and dad, but I’m just a spirit. Tears come out, and I don’t like being dead.

“Charlotte?” I hear a whisper, and it sounds like Logan.

“Logan?” I whisper back. “Can you hear me?”

“Char it’s you. It really is you isn’t it!” Logan cries.

“Yes...Yes! It’s me Logan.” I hold him in my arms.

“Charlotte… I’m going to do something that I haven’t even thought of doing before in my life. I know you don’t remember our past life, and you haven’t known me for long. I love you, and that’s all I need you to know.’ Logan explains.

“What? What are you doing?” I shudder.

Logan smiles as his tears drop onto the ground. His eyes are so cold, and so beautiful. His cheeks are so pale, yet so warm. But before I get the chance to look at his whole face, he’s gone.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

Whoosh.

I feel my toes. I look at my hands. People look at me, with their eyes wide open. Then, right beside me, lies a body. Logan’s body. I tremble, and I fall to the ground. Did Logan just give me his life? His immortality? My bones feel flat, and I start to sob.

“Logan? Do you hear me? Why’d you do this? Please! Logan!” I yell. I get no reply. I feel his cold hair, and I feel his soft cheeks.

“Logan! Logan? Logan.” I cry.

“I love you…”

Fighting for my Beliefs Luke Chang The crowd yells with a voice full of anticipation, “GO! GO! GO!” as they cheered on the event.

The horrendous cheers rang in my ears as if the whole world had become corrupted. This event was one of the worst things invented…

“H-hh -help. Someone please help me”, a contestant screamed.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

I could easily recognize this man was not a gladiator. This contestant was an innocent human who fought for his life.

“PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!” The same man screamed again. I had chills down my spine not from his voice, but from the thousands of people cheering to end his life. How did I get here? I slumped down with the gold roman shield barely grasping my hands; slowly falling out. In my other hand, a long steel sword had been black-smithed to make it fit for fighting. In front of me were the gates to the coliseum. I held these weapons as if my life depended upon it. Also, because I was a gladiator, I had to embrace the fact that my body could have been buried at any moment, I enter the arena feeling disgusted. My name was Edgar Markov and I was brought upon this hell for believing in a man that did wonders. The man wanted all the living souls to be saved from their moral sins. I look up to see the fall leaves with their beautiful bright foliage falling towards the soil around me.

“Move it scrump.” The guards raspy voice forced me to move forward. The doors open slowly, as the bright light shined upon me and I asked myself how I ended up here.

I enter the stadium and the announcer speaks: “ LA- L - Ladies and gentleman this round consists of one gladiator who must triumph over ten people. The contestant that survives, will move on to tomorrow’s more intense fight”.

I think to myself ‘Even if I do survive I would go through an even more torturous death...’

I look side to side to see what I am up against - these fake “gladiators”. They have blood red eyes.

Half the contestants had barely any skin and mostly raw bone. Not only were they incredibly bony, their faces were pale like the clear white moon.

If only I could get out and survive this terrible event.

“BEEEGGIIIN”, the announcer shouted with enthusiasm. The gladiators ran limping between each step. I on the other hand, stood tall with the mindset of not wanting to kill. I was not a slave, or a prisoner kept away. I was a human being who believed in the one and almighty: God. I think back to the beginning of when I first had believed in God...

My life was in danger when I saw the unthinkable. It started out as a normal roman day with the beautiful autumn leaves in the trees and a house built from side to side. In the center stood a magnificent water fountain. On top of it was a wild cat; and a blind man who sat with his hands above his head for anyone to help. His entire body was limp; dirt had covered all of his clothes. I looked at my coin pouch too see only a few coins - even I had a hard life to deal with. ‘If only I could help this poor old man... ‘ A white clothed, tall man with long brown hair walked up to the poor man. What I saw next changed my thinking, and made my entire life flip upside down. The blind man was blind no more. The white man held his delicate small hands over the poor man’s filthy, trashed eyes. He whispered something into the poor man’s ears and a moment later the blind man blinked multiple times to see the real world.

The poor man shouted with joy, “I can see!” He jumped back and forth with tears in his eyes as if he was the king of the world. I could not emphasize how pleased he became. To take in the fact that a man who all his life was always blind, to have carried a deadweight with him everywhere he had went, but one day his vision came and to be able to see the absolute real world.

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01/01/2014

‘What has the white man done?’ I paced towards the white man, before he had the slightest chance of walking away. I questioned him.

“How did you do that, sir? Also, who are you?” I inquired of the white man.

The white man responded, “I am the son of God, brought down to teach his ways and to help the troubled from their sins. The blind man was desperate for help, therefore I cured him with the help of God. I had prayed to the lord, to save this innocent man from his hard weight of being blind. This was the least I could do.”

“I wish to know more about God. How can I follow him and learn?”

The son of God explained to me with a vague explanation and taught me how I could follow the Lord, how I could pray for forgiveness, and to ask for help for others around me. The white man spoke with a deep voice, “Pray! Always pray for those around you. Pray for those who are injured, and the ones that need help the most.” ************************************ “Peasant, are you going to fight or stare at the ground?”

A gladiator growled and swung his sword aiming for the center of my head. With quick reflexes, I forced all my weight to sidestep his sudden attack. Right after, I took my mace and went straight for his knees. The gladiator grunted and began falling down. He held his knees as if they were his children; the man was moaning and agonizing from deep pain. I fake the action of killing him, allowing him to live because he was an innocent human being.

I looked throughout the battlefield to see more bloodshed from the other gladiators. I marched forward with my shield up high and my sword right next to me. I crept slowly until two other contestants sprinted towards me, looked as if they were to spill blood. I stood up high and lunged my immense and extensive sword into the scrawny gladiator. The gladiator tumbled immediately to the ground, he then tries to attack but nothing is made of it.

The second gladiator has a robust body, and kicks me back, knocking me off my feet. I cough multiple times trying to catch my breath, and get back up. Immediately, I see the immense gladiator coming after me. I endure the pain gripping my sword and unexpectedly the big gladiator gasps - a spear runs halfway through his body from behind the neck. Glancing down at the big gladiator, I can see the blood rushing down. I see him suffering, having trouble breathing, not able to focus on a thing.

The attacking gladiator, slightly taller than me - scurries towards me. The next thing I know, a sword is touching my neck, but his whispered words strike me harder than any blade.

“Do you believe in God, the One and Almighty? Prove it by saying God’s very own son’s name.”

Shocked by his question, I answer loudly, “I have always believed in God, the name of The Lord, is respectfully known as Jesus.”

“Act dead. No time for questions.”

The gladiator had cut my skin, only for some blood to spill. I followed his orders and pretend to fight back, but fall down in imitation of what he requested. I peek through my eyes and for a few minutes, gladiator after gladiator goes down. I continued to lie down with the hopes and high belief that God was looking over me, as the fight continued. I fell into deep sleep, as an angelic man spoke down towards me.

“My son, take this as your freedom. The man who has just saved you, prayed for his survival as you escaped and remember I will always watch over you.”

I woke up with an awful kick to the back, waking me up from the strange nap. I tried my best not to move, remembering I was still dead. With the surprise, I felt the handle of the sword’s sharp blade at the palm of my hands and gripping it tightly, I bolted up and struck the guard before he could say another word.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

My faith had set me free!

Spring…let’s not!

Jennifer Lee Everyone considers Spring to be a peaceful, joyful and everythingpossibly-positive season. Here’s Lily’s Spring story- do you still think the season is pleasant?

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126

THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

******************* It was a blazing, luminous, rather summery morning and I barely could see anything that was going on outside my window because Cherry Blossom trees were all over outside.

"NO- Please don’t! No!" Again. Ugh. Dad LOVES watching the TV- it gets on my nerves. So many sound effects and music and drama and “bleh!”

“LILY! DON’T- DON’T COME OUTSIDE YOUR ROOM! WHATEVER YOU DO DON’T COME OUT!” Did I ever tell you dad LOVES joking around with me- it gets on my nerves!

Well, maybe JUST IN CASE he attacks me (in a joking way) in my room, I’ll get ready and hide under my bed. You know? Just in case.

It’s kind of uncomfortable, but not too bad. I can handle it. Yet my mum is really lazy so she hasn’t cleaned up in AGES. Dust is choking me through my nostrils. ******************* It’s been at least 20 minutes since I’ve huddled down here and my dad has only been talking to a mysterious- quite unusual voice which I have never heard before... I suppose it’s just a guest.

Yet gradually- no, not swiftly at all, footsteps are coming towards me. High heels maybe? But the thing is... neither Mum OR Dad wear heels.

If that’s the case...

Who is this person?

I peek through a little hole I made under my bed when I was 5. He’s a shadow- a black shadow. 190cm tall. Cigarette scent. A black outfit, and gray cap with a silver chain…

He turns around, looking like he is trying to find someone. Then he turns away 360 degrees and runs back towards my dads’ room. And this time- it happens suddenly.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

I huddle down stops.

What is going This time- it No, it wasn’t

under my bed, breathing heavily and my heartbeat on? wasn’t, no, it wasn’t the TV- it was too resounding. dad’s ‘joking around’- it was too realistic.

I get out from under my bed and take a stretch. I take one step at a time on my tip-toes because I don’t want to get recognized by anyone. You know? Just in case.

I come out of my room, go in dads’...

Ohmygosh.

The same dark figure scans the room, setting his eyes upon me. I am instantly paralyzed with fear. I walk back, step by step, until I meet the wall.

Yet the dark figure stands there for what seems like a long time, and then just hurdles out of our 2nd-floor window. I believe he didn’t need anything from me...

But I believe he DID from dad.

He was shot on the right chest three times. I tried to glimpse if dad could still breathe... Yet I could only notice my dad’s stunning shades of blue in his eyes fading, and his deep brown hair like chocolate covered in blood...

So, every time Spring comes back after the cold of winter, freezing my heart, I remember that one Spring day, that specific day that I will never forget…

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

The Flowers of Despair Bhumika Bhatia I will never forget the day of my 1st marriage anniversary. All those glamorous moments that I spent with Emma: together, as one! And even though it has just been a year... I still recall those memories.

But aren’t memories supposed to be good ones? *** It is a dark, desolate and gloomy evening. I am looking out of the balcony and I can feel the icy wind gusting through the charming trees in the garden: brushing across one another. The wind combined with the rain is so obnoxious that it can blow me away within seconds. My resplendent wife, Emma, is standing right beside me in a bright sea‐green dress all lively and cheerful ‐ for tomorrow.

I stand there for a little while, dreaming and thinking about the necklace I’m going to give her.

I forgot to bring flowers for tomorrow...

***

I couldn’t resist. So I grabbed the umbrella in search of a bouquet of roses. It is quite dark outside, but I rush towards the nearest shop. But they are all closed.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The time is running by. Rain is pouring heavier, and heavier, and heavier. The streets are all damp and the shiver and shudder that I felt is increasing. I cannot find flowers.

Tick, tock, tick tock.

Foolish me. Why today? Why didn’t I just leave yesterday to buy flowers? I know my wife must be worried, but my phone signal isn’t working. This reminds me of the old folk tales, and the rumors that my grandmother told me when I was younger. The power of evil. The power of the hopeless souls…

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

Tick, tock, tick tock.

“Wait!” I scream. There is a man, his face hidden under the dreary dark shadows of the black umbrella, and he stops and turns. He seems mysteriously lost. I think I know him…

His malevolent eyes gave me the impression of a surreptitious connection with my wife. Think...

Tick, tock, tick tock.

“Yes, how may I help you Sir?” “Please don’t take away those flowers, I need some right now. Do you think these fresh flowers will last well till tomorrow? They are beautiful.”

“Yes, of course. They are 20 dollars.”

“Thank you so much, you have made my day.”

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

“No problem sir. Make sure you take this tiny bottle with you, this is a special fragrance that keeps the flower alive. Add the fragrance tomorrow morning.”

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

***

And he left. Something about the way he came up to me sent shivers down my back. I rush back home and sleep a long exhausting sleep.

The glimmering shadow of the sun, lurching behind our massive glooming bungalow, was giving me good dreams and waking me up drowsily. The sparkling bright sun, was telling me that finally my 1st marriage anniversary was going to bring me joyful, gracious and romantic memories in Hawaii… the ones I’ll never forget.

And I never did.

I quickly got up from my bed, took out that special fragrance, and poured it all over the magnificent roses. I dared not smell them first ‐ a perfect symbol of good fortune. I bought the roses for my dearest wife.

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01/01/2014

“Good morning. Happy anniversary!” I said delightfully.

“You too, let’s have an amazing one!”

“Now close your eyes, I have a gift for you!”

She closed her eyes. And smelled the roses. The beautiful, gorgeous, charming roses. And fell backwards.

That was the last I ever saw of her. *** That was exactly 20 years ago. Now what does my life matter to me? Every day! Every day, I shed tears of sorrow, of pain and grief, something no one can EVER pay me back for. I get nightmares every day. Every single day. I change my actions to protect her. That changes my life. But nothing changes. Why? I sit right beside her grave, sobbing. Waiting for life to come back. But it never will. This melancholy feeling that haunts my life will never go away. I will never be able to forgive myself.

I can’t live like this anymore. I will never forget the unknown criminal.

I slowly shut my eyes… I still can’t forget her benevolent smile that struck me the first time I saw her. I have a nice bouquet of flowers right in my hand, the ones we always put on graves.

What are they meant for? Peace? Love? Happiness for a restful time in heaven? But what peace will I get? When the same flowers killed my wife?

But still, slowly and gently, I place them over her grave: The Flowers of Despair.

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THE FOUR SEASONS

01/01/2014

The Key Yoshinaga Kozawa “Err” I Sighed. My ordinary boring day has come to a start again. I got out of the bed and went downstairs to get some breakfast… Oh by the way my name is Erik.

I’m 13 years old and I live in California. Anyway, as I was walking down the stairs, I remembered that it was Saturday. I went back up the stairs to continue sleeping. Just when I was about to go back to sleep, I saw something delightful. The park in front of my house that they were building for ages was finally completed. My eyes were shining the same way that my eyes shine for food. Forgetting that I was in my pajamas, I jumped out of the bed and went outside to see the park. BUT it was not just a normal park… …This park…this is… THE WORST PARK I’VE EVER SEEN!!! It only has a swing, some seesaws and a bench that looks like an old woman who was about to collapse. I was waiting for the builders to finish the park for 6 months, but after all, I expected too much from them. I thought to myself, what have the builders been doing all this time? Were they just too lazy to finish it fast enough? Now, how am I supposed to spend my free time during the whole weekend? As I walked with my head down towards my house, I saw an envelope flying down to my feet. I suspiciously opened it.

Then I saw a very old rusty key and a note which said: “This key must be put inside a hole too big for it and very old. Do not worry, you will be given a fantastic time for once in your whole entire life time, but we cannot ensure that you will not be hurt.

Sincerely, Anonymous” … Something old. Hmmm. I looked everywhere in the park, but could not find anything. I was too interested in what I was doing that I lost track of time. It was 6:30pm. As I stood up from the old ben…! Old bench! I looked and looked and looked everywhere for a hole and finally I found it on the leg of the bench. I tried to place the key inside. Then I felt that the key had hit something hard when I inserted it.

About 3 seconds later, the hole started shrinking and became the shape of the key.

As the shrinking stopped, I turned the key around steadily and suddenly the park started to shake. I held onto the bench. At this time, a person stopped right in front of the park. I looked at her and she wasn’t even shaking at all. She was not even moving. As the shaking stopped, I looked at the park and what a surprise it was!

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01/01/2014

It was SNOWING during the hottest summer recorded in L.A! AND only in the park. As time went by, I was playing and having so much fun in the snow that I wasn’t even bothering to look at my watch. The next time I looked at my clock, it was still 6:30pm. I thought that there had to be something wrong. I pulled the key out of the hole, the ground started shaking again, the watch resumed its work and most surprisingly the snow was all gone as if it was just an imagination.

I ran home to get my dinner.

The next time I inserted the key, there were lots of beautiful cherry blossoms.

The weather felt like it was spring. As time went on, I inserted the key every single day after I got back from school and every time I inserted the key, the seasons were changing in a normal sequence, but just faster. Sooner or later, this magical imagination became my addiction.

After half of the year had passed, I never stopped inserting the key. I started to feel like my bones were getting really weak and felt like my skin was starting to feel invisible. The next day I went to the doctor and he told me that the health conditions of my bones and skin were nowhere near my age. The doctor started asking me if I have been taking any unneeded drugs or any medicines. To all the questions, the doctor asked me, the answer was always no.

This evening, I said to myself, “I don’t want to die young… I haven’t even eaten caviar yet and I’m only 13 years old (almost 14). God please help me.”

I went to the park to think about what had caused my skin and bones to get old. As usual my watch stopped again and I was the only one moving. But it wasn’t very long until I started to feel very dull. Suddenly my legs were paralyzed and my body did not work at all. I crawled down to the bench to get my key out, but before I could even get to it, I collapsed. Sooner or later I couldn’t move at all… … and time never resumed again.

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01/01/2014

Seasons of Life Kiriko Ogawa http://doyouknow.about.feelings.com/Lenoy-reader/

No. Don’t leave me alone…

Kiriko Ogawa

By Lenoy1222

Hello everyone! This is Lenoy and this is the first blog entry I’ve ever written in my whole life!

Okay… Let’s start it now. Do you have a strict mum who only cares about your grades? I have a serious problem with her. This is a true story about me.

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I sighed, as I grabbed my pen rapidly. I was in my room, studying. Why? It’s always me who is lonely. Finally, I couldn’t keep the stress in myself, as I lay on my bed and looked up. Its summer vacation, the time EVERYONE plays and enjoys themselves.

However, I was… Studying! Looking at the plain ceiling…

Why do I have this mum who is so obsessed with Hagwon and homework?

Nothing! Nothing new ever starts.

While thinking about it, I noticed something. It was quiet. I was too focused on my Hagwon homework, I never thought of this. I knew they weren’t here, but I felt guilty.

Should I do it?

But I couldn’t do it. It just wasn’t right. But… But… As I thought about it, my body moved by itself. I slithered out of the window, trying hard not to make any sound.

Ahh, this is what I wanted.

Feeling the wind, I walked through the park as if I was the only one. Suddenly...

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“Oops, I’m so sorry,” gasped a stranger. (Well, I don’t know any single person but he was different). Blushing - I thought, I should have AT LEAST one friend.

“I’m sorry, and do you want to be a friend of mine?” I knew that he would be surprised. But with his beautiful smile like a sunflower, he responded, “Sure! Why not?”

----------------------------------------------------Dear Diary, What if he is trying to trick my daughter? - As a mother, I was terrified by what I just saw. Should I ask someone for a help? Or should I just warn my own daughter and invade her privacy? Too many questions came in my head. I can’t believe she isn’t telling me…

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From that moment, our exciting moments began. It was the summer time, we could do anything we wanted. EXCEPT THAT I HAD TO SNEAK OUT, WHICH I’M REALLY BAD AT. However, I’m pretty sure my parents don’t know.

Swimming, playing in the park, amusement parks, it was my first time doing all that sort of fun stuff…

The first time and the last time!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Dear Diary, I decided that it is the time. It is the time for me to tell Lenoy about safe environments and some situations that can happen to anyone. She should learn about it now.

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01/01/2014

“Lenoy, are you in here?” I say.

“Yes, mother,” she replies. I walk in the room as quickly as possible.

“Lenoy, I have to talk to you about something VERY important. I saw you walking with someone I’ve never seen around here. Is that your boyfriend or something?” I asked straight away.

However, there was no response.

“Why do you need to know? It’s my thing, not yours.”

I couldn’t believe it. “ Why am I the only one who is always alone? Why do I have to be that person? I just need some love. Love from people. I do know that you love me. But… I can’t do this anymore. I realize that you want me to be a sensible person when I grow up. But I don’t need to do this much work. You don’t even know how much I hate it and how I stress about Hagwon.” She responded with a frightened voice.

To that, I could only say, “Okay. Do what you want. But to protect you, I’ll say this.

There are people who think of attacking children”, and I just left…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I didn’t mean to say this. But it just isn’t right. Who would just come up to you and say something which is not even their business? Well, it is but…

I felt so sorry for her that I didn’t tell anything about it. I have no idea what my mother is thinking. Though, it’s not my fault. But now, I’m free. I can do whatever I want without my parents’ permission!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It was cold, snowy period, when most of the people stay home, and stay with their family - with the warm hearted ones. Before I left the house and was preparing for the ‘date’, my mother came up to me and warned me, “Just remember what I said.

Don’t get tricked and get depressed. I won’t do anything about it.”

From that moment when I fought with my mum, I felt uncomfortable staying at home; so I met with him. But, but, I never expected this…

From here, it gets serious.

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As you probably know, I was in love. In love with who? Of course, him. I mean. I never had this feeling before. I have the courage... I have the courage… Thinking that in my head, I went up to him and said this, “Will you go out with me? I’m happy just to be with you, but I will be happier to be your girlfriend.” I thought it was perfect, nothing was wrong. Unfortunately, he responded me with unexpected answer- “I’m sorry, I already have one. I never liked you.” That broke my heart. That one sentence. My mother’s words came up to my mind mysteriously, “I won’t do anything for you about this.”

I ran and ran, until I could run no longer…

-------------------------------------------------------No! Don’t leave me alone…

I went straight into my mother’s chest.

“Mother! I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I love you. I should have I trusted you. So… So… Don’t ditch me.”

I heard my mother sighing and smiling at the same time. And I knew that it was the sign of forgiveness from her.

--------------------------------------------------------Dear Diary, Yes! I did it! I know how the life goes and how to handle this. I went over these problems, too.

But, I also learnt from this. When Lenoy crashed into me, I was very proud of her for solving the problem and relieved. I put pressure on her on purpose. I didn’t mean to say that. I felt sorry for her, but decided not to tell her.

I would never, ever give her too much work to do. Still, I would, a little for the future – I’m pretty sure she will believe me from now on…

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The Cost of Freedom Omar Alkhatib As I slowly drifted ashore, I began investigating the surrounding atmosphere. I lay in front of what seemed to be a jungle…nothing else was in sight.

Food Water Shelter

The most difficult task was to actually get moving because of how much sand has been collected in my clothes. I pick up a long wooden splint from my ship, “Marlow”. Carefully, I aimed it towards a coconut hanging from a tree.

Focusing. As I released it from the palm of my hand, I watched it spin in the air. Straight hit.

It fell to the ground, releasing bits of its nutrients as it tumbled down. I still found myself to be starving. Time to hunt…

The splint I had once used has now become a dull, useless stick. I picked up my pocketknife, which was magically still in place in my belt and struck the end of the splint with the sharp blade of my knife.

I approached the impassable jungle. Hoping to find the slightest hint of wild animals…I climbed onto the top of a branchy tree and jumped onto an unsuspecting wild hog, using all my might, stabbing the end of the spear onto its furry neck. Killing it instantly.

I approached the wreck to pick a piece of flint that once decorated the outside of my ship. Grabbing the knife, I struck the flint across it and little glares of flame dissipated into the atmosphere.

“This will do”.

I approached the tree that I had once climbed, looking for a bird’s nest. I collected all the twigs from the abandoned home.

As night‐time approached, I had already made a fire and consumed all that was left from the hog. I lay close to the fire, absorbing all its heat, gazing at the dark night. Flash backs started running through my head. My name is Dewar Ken… by the age of 11, I watched my own family publically hung by the neck‐ I will take revenge on that unworthy king. Ever since then, I had sailed the deadliest ship in the seven seas, scavenging. Every. Royal. Navy.

The morning light had found its way to pierce into my eyelids. I walk towards my ship and got in reach of my rowboat. Using all the strength that I had left, I dragged myself out of the island’s strong tides. Searching for the nearest civilized island…

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The map that I had held onto from the shipwreck was my only way to find into that scum’s palace. As I approached the entrance into the palace, the royal guards heavily fortified it. Using the dense grass and edges of my sharp blades, I was able to take out two of many guards‐stealthily. Walking hidden in the concealed grass, I was able to eavesdrop on a conversation within a group of guards.

“Today is the day which our king will walk out on his balcony and give out his speech”

I glowered at the colossal palace, focusing on a little opening. Taking out a few more guards, I began climbing the scaly walls of the palace. This was until I climbed on top of the balcony‐hidden by shadows.

I could remember his voice…yelling to push that lever. As he began announcing his speech, I plummeted towards him, feeling the blades slide into his neck.

And although I write this from a prison cell: I! Will! Live! On!

This is the cost of freedom.

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A Season of Fear Michelle Jang It would have never happened, if it wasn’t for my father.

***

University student. With 3 other siblings to look after. With a single father. I’m the eldest in the family. I am responsible to cook and do the laundry for my little brothers and sister. My father is always busy, working for money that could be used to piece together our lives, trying to take care of us, but often, he has no time for us at all.

Years have passed since my mother died. At the age of 42.

What happened to her?

An illness.

Did I know about it?

Of course not. It was one of the most painful diseases. We had to let her go.

No cure and more pain - death was the only solution.

***

Sparkling sunrays are shining in the sky. Yes, it’s summer. These days, even in the morning, the temperature can go up to 30 degrees - I’m starting to miss the days of winter.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

My siblings wake up. I prepare bread and cereal for breakfast, get my youngest sister dressed and walk her to school.

Isn’t it hard to do this every day?

Definitely. But what can I do? I’ve been doing this for several years. It’s a habit to me, now. You would get used to it too.

Another typical day - classes, lunch, classes, and home. From then on, I started my studies and began to prepare dinner.

Ring! Ring!

“Dad?”

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“Yes, I’m home.”

“Are you going to be late again?”

“Where is it? In your closet?”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

I walked up the stairs, and into my father’s room. I began searching in his closet, in his suit’s pocket.

My hands through all his jackets...and there. Found it! A small letter.

Ring! Ring!

“Hello? Yes, it’s me.”

“I found it. Where should I leave it?

“On your desk? Okay.”

I came back down and tried to take a rest. As soon as I started to doze off on the comfortingly soft sofa, I wondered what the letter contained. I mean - it had sparked my curiosity... why would dad have called so urgently, in the middle of his work, to make me find the letter?

What did it say? …

***

I collapsed with fear and shock. My trembling hands let go of the small letter. I could not scream, or cry. This emotion of resentment was spreading throughout my body. A common phrase popped into my mind: Curiosity killed the cat.

***

It was early in the bright morning. Father had not come home yet. I didn’t not go to school, but instead, I decide to head to the offices of his company. It wasn’t hard to find him, as the director of the American Digital Studio.

“I need to ask you something, dad.”

“Why did mom die?”

“Illness? Are you sure?”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home.”

Indignation, enmity and hatred. No more words could surround my thoughts.

Why did I go there?

Why? It’s because I found out the truth.

The truth of what?

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The death of my mother.

What am I planning to do now? …Revenge. Let me reveal to the world what my father had done.

That day, I cut letters from different magazines, and combined them to make one new sentence. There were 7 identical papers, with the same sentence. This was sent to his office, for every person, from the name of my mother.

What was the sentence?

Something fun. You’ll see.

Pale white. That was the color of his face coming in the house. He had seen it - the paper I sent him.

“How was work dad?”

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“Alright, you should go rest.”

That was the reaction I wanted. Anxiety and fear. I snuck up to his room, while he was taking a shower. I opened his suitcase...and there it was, the paper.

Now, tell me the sentence.

“You killed me, MURDERER.”

Next day, I could hear the footsteps coming down, while I was preparing for breakfast. All my siblings have gone to school, and I had waited for my father. His faint face expressed more uneasiness than hundreds of words ever could. Inside of me laughter and satisfaction - my plan had worked. Now, it was time to commence the second phase of my plan.

During classes, I could not concentrate on the tasks given by the professors. My friends continued asking what I was doing, obsessively working on the laptop.

“I’m combining some voice records together.”

“It’s just for an academy homework. No worries.”

“I think I’m fine by myself. Thanks anyway!”

I was prepared for the next stage of revenge.

I headed towards the company of my father. I then knocked on a door which lead towards the Security Systems No reply. I gently opened the door, then locked it. Taking out the USB which had the recording, I then connected it to all the audible screens in the company. I pressed play on the voice record, and a woman’s voice came out.

Whose voice was it?

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My mother.

What did she say?

“I did not die of an illness. I was murdered.”

I instantly left the room, and pretended to walk in the building just then. The building exploded into chaos; gossip and rumors spreading through people like a virus. Everything was running as if I’ve planned a play. At that moment, however, my father called for an explanation, and everything went back to the normal days. The situation I was facing, was not adaptable in my mind. I was stupefied by this hideous man that was once called father; I had to figure out a solution.

***

Tell me what was written on the letter. It said...that my mother...didn’t die because of a disease...but my father...because...he had another woman...and...he lied...all those years...while being the leader of a family…so...my mother couldn’t bear it...and...she…

***

What was my last plan? Make him face the affliction that my mother had to go through!

The only thing I needed for this final mission, was a knife and a paper. On the paper, it was written, “If you feel sorry for your wife, go with her, and beg for forgiveness.” I placed it on top of his office desk, and a knife right next to it. I sneaked out of the office and immediately ran to the Security System room - for the CCTV.

I could see my father coming in the room, but his face was not visible since the light was off.

He held the paper for a few seconds, then the knife. My plan was running smoothly. At that moment, one of his employees came into the room, and he hid it behind him. After the staff left, he put the paper and knife in his locked drawer.

Unbelievable. Right before I headed out of the room, my father started to go somewhere. I continuously focused on the location - the rooftop. He stepped towards the edge, looked down, then up and gone. My father...my father..had just...jumped off...

***

“Has the patient started again?”

“Doctor, I think it’s getting a little serious with her. She’s becoming more murderous with her stories about her parents’ deaths. The way she talks is so bizarre - it feels as if half of her brain asks KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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questions, then the other half replies back! Along with that, her dialogues only contain her words and not the other’s.”

“Every summer she’s like this. It’s freezing outside right now - I can even feel my blood congeal.”

“It’s probably because they both passed away in that season. That’s why she has no sense of the four seasons - only summer.”

“Give her some pills to prevent her from those thoughts.”

“Which pills?”

“The strongest and most dangerous ones. We need to stop her from those stupid stories. Who knows what she’ll do next? She killed her mother, then her father.”

“Why has she become like that? She’s still so young…”

“No one knows. Her mental state is getting worse day by day. It’s because of guilt - she doesn’t want to admit that she murdered both her parents.”

“I’m relieved that someone called our hospital.”

“Something worse could have happened. Now go on, and give her the medicine.”

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The Answer Sebastian Kang There once lived two seasons called Summer and Winter. Both of these seasons were very important, but they were very different from each other. Summer was loving and caring and Winter was ruthless and self-centered. Their gifts were beyond anything and both wanted to prove it. They wanted a competition to show their strengths, until winter thought of an idea.

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. Winter heard a man sprinting, He focused his eyes and saw the man sweating.

Winter had a smirk on his face and knew he had an advantage. Winter decided that, whoever comforts that man walking by would win. After they discussed the competition, Summer agreed.

The man finally stopped and was gasping for air. Winter bellowed “I’ll start first”.

With all his might, Winter blew SO hard. The man’s laces from his trainers had blown away. He was relieved and refreshed, but as seconds went by, the man got so cold. He needed five tissues, just for one sneeze. Summer started laughing so hard that he made a flower below him bloom in one second! Summer was laughing so hard, his tears of joy became waterfalls.

Winter was irate and frenetic. He was so enraged that hail flared out of his puffy nostrils and ears. Wind blew so hard, the trees flew away and you could see the bottom of its delicate roots. The pond at the nearest park froze. Summer was ready and he clenched his body and gave out a warm aura around the man. The little creature was delighted, but as minutes ran by, he started sweating again and started panting like a dog that was trying to catch a ball.

Both of the seasons didn’t understand why the man was uncomfortable and they started fighting for no reason. They were outraged and had no clue what to do.

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The man was exhausted, thirsty and boiling. His tiny body became smaller and smaller, as he walked by the sunset. He was so hot that his sweat that had dropped onto the floor, was like a river.

As time dashed by, a girl came by, she was very beautiful and had eyes like a ruby that had been cleaned a thousand times! Her hair was the colour of milk chocolate and her smile was amazing. She was wearing a swimsuit and she was wet, so it surely meant she had been for a swim. She seemed very brisk and if you looked very conscientiously, you could see her goose bumps blooming like flowers. You could also see her jaws were pulsating. Summer shone upon the girl and she was warm. She was comfortable.

Summer was so happy, he decided to talk to the girl. But he couldn’t talk to her like this. So Summer took a human form and walked to her. The girl looked to her right and smiled at him. Summer was surprised. He smiled back. Than he looked away and blushed. He bought a towel in 0.2 seconds from a local store nearby and he was so fast the girl never knew he was gone. The girl was shivering again, so summer was very manly and rolled the towel over her. She was shocked and said sweetly “Thank you so much”. The smile she made gave summer a sudden heart attack. Very shyly, Summer replied, “No problem”.

Summer was filled was joy and shy at the same time. He made his first move:“My name is Summer”.

The girl smiled and her teeth were so shiny, it could give you a full tan in 1 minute.

She responded “My name is Jewels”.

He thought to himself, “Well that explains everything”.

Jewels wanted to buy summer a coffee for lending her a towel. They sat down at Starbucks and drank there two Americanos with a double shot. Every minute they were together, their friendship became closer and closer. As months passed by, the two fell desperately in love. One time, the two love birds went to the park they first met. Summer said, “Do you remember?”

Jewel replied, “Of course”.

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Jewel came closer and kissed Summer on the lips.

Winter was outraged and inpatient (as usual). He was so furious, you could see the devastation in his eyes. Winter’s rage froze Jewel, her exquisite heart beat stopped.

Summer was heartbroken. His sadness melted the North Pole, so sea levels were rising. All the beautiful plants had died, all the plant eating animals starved.

Years passed and he kept telling himself. “Do you remember?”

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Quattor Tempora (The Four Seasons).

Sophie Rotax Cold, dead eyes stared up at Detective Rose Cain, as she crouched over the body of the young woman who was lying in the snow in the middle of Central Park. The clothes of the dead women were covered in freshly fallen snow, indicating that she had been lying there since late last night.

“Aw, heck!” Rose heard a deep voice say and she smiled to herself. She turned around and found her partner Detective Kevin Ross, standing a couple a feet away from her staring at the body.

“Well, good morning to you too, Detective.” Rose said with a small forced smile. Kevin responded with shooting a glare at her.

“No need for the sarcasm Cain. Is it him again?” Kevin asked looking slightly curious and hesitant. Rose looked back at the young woman again.

“Looks like it. Same MO. Another poem. Here you are”, Rose said as one of the CSU’s handed her an evidence bag containing an aged parchment, splattered with tiny droplets of blood. Kevin eyebrows rose steadily higher as he read the note out loud:

“My dearest Rose, How is your first winter here in the Big Apple? Hope you are enjoying yourself. I guess you have found your Christmas present from me. Enjoy trying to figure this one out. Put that mind of yours to good work.

The Winter Wolves are coming They are drawing ever near The Winter Wolves are coming They smell our blood, our fear

Good luck, my Rose!

Quattuor tempora

Kevin looked up at Rose who stared back at him with a stony expression.

“You know that this sick killer is playing a game with you. Don’t let him get into your head.” Kevin told her with a fatherly tone.

“I know, I know! You told me when the first body arrived. And the one after that. And the other one after that!” Rose responded, annoyed. Kevin held his hands up in surrender.

“Don’t bite my head off, Cain! I’m just looking out for you! You’re still just fresh out of the Academy!”

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Rose had to smile at that. Kevin had stuck with her and supported her ever since these murders had started and the killer had started sending the notes addressed to her.

“Listen Cain. I’m going to talk to Sanders to see if she has gotten any prints off the body.” Kevin told her as trudged past her through the snow to the mortician who was crouching near the body. As Rose turned around and looked across the lake gazing at the skyscrapers of New York and thought back to when they had discovered the first body of the Quattuor Tempora killer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The first body they had found was in Spring. It had also been Rose’s first case after graduating from the Academy, and starting at the 99th Precinct as a homicide detective. Detective Kevin Ross and Rose had made their way to one of the Botanic Gardens in Upper Manhattan. When Rose had seen the body she could barely contain the bile that rose up in her throat.

A young woman had been laid out on the soft, green grass of the Garden. Her stomach had been torn open, all her internal organs had been hacked out and had been replaced by flowers. Tulips, pansies, snowdrops and hellebore were growing out of the hollow stomach. The young woman’s glassy eyes were left wide open. Green orbs stared unblinkingly up into the pale blue sky.

Rose was still staring at the young woman’s body as an officer came over and handed an evidence bag containing an aged parchment. As Kevin read the note, his eyes grew steadily wider as he continued reading it. When he finally looked up at Rose, he said in a too calm voice: “Cain, you know something about this murder or did you know this woman?”

Rose had been completely frozen in shock had shaken her head and responded: “No, sir! I’ve never seen anything like this. Nor have I ever seen this woman.” “Explain this then!” Kevin had stated as he had given her the letter. Rose had stared at him for a moment longer, wondering what in the world was going on and then her eyes had dropped down to the note and she had started to read it:

My dearest Rose, You might not know me, but I know you! I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Ever since you graduated from your High School in L.A. But I must say, NYPD? You are made for greater things. You are far more intelligent than the dimwits that try to solve the easiest of murders. Anyway, since it’s your first case, I thought I would make it special! Every season you will keep getting a body for me and a note attached to it from me to you. The 99th Precinct is not allowed to take you off this case or I will start killing people daily. Here is a little poem to get you in the mood for spring: So many flowers bloom On this day of Spring So many flutes are played So many birds sing On this day of Spring On this day of Spring

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Let the fun begin Rose!

Quattuor tempora

Rose had looked up at Kevin with eyes and had stated with a hint of panic in her voice: “I have no clue what is going on, sir! No clue what he wants with me!”

Kevin had looked at her with understanding in his eyes. Once they had arrived back at the Precinct, Rose had been summoned straight into the Captain’s office where the Captain and the Commissioner had grilled her about her connection to the murder.

After about 5 hours of endless of interrogation, Rose had finally been cleared. It had also been decided that Rose and Kevin would stay on the case. The Mayor of New York didn’t want to take any chances by taking Rose off the case and triggering the killing of dozens of people.

In the 2 months of Spring, Rose and Kevin had come up with nothing. No prints, no leads, no fibres.

Nada. The killer hadn’t left any other clues. So they were on their own. The young woman’s name had been Kristy Bell. All of Kristy’s friends had said that she had been curious, optimistic, friendly and witty.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had discovered the second body a bit into the summer season at the Plaza’s swimming pool. It had been a young man that time that was spending his parents’ money at the most expensive hotel in New York. Rose had made her way to the way to the body with Kevin following close behind her and then she abruptly stopped.

“Ooof! Cain, next time you stop give me some warning, eh!” Kevin had grumbled, annoyed as he had nearly run into Rose. Then he had caught a glimpse of the corpse.

“Ohhhh…drat!” he had stated staring at the body with wide eyes.

The body had been positioned on one of the recliners in the pool and had been entirely burnt to a crisp. The body had been positioned so that the rays of the midday sun could beat down on it. Black, burnt flesh had been falling of the body in small flakes, drifting onto the surface of the water of the pool.

One of the CSU’s had handed Rose an evidence bag containing an aged parchment. Rose had hoped before she had read the note that it would be a different killer, but her hopes had burst into flames as she had started to read the note:

My dearest Rose,

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You still haven’t gotten any leads on poor Kristy’s murder. Tut, tut! I must say, I thought your skills were a bit better than that. But, what can you do? Here is another murder for you to solve. Let’s see if you can spot the connection between the murders and the seasons.

Summer's heat can swelter and melt...

As summer's heat may simmer as weld.

Some summer's heat can burn as long...

This summer's heat can impel a song

Again, good luck, Rose! Let the fun begin!

Quattora Tempora

“Don’t even tell me. I don’t even want to know!” Kevin had stated as Rose had finished the letter and had almost handed it to him.

“Sorry to destroy any possibilities of hope Detective, but it is the same killer!”, Rose had said with a forced smile that had been making itself almost permanent on her face ever since these murders had started.

They had not found any fingerprints, no fibres, nothing on this murder either. The victim’s name had been Luke Crane. He had been the son of one of New York’s elite families. Luke’s friends had said that he had been stubborn, diplomatic, cheerful and practical. Once Rose had heard these personality traits, something in her brain had clicked. These personality traits of Kevin were the personalities of summer. And Katy’s personality traits had reflected spring. The killer had chosen to kill people whose personality reflected the appropriate season.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The third body they had found in an interesting way, to say the least. Rose and Kevin had been called to the local carnival in a part of Central Park. As Rose had asked where the body had been located, one of the officers had just pointed into the maze. On the first bend of the maze, the two detectives had found an open pumpkin with a severed hand in it. Next bend, another pumpkin. It had contained the left foot of the victim. Next bend, new pumpkin, another hand. The fourth pumpkin had contained the right foot. They had finally reached the middle of the maze when they had seen what the killer had left for them. The body of the victim minus the feet had been hung up like a scarecrow and an axe had been embedded into its head.

That time Rose couldn’t contain the bile that had risen up her throat. As she had finished retching up her breakfast, Kevin had handed her another note in an evidence bag. Rose had started to read it immediately:

Dear Rose, KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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Happy Halloween!! Hope you liked my little treasure hunt for you. Let’s not focus on the now, think back to summer. You finally figured out the connection between the victims and the seasons. I must say your murder board at the precinct is most impressive. Let’s see if you can catch me after this murder.

Trick-or-Treat is all you hear, Kids running around yelling "look what I got!"

Ghosts yell "Boo! I scared you!"

Teens scaring little kids by saying, "They're gonna get you."

Again, good luck, Rose! Let the fun begin!

Quattora Tempora

Rose had looked up and stated: “He’s been at the precinct. He’s seen our murder boards. He was under our noses!” Kevin had stared at her with wide eyes for a moment and then began to swear his head off.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even after months and months of searching, they still hadn’t found anything. Another body, another note. Rose took a deep breath in and opened her eyes.

“Ok,” she whispered smiling darkly, “let the fun begin, but we’re playing by my rules now!” With that she turned around and made her way back to the body. Snow was falling behind her. Wind was whistling around her.

She didn’t notice the set of emerald eyes that watched her from across the lake - hidden behind the trees.

“Quattour Tempora, Rose. Quattour Tempora… your time is coming too!”

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The Ball Alex Dohun Kim His parents were killed in a car accident when he was only five. The little boy was the sole survivor and was left as an orphan, only to be raised by a kindly neighbour.

There is not much more to say.

Almost ten years later, the boy was walking through the park silently after his day at school, kicking his white, bouncy ball with him. The ball, rolling vigorously and innocently, glided across the grass, like a happy child dancing in the crisp, sunny day of spring.

It was then when the dog approached. Wagging his tail, he picked the ball up with his mouth, and offered it to the boy. The boy smiled. He stroke the dog’s head, seeming glad with new company.

The neighbour soon moved away. The boy, now almost a man, had received a job in one of the nearby towns. He bought a house there, and made a good living out of what he had.

After work, he spent all his time with his dog, playing games and watching movies with him. Whenever the dog made a mess, he criticized him by tapping his head two or three times, but soon gave up just to give him a gentle stroke across his back.

What could have been more perfect? A boy and a dog.

But he was exposed to other things. He found drugs, alcohol, and tobacco. He found friends. He found love.

The man soon began to spend less time with his dog. Half the time he used to spend at home was now spent at bars and parties.

And it wasn’t long until he met her.

Now the dog was left alone all day long. He wandered around, glanced at the window once in a while, and sat on the couch all day long. When he was hungry, he allowed himself to fall down from the couch (as joints began forming in his legs) and effortlessly walk to the kitchen for the three plates filled with dog food.

But his appetite was gone long ago.

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He tried looking for new things outside the house. He tried jumping with the butterflies, and watched countless numbers of cars and people pass by.

But his joy had gone long ago.

And with little hope, he sat waiting for a man in blue overalls. When the man was finally visible, the dog immediately rose up, and fiercely wagged its tail, although it was very late into the night.

But he was only acknowledged with a pat on the head.

The man’s relationship did not end well. Despite his several efforts to meet up with her again, they all turned out to be fruitless. And so he was overcome by wrath and misery.

It was that one day when the three plates did not contain any dog food. All that was left were small morsels from yesterday. The man had left to work, and the dog was completely forgotten.

The dog started to look much older than it really was. Its skin sagged even harder, and its rib cage was clearly visible. And without food, he was not even able to stand up properly.

When the next day approached, the man, seeming entirely frustrated and anguished, stomped to his doorstep again for work. But this time, a creature lay in his path, with a plate in front of him. The creature looked up, and managed to give a soft bark.

But the response was not what the dog expected. Annoyed by the sudden disturbance, the man kicked his once beloved pet across the floor and left without a word.

The dog lay down feebly on the cold floor. Struggling to breathe, it began to whimper for the pleasant times of the past. And amongst his tears, he saw the white ball just a few feet from him. With all the might that was left inside him, he pulled himself, and grabbed it with his mouth.

The dog started bleeding from his mouth. His heart, filled with sorrow had given up. And so did his eyes.

The man returned later that day. Half- drunk with alcohol, he entered the house and went to bed without even turning the lights on.

The next morning, he found his once beloved pet, quietly lying dead at the corner of his living room. The man slowly approached the corpse, and detected a red ball at

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its mouth. He noticed it was the white, bouncy ball of his childhood, but now covered with blood.

Tears began to drop from the man’s eyes. Struck by the memories of the past and the creature’s existence, the man helplessly dropped down and began wailing for his dead pet. There is not much more to say.

The dog was buried next to the house. With it, the red ball softly lay next to the dog, like an old man dying in the crisp, sunny day of spring.

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Asleep for Four Seasons Christina Yoo Tick... tock… tick... tock…Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Anna: (annoyed voice) Mom can you please get rid of that old junk?

Mom: Anna… it’s from your dad…

Anna: Mom I am now 10 years old and never remembered anyone considered “dad” except for the fact that “he” abused you and disappeared. He died 4 years ago! June 13th… I still remember; can you just please forget about him? I am more mature than what people think of me.

(Bang! Anna slams the door and runs out of the house, away from the irritating sound) Mom: No Anna! She told me that it was going to be a dangerous day today…! (a soft breeze blows along the blue sky.)

Whoooosh

Anna: I lay in the middle of the park, thinking that I sometimes prefer talking to myself instead of others… maybe I’m just bizarre, but with weather like today, with the blue sky, green grass, soft spring breeze and butterflies flying over my head. It’s way better to spend time here than just a 3 floored house with only my mom and I in it. (She gently sniffs the spring breeze and enjoys the moment)

Let me introduce myself to you. I am Anna Dulkrone and I am 10 years old. People say I am just like Matilda. I have a brain that no ten year old should have. I know and understand more things than what I’m supposed to know... but it’s not my fault… it’s my grandmothers...

My mom has gone totally strange after she divorced my dad. No, it’s not my dad—he is a monster.

I still can't believe what I had seen 4 years ago. My dad abused my mom, but others say that he wasn't actually my dad, in fact a soul of the dead. That is something I am not supposed to know, so here’s the secret you need to keep with me.

My grandmother is a shaman (a person regarded as having access to, and influence in, the world of good and evil spirits). She is powerful enough to control the deadly ghosts. I heard her talking to my grandfather about herself. I have never actually seen him before and he had abused grandma the same way my mom was abused, because of the same reason. This is what hypnotized my grandmother to live away from him… which was pretty much what we did.

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This chaos started when my dad brought a cuckoo clock home when I was just 24 months old. I think it was from the garbage bin, but the clock was cursed. I currently know what kind of curse the clock has.

I am not allowed to tell you... because there’s something I am really afraid about that’s related with the sound of the clock. It’s kind of the reason why I hate the sound of clocks... it doesn't tick regularly, but there seems to be no problem once I go to check it.

Strangely, I am outside alone… but I hear the sound of the clock ticking… seriously… I must be tired.

(Anna’s eyelids slowly drops down, the white butterfly gently flies away. Meanwhile, the wind strongly begins to blow as if the world has known something it never should.)

Swoosh! Wooooo bang…

(It starts to rain heavily, pouring as if God is extremely angry)

Scene change

While Anna’s mother is at home…

Mom: Oh God. This isn’t good. It’s the day. Today is the day! June 13th…

(Runs back to check the calendar) This is terrible.

(Pointing to the box with the number 13...bold in red).

Another fourth year… June 13th… Friday… this has to be a lie!

(Anna’s mom is very conscious about what is happening. She runs up to the third floor that had been locked for the past four years. She quickly drops down on her two fragile knees and starts rubbing her two hands, as if she has to be forgiven.)

Scene Change

(While Anna’s mother begins to panic, the wind outside blows even stronger but the body of Anna doesn't seem to move. 2 strangers carefully walk by)

Stranger 1: Is that a girl?

Stranger 2: Did she faint? We have to call the ambulance!

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Anna: No! Wait…I am opening my eyes! I can move as well! What is happening to me?

(Although Anna is screaming with all the energy she has, not a single word is spoken)

Anna: I am now in the hospital. I can see everything, I can hear everything. I can smell everything. The doctor says that I am in a coma...but why? I feel perfectly fine while all of this is happening… I still hear the cuckoo clock… I think it’s time to tell you now. I trust you enough to keep my secret safe.

I think the ticking of the cuckoo clock is the rate of my heartbeat.

I know this is totally crazy… What did I do wrong?

July 28th 2014

It’s Summer now. I really want to see the beautiful flowers and the evergreen trees in my park. I miss my house -where the cuckoo bird pops out… and the ticking of it. I am still at the hospital, lying in bed.

People don't bother to come and see me because they think I’m in a “coma.”

I feel abandoned and alone.

October 16th 2014

It’s Fall… my favourite season. I’m now eager to jump out of this hospital bed. This is completely useless. I don't need any of this because I’m totally fine! I am alive!

Most of the flowers and trees have faded away from my surroundings. They are now thinking of kicking me out of the hospital since I’ve been here for too long. I am definitely worried…

It’s crazy. It feels like a dream. It feels like I am living in two different worlds… one where I can see everything going around and the other that makes me walk a path of no ends.

I am not receiving any good feelings about this.

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There is exactly 48 hours left until I am cremated. The clock ticks very slowly… I don't know if I’m the only one who feels like this. But… it’s just fading away! I even feel like the cuckoo clock is leaving me.

I’m sick of this whole thing. Is this a dream? I hope someone comes to save me.

As I am am heading towards winter with my bare feet, I see something cold… perhaps a white gown?

What is this…?

I am alive.

Doctor: Nurse! Nurse! Patient bed 34 Anna Dulkrone 14 years old seems to be conscious now!

(He checks the pulse of Anna)

Anna: This is a miracle. They have finally realized that I was awake!

But… I feel an extremely cold breeze… right. It’s just Winter…

Tick..tock….tick………..tock….tick…..to-

Anna: The clock has just stopped.

I see nothing else but a pitch dark room.

I miss the sound… I miss the light that used to shine towards me…

I now see nothing. It’s cold… like the cold breeze of heaven. (screen blacks out)

This, this, was the longest dream I have ever had… I was asleep for four seasons.

I am so glad to be back home. No. I was home for the whole entire time. It’s just that I was asleep for...wait is it winter? Was this a dream? I am barefoot, dressed in a white gown…

I am walking. Automatically. Where am I going…?

Heaven…? (The path ends and a pitch dark room begins to have a spot of light)

Tick…tock…tick…t-

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Silence!

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A Fate: Twisted Henk Jan de Boer It was silent. Only the wind blowing through the dense bushes made the slightest of sounds. A pebble, lying on the dry ground, started vibrating. The pebble’s identical partners copied this behaviour and a soft sound of bouncing pebbles emerged...

Suddenly, a soft continuous beat made a rhythm on the water forsaken ground. Then it changed into a louder beat like a drum being beaten. The sound of ruffling bushes suddenly appeared. Something was near. Suddenly, you could hear stomping while a wild boar with a grown man balancing on its back leaped out of thick bushes.

The rider’s feet were brown and covered in mud with veins sticking out of them. On his left foot a scar which rose up to his shin was clearly visible. His calves were covered in muscle and you could see that he was a hunter. His thighs and waist were covered by a forest, green leather type of shorts which carried a giant knife, water sack and a long rope. His wide shoulders carried a long bow with a quiver stocked with 24 sharpened arrows. His arms were strong, short and on his right lower arm a leather patch covered a throwing knife. His head was round, his lips thin, big ears, pointed nose and his eyes were dark brown covered with shade from his eyebrows, and what you could see from him, you would estimate that he was about 14 years old. His long, brown, braided hair had feathers stuck on them which moved from right to left together with the beat of the hooves. His cheeks were covered with brown stripes like a typical Iroquois Indian would have.

He looked back at the white men who were following him.

The rider was standing on the boar’s back ready to jump off. He bent down, and released. He jumped into the thick jungle while grabbing onto a long branch. He used the vine to swing himself into a tall tree. He ran through the trees, on the thick branches. He ran faster as a cliff appeared. There was a 20 metre gap in between with a waterfall and raging river right below. He leaped and did a backflip while using his feet to grab onto his branch and swing onto a branch 2 metres above him. He sprinted while balancing on the branch and leaped as he made a front-flip and landed on the ground. He turned backwards while firing an arrow which took less than a second.

He faced forward again, whistling a high pitched note. Suddenly, out from behind a rock, a brown stallion appeared. It was completely wild with no cut mane or saddle. He leaped on the muscled back while the horse started running in a southern direction. He looked back one last time. They were gone…

“They’re back…” the hunter said to the horse who whinnied as a reply.

“They promised. They lied, winter and hatred will conquer these lands. No happiness will be found, and the tribes will have to separate from each other. Nothing will be left here, only an eternal KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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winter.”

“We need to warn them, warn them that the white men are coming…” he decided.

-

The fast pace of rats scurrying along the creaking woods made the only sound at night. The silent swaying of the ship on the never ending waves lasted forever. The bright moon shining on the wooden deck outlined the rooting from the salty sea water. The night was silent, only a few men were awake.

Only a few men who had seen the land, the new land.

I woke up this morning on the San Miguel, a typical Galleon carrying typical conquistadors, by the sound of a loud trumpet. I woke up from my hammock and stretched my shoulders.

“Wake up!” a man with a barbed whip walked across the lower deck, threatening anybody who stayed asleep.

I sat up opening my trunk and putting on my kit.

“Pedro!”

I turn around to see who called me. It was Carlos, a good friend of mine.

“Yes?” I replied while putting on my boots.

“Have you seen the land, its-” “Land?” I recall, getting excited, we had been out at sea for months, almost years now.

“Yes, we arrived, it is an eternal dream, beautiful land, shining gold and delicious coconuts too!” he winked.

I changed as quickly as possible and climbed up the stairs. Everybody was looking forward. I looked the same way and I saw green mountains, palm trees, clean, light blue ocean, just like summer, an eternal summer. Giant birds were circling around in the sky and the howling of wolves and the scurrying of prey illuminated the land.

An hour later, the Captain started shouting orders to take out the wooden rowboats. I jumped in one of them next to my colleagues. We rowed up until the shore and helped the other arriving boats which went ashore after us. We were told to follow the route on the map going into the land. A camp was set up there. We walked through the dense jungle with the others for days until the jungle became a temperate forest.

“Follow him!” our leader of the squadron bellowed. I order my horse into a galloping pace following the other 5 soldiers. I had no idea where we were going until I looked back and saw our general on the ground, dying - an arrow in his neck. I continued running, hunting down something… an Indian. The rest of the army marched on as we track the Indian.

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The thick forest leaves and bushes washed into my face. The clouds start rumbling as thunder can be heard and the darkness starts to arrive. After a few hours of tracking we decide to set up camp in a dense area where a circle of grass appeared with the bushes as its circumference.

“I never imagined it like this…” Santios says.

“I thought it would be a beautiful place, full of gold and treasure-” “But it isn’t!” I interrupted.

“It’s a nightmare like the coldest winter…”

-

If I survive, if I escape from these white men, I can change this, change it back to what it was. The soil always revives itself. Nature will bring back its former glory, it will be summer.

-

Our general is dead, we’ve lost the rest of the army. We’re losing the Indian rider and hope is almost lost…

And soon it will be winter.

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Old Friends Josefine Vibe Hansen It was a crisp winter morning. The air chilled my skin and dried my lips. I took a deep breath, as I pressed my index and middle finger to my mouth, exhaled and pretended to be smoking. That was the most amusing thing to do during the winter. The rest of winter was just an agonising three months of illness, horrid weather and numerous layers of clothing.

I was in the park, taking a walk after in-taking a large amount of yelling and persecution from my mother.

My whole body was shaking: partly from the cold, partly from the fear of going back home and being screamed at some more. I remember my mother telling me to move out the house, that she didn’t want to see me anymore. Those harsh, menacing words she said, kept flashing back into my mind, unable to go away. It was just so dark. So threatening. So unmotherly to say.

I walked a little further down the cold surface of the asphalt.

I should probably go home.

If I did go home, I would just have to leave again. Where would I go? I had no friends since I dropped out of high school. At least, no one who understood me well enough to be classified as a friend. The last close friend I had was in fifth grade. His name was Michael, I recall. We were so close, but then he had to move to some island on the coast of the state we lived in. I hadn’t spoken to him in years. The last time I saw him was in the summer of 2002, when we both went to that waterpark together. That was the summer he had to move. I remember bawling my eyes out by the end of that day. He gave me his new home phone number, although, as yet I had never thought of calling him.

During that amazing summer, we also made a secret language so that we could communicate on a different level - a code. It was based on taps. Almost like morse code, but our own version of it. It wasn’t that difficult. We only came up with the basics: hello, how are you, goodbye and help. We used ‘help’ most often - three sharp taps, all spaced within 2 seconds of each other. We used it most often because it seemed to be the most necessary when we were over at each other’s house and wanted to play ‘lost’: a game where one person pretends to be lost in the house while the other tries to find them.

I slowly turned my body around and made my way back home, dragging my feet on the sidewalk. By the time I reached home, my mother was sitting on the couch, tapping her foot vigorously from anger. I decided not to talk, I just walked up the stairs to my room and collapsed on the bed. It was too early to decide what to do next. I was really tired and groggy and the walk didn’t help.

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After a few hours of ice cold sleep, I decided to maybe call up Michael again. The comforting sound of a friendly, familiar voice might cheer me up. I opened my drawer (where I last saw that piece of paper with Michael’s number on it), stuck my hand in and felt the bottom on the drawer for the paper. After a brief moment of ungratification, I finally found the paper, brought it to my eyes and I looked at Michael's old handwriting. The messy hand writing of an 11 year old boy. It brought me a slight smile. I dismissed the brief moment of nostalgia, picked up the phone and typed the number on the paper.

Three slight buzzes from the phone… someone picks up. All I could hear at that moment was heavy breathing. No ‘hello’, no ‘who is this?’, not even a ‘may I help you?’. Just breathing. It was uncanny and it overwhelmed me, but I finally manage to cough out a “hello?”. “I’m sorry, this number is restricted,” The voice within the phone told me off.

My face tensed up. The voice was not recognizable.

“Michael, is that you?”

No answer; just more heavy breathing.

“It’s me, your best friend from elementary school,” The heavy breathing stopped suddenly.

“Uhm… hey! Yeah, It’s Michael.” I could hear Michael reply, though his voice sounded a little off the edge.

“Hey what’s going on? Listen, I know I haven’t seen you in a while, but could I maybe come visit you for a couple days? I just gotta figure some stuff out,” “It’s not really a good time to be asking to stay,” He replied, sounding less than enthusiastic.

“It would only be for a week or so, just so I can find somewhere else to stay.” I persisted.

“I… I’d have to ask. Be right back.”

Yet more heavy breathing, like he didn’t even put down the phone to go ask his parents. This goes on for about a minute…

“Are you there?” I ask.

He then goes on to pretend to talk to someone in the background.

“Yeah hey, they said you could come.”

My face lights up, “Great! Thanks! So, how would I get to the island?” I ask.

“I’ll come pick you up,” “Do you still know where I live?”

“Yeah...”

“Uh okay, maybe you could come around tomorrow?”

“How about I come around today?”

“Really? That would be great! Should I bring money for a ticket, or what?”

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“It’s fine, just bring yourself and your luggage,”

❄❄❄

Sitting on the curb of the road with my packed suitcase, I eagerly await for Michael. I had never thought of what he might look like today. He always liked sports so maybe he’ll be muscular. He was always very tall, maybe he still will be. Or maybe he would be nothing like he used to be. Just like when we spoke on the phone, he spoke in a different way than he used to. His voice sounded the same, but he just spoke differently. I had almost forgotten about that odd phone call. The odd amounts of heavy breathing and the “this is a restricted number” thing. All very peculiar. I shake the thought out of my head and continue to sit on the curb, waiting to see my old friend again.

❄❄❄

Michael didn’t show up that day.

❄❄❄

When I went back to my parents’ house I tried calling him again. It was strange, instead of having to wait for buzz after buzz after buzz, when pressed his number in, someone picked it up and then automatically hung up.

Like Michael was sitting by the phone all day, waiting to hang up on me. Maybe he didn’t want to see me after all.

The next day the phone rang. The caller ID on my phone said it came from Michael’s number, the one on the paper. I decide not to answer it, but the ringing didn’t stop after a couple of rings and no one answered. It must have been at least 5 minutes - but it stopped. A few more minutes passed and the phone rang again. It was Michael’s number. I answered, not knowing what I would say to him. Heavy Breathing. Nothing but more heavy breathing.

“Hello?” I ask after endless amounts of breathing.

“Is it you again? Sorry I didn’t come and pick you up, I was a little tied up,” My heart beats faster as I realize it’s definitely not Michael. Not the man I spoke to yesterday, not the man I’m speaking to now. I try and play along.

“I… It’s fine, I understand. I won’t be needing a new place to stay after all. Thanks though… Bye,” I was about to hang up when I hear him continue to speak.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to forget to pick you up. I can still come.”

Why was this man pretending to be Michael? Where is the real Michael? My heart rate continued to beat faster and faster as questions fill my mind.

“It’s fine, I don’t want to trouble you,” “Are you sure?” The man voice becomes increasingly more deep, cracked and intense.

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He continues to reassure me that he would come pick me up, when I heard three sharp taps. Three sharp taps coming from the background of his end of the phone - all spaced within 2 seconds of each other. It was one of the codes Michael and I came up with while we were kids.

The code for “Help!”

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We Are Dead Taewon Kwon We are dead.

That’s what they think and that’s what we want them to think.

We don’t exist on this planet, and no one knows about us.

This is better because, no one suspects the dead.

No one suspects the dead, and that’s why they can never catch us.

We are dead.

This is why, two years ago, we were working our normal job: Mark, John and I. It was much harder when we were alive. Always avoiding cameras, CCTVs, and other suspicious eyes. We had to do our job, and get as far as possible. There used to be three of us before the incident. John. He was caught, because of us. He died because of us. He lived because of us.

We are dead.

What is death anyway? Is it not just a way to get out of this horrible place? Is there anything more to death? Sometimes I think and consider what it would like to live. To die. To live, is to die and to die is to live. So why are we not dying? Well, our job is very very strict about us killing ourselves. Our job doesn’t let us live.

We are dead.

Maybe you think otherwise. Maybe you think life is worth living. Maybe, just maybe, you are right. If we can get out of this job. Maybe we can live. Living for real would be nice. Great actually. Settling in, having…”

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The screen flickered off. I drew my Walther, Model PPK in 2.3 seconds with bewildered eyes and scanned the room. It was so dark, it took 3.6 seconds for my trained eyes to register the surroundings.

Everything was the same. The trap silk was still hung invisibly from the door to the sink. There was nothing wrong about the room. My glasses did not catch any thermal movement in the room. I held my breath and lowered my position for exactly 85 seconds. I swiftly got back up and looked at the monitor.

It was so good to see Ryan. He sounded exactly the same. Even though his face was disguised, I could tell from the one of the many voices he has. He was using his Russian voice, which he uses often in Moscow. He must be in Poslannikov Street Side 18 bld 1 Moscow, Russia, 117186. I grinned. He must have been in a hurry, because he didn’t cover up his surroundings well. I could tell how a Golden Eagle .5 was on his belt. Maybe a silencer, but I couldn’t tell. If he has a 0.5, he must be have some tough objective. ‘Don’t think about it,’ I tell myself. But there was no way to not think about it. The way he talks, no one would notice but me. Even though his voice was smooth, I could tell that he was in a hurry. Why? I do not know. Even though I could not see Mark, I knew that he was in trouble. Also, the way he says our names… that was very unlike him. Our identities were never mentioned. Now that I think more about it, the weirder it seemed. We don’t call each other’s names, even though we think we are alone. Only in the safe-houses do we say each other’s names. I then had a horrible feeling.

It is not possible. We have been the best at keeping identities, and it couldn’t have been that it is now exposed. Wait. Ryan was the strictest one about identities. He would not say any of our real names, not in front of a camera. Unless…

A cold metal pressed onto my throat.

A harsh voice, faked for sure, croaked, “Move and you die.”

I have been in many situations like this, but this was different. His body covered me like a boulder, his hot breath was on my ear. He was in a position I have never felt before. It was like he knew my usual ways to counter this situation. But that’s

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impossible. Not to boast, but anyone who messed with me had been killed. A stream of panic drifted into my heart. I have to think. I have to think now.

My gun is on the table, about 30 cm away. If this guy is a trained one, like me, he will not hesitate to put that knife in my throat. I am just a tool that may be used or not.

So I ask him in a whisper, “Am I your target?” I know that I am not. But I say that because I need time to think. Also, I need to know how good he is. If he is well trained, he would not say anything. If he is new to this business, he would answer.

But, if he’s very experienced, he will just kill me. I counted 4.5 seconds, when someone said, “Hi.” My legs buckled under me. Not because of what he says, it’s because of his voice.

It was Ryan’s real voice. He repeated, “Hi John.” He looked tired. What surprised me was that he did not have a disguise on him. I could see that he was poorly treated in the last couple of days. I knew that he also had no guns. From the way he walked, there was nothing that was buckled on his belt. That meant, this metal on my throat, is…

I put my hand up, and removed the metal from my throat. Mark croaked, “Hey John.”

He put his butter knife down, and looked guiltily at me.

“Sorry about the threats, didn’t mean to get you on your toes.”

I had counted 7.3 seconds, while backing off to the table. Then, in 1.8 seconds, I grabbed my handgun, loaded it, and pointed at Mark, because he was closer to me.

They could not hide the surprise when I pointed the gun at Mark. They both said “woah”. Then Ryan gained himself again, “John, calm down. We have nothing against you.” He spoke this in a very calmly, and grinned.

“Nice to see you again, brother,” he continued, “Wondering why we’re here, yes?”

I listened, and kept pointing my gun at Mark. “Well, I can explain to you. See, it’s a new assignment. And it involves you.”

He let it sink into me and I counted 2 seconds until I shot my 0.7 bullets into Mark’s shoulders. I heard the bullet digging into the flesh, and the sudden pain show up on Mark’s face. I tried to stay focused. There was no blood, which means that I got the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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right spot. Just between the bones, avoiding the major veins. I sighed with relief in the inside, but didn’t show it on my face. I ignored Mark kneeling and moaning, and turned to Ryan. His friendly face was gone, and he had his business face on.

“Fine. You can shoot both of us, and kill us. But you know they won’t stop. You know. So quit acting so tough, and listen for a second,” Ryan snarled. “We’re not here for our normal job. We need you in the safe-house by next Thursday. Wolf wants to see you.”

I froze at the sound of that name. Wolf.

“He’s dead,” I managed to say, uncertainly, “We-” Ryan cut me off with a cough.

“Just come, ok?” He said in a hurry, pointing to his tie. Of course. How could I be so stupid? Obviously he came with a mike on, to record and see the situation.

“Fine, I’ll be there.” I say, partly because I meant it and partly because there was a mike.

“Good,” Ryan answered. He was picking up Mark, whose face was in agony. He still smiled at me. As they were heading out the door, Ryan threw a piece of paper at my way.

“That’s Mark’s bank account. Hospital fee bro.” With a friendly smirk, they walked out, into the crispy air illuminated by the glow of the bright moon.

I take in a deep breath and look at my gleaming pistol.

I am ready.

Ready to be dead again.

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A Fate That Brought Us Back Together Amanda Bang Her angel-like singing… I wanted to hear it again! I wanted to hear the voice of the girl from the beach at summer about 6 years ago. Her name was… actually I don’t remember, except for the fact I had nicknamed her “Spring”. It had been six years ago, a long time, but I remembered her voice like it was yesterday. I’ve seen her in my dreams lately. A lot! Along with the song she sang when we first met each other. But now, I didn’t even know if she was alive. We would have known each other so well if that accident didn’t happen. We wouldn’t have been separated. We would have been so close…

Every time I sing, I remember him. It always reminded me of when we played at the beach. Every time I sing, I could see his raven black hair flowing in the wind of the sea. “Summer”. That was what he nicknamed himself. And I was “Spring”. It’s already been six years, a long time, but I hadn’t forgotten him at all. I remember every single thing about him. But does he remember me? Wait… Is he even alive? He did try to protect me. If that accident didn’t happen… We would have been so close.

----------------------------------------6 years ago----------------------------------------

“Natsu, make sure you come back to this part of the beach before sunset,” his mom said, a bit worried.

“Okay. The park is only across the street, so don’t worry,” he replied as he started to walk to the park.

He crossed the street into the park. The park is really green, but not that pretty, Natsu thought. He just kept walking until he heard a sound- a beautiful singing voice that lightened his heart like sun in the springtime. He tip- toed to where the sound was coming from. It was off the path of the park, and trees surrounded the place, so it wasn’t an easy place to find unless you heard something from there.

Unlike other places of the park, it was beautiful. Lilies, daisies, and other wild flowers covered the place. Hiding behind a tree, he looked at the girl who was singing. She looked about Natsu’s age, but she was a bit shorter than him. She had white, platinum blonde hair, tied into pigtails. She looked gorgeous in Natsu’s eyes. He started to listen to the lyrics of the song she was singing. It went like this:

The sunshine is bright, and the sky is clear It’s humid and hot, but it does feel great People are heading to beaches, eating ice- cream So it must be summer

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Kids are out of school, and going to vacation It feels like the best time of the year So it must be summer

While singing, the girl realized that a boy had been spying on her, so she decided to quietly sneak up on him. Mesmerized by the girl’s singing, he didn’t realize that a girl was sneaking up on her.

“Boo!” she shouted playfully at a black haired, Japanese boy.

Natsu fell back in surprise.

“Hey, you scared me!”

This is when he realised how pretty and cute this girl was. She was wearing a pink dress with white flower prints. His face started to turn a bit red.

“Well, you were the one that was spying on me!” the girl said, pouting her mouth. She looked like a cute duck.

“That’s because… because your singing was pretty!” he said, as red as a tomato. His heart was beating fast, but he didn’t know why.

“Thank you,” the girl said in delight, but also blushing as well. “Who are you? What are you doing here?

No one came by the past two days!”

“Well, I came here since I was bored. And can we use nicknames? My parents said not to tell my name to strangers. So mine would be Summer,” he said, thinking hopefully that she’ll understand. The real reason why he said that was in his whole life, kids his age always had teased him about his name. From how it sounded to where it was from, no one seem to like his name. And “Natsu” meant summer anyway.

“Okay,” she replied back, looking a bit disappointed. “Then mine would be… Spring!”

“Okay.”

Awkward silence.

“Do you want some ice- cream, Summer?” she asked, holding out a black bag from a market.

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“Sure! Thank you!” he said happily, receiving the ice- cream from her.

They sat at a nearby bench and started to munch down the ice- cream. Then they started to talk about themselves. They played some games and had a lot of fun.

“I think it’s time for me to go, Spring. Do you want to meet here again tomorrow?” Natsu asked.

“Okay, see you!” she replied as she ran out of the park, waving.

The next few days, they played and talked in the park. They were always happy and had fun. And there was the third day- the day of the accident.

On the third day, they were playing in the park as usual. They were like best friends now. It was right before sunset, and Natsu wanted to show the beautiful sunset he saw in the beach the day before.

“Where are you taking me?” Spring questioned Natsu when he suddenly grabbed her arm and started crossing the street.

“The beach. You can see the most beautiful sunsets there. I wanted to show you.” His eyes glittered, and she could tell that he was thinking about the sunset again.

She blushed as red as an apple. “Thanks.”

It happened when they were crossing the street. They were talking to each other, so they didn’t notice a big truck coming in their way. The truck driver was texting, so he didn’t realize the two five years olds either. Natsu saw his parents screaming his lungs out at him. He didn’t understand what they were saying, but he saw that they were pointing behind him. When he turned around, he saw a gigantic truck coming their way. The girl saw it too, but she was so frightened, she stood there frozen. Natsu was getting out of the way, but he saw Spring standing there. He quickly ran back, grabbed her wrist and started to run. The driver saw them and turned, but it was too late. Natsu tried to cover Spring before they got hit. Then everything went black.

Natsu open his eyes. The ceiling was white. He could hear that there were many people. He was wearing blue and white clothes that were not his. Thinking it over, he realised they got hit by a truck and he was in the hospital. He saw his parents coming in.

“Oh, you’re awake, Natsu. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?” his mom said, relieved.

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“Mom, where is Spring, I mean the girl who was with me? Is she alright?” he said, his voice slightly shaking.

“I’m sorry Natsu. I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”

Natsu’s heart sank. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. She was the first friend he had ever made. He was always lonely and considered as the “oddball” because he was so different from other kids. No one liked his name. Round tears rolled down his face full of regret, anger, and loneliness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone is supposed to have fun in the end of the school year right? But I’m not happy at all. There are only two weeks of school left of the last year of my elementary school career, and I had to move.

Why? Because of my stupid dad’s company. It’s not fair at all! My parents don’t care about me at all.

Not even once in my life, I felt cared about my feelings. They didn’t notice me when I was lonely, and they never took care of me. But a tiny bit of my heart was happy. This town is where that beach is, where “Summer” had saved my life. I hope I do well in a new school.

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

I woke up, covered in sweat. I dreamt about her again. It wouldn’t go away. It keeps chasing me every night. I lay in my bed with my mind blank. We were supposed to have a new kid in our class today. Who cared really? It was the end of the year. Also that beach we are going to in two days…

Maybe that was my last chance to find her. Maybe I should forget about her after that? I don’t know what to do any more. I have been waiting for six years…

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

I was scared. Really scared. Even though this is like my 3rd time moving, I always get scared, and nervous. I slowly opened the door to the classroom where I would be spending my year. I took a look around. People were chatting in groups, so I assumed that class hadn’t started yet. One boy stood out.

I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was alone all by himself. I felt bad for him.

“You must be May, dear. My name is Ms. Kelly,” the teacher said. She looked rather young to be a teacher. I just nodded.

“Everyone, listen up! We have a new kid in our class,” she said gesturing her hand at me. “Please introduce yourself.”

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“Okay. Uh… My name is May. I hope we can get along!” I said, doing a little bow. I was relieved that I didn’t mess up. I realised that my hands had been covered with sweat.

“Well you’ve come at a great time!” she said. Now I haven’t heard anything about this. I was half curious, and half scared. A “great time” said from a teacher might not be such a good thing for us children.

“We’ll be going to a trip to a beach called ‘Tropical Island’! Please read this form, and get it signed by your parents. We’ll be staying there one night.”

Tropical Island… Wait that is the name of that beach! The beach where I met “Summer”. I was so eager - so eager that I wanted to jump up and down! - but I acted normally. I took the permission sheet from the teacher.

“You will be sitting hmm… Next to Natsu,” she said, pointing to a black haired boy. He was the one standing out before. I nodded and went to the seat. It was right next to the window.

I sighed. I hoped that I was going to do well in this school. I thought that Natsu was a bit weird. He kept staring at me. And why does he seem so familiar?

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

I was zoning out, looking out the window as usual. I barely had real friends and whenever I talk to someone, all they talk about is my stupid name. About how it sounds so weird. Or how I look so different from other kids.

I didn’t really pay attention to anything that was going on until the new girl introduced herself. Her voice… is was soft and sweet as whipped cream. It sounded just like her! But, it can’t be her, right?

I was even more shocked when Mrs. Kelly put her next to me. What’s the point? I bet she’s going to laugh at my name later with the other girls. I did get the point of teasing people though. It just makes people feel bad and all. I wish they experience it too, so they can feel how much it hurts in the inside. They were all the same in the end, maybe except for spring.

I realised that her hair was platinum white too. Like “Spring”. I don’t know if she is “Spring”, but she’s so similar. Should I ask her? No, bad idea. Well this girl called May is making my mind more complicated than is should be. But I couldn’t keep myself from staring at her…

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The first day wasn’t that bad I guess. Natsu helped me with a lot of things, so I really didn’t have any trouble. I heard people teasing Natsu about something. I wonder what it was. The trip to the beach…

I’m really looking forward to it. I want to see him again somehow. I have a feeling that something will happen. Something big and exciting.

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

They were teasing me again today. It’s always have been like this, every day. They don’t think it is a real big deal, but it stabs my heart every time. But I saw that she was different. She looked…

Shocked. Maybe she wasn’t use to it, I thought at first. Most people join in because they think they are cool or they want to hang out with the popular kids. I thought they were just the same. But they aren’t. Maybe May was a type of person like Spring. I feel a bit happy, because of it.

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

I couldn’t believe it! They were being so mean to Natsu. I can’t believe how well Natsu deals with it.

He looks so hurt though. He must feel so… Lonely. I hate that feeling, even though I get that every day. I don’t have a sibling, and my parents are never home. I sometimes think that I talk more to the maids than my parents these days. And the way he looks... He reminds me of “Summer”. One more day to go, and we will be going to the beach. I’m probably going to stay in the park the whole day, singing the same song even though it’s embarrassing. He was the person who thought me what the feeling of not loneliness was. But I shouldn’t get my hopes up, because what if it doesn’t happen?

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

“Do you have everything, May?” my maid asked me.

“Yes, and thank you for the reminder,” I said. She smiled and went back to work. If I just had a mom like that… Or someone who cares, and loves me, that is not a maid. Well, I should be worrying about “Summer” and his existence the things I worry about every day. Well, now I’m off to school.

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

I probably won’t find her- That’s the first thing that I thought of today, after waking up. I was nervous and worried. I’ve been waiting, but no one actually said she would be there. Maybe she is studying today, on the other side of the country. But I will still waste my time at the park anyways.

It’s not like I actually like the beach anyways. But she was one of the the reasons that I could endure the pain of bullying. I knew that there were people out there like her somewhere.

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

“What are the places we can stay in? Are we allowed to go somewhere else too?” I asked hopefully.

“Well, if you really want to go somewhere else than the beach, you can go visit the park in the back of the beach, or you can buy something from the supermarket or the coffee shop over there next to the market,” the teacher told us, pointing. “Don’t try to got lost. And have fun!”

Well, I had a plan. I was going to “play” in the beach for a while, and then I’m going to buy icecream. I want to make it as similar as it could be from 6 years ago. After that, I’m going to go to the park. Well, it won’t hurt to have a little fun in the water for now right?

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

I haven’t planned out when I’m going to go to the park yet. I’m scared now. She isn’t going to be there anyway. But I want her to be. God must have something ready for me there right? There are always these kinds of fate things in books, so it may happen to me, right? I’ll just wait for few people to leave and buys things so I don’t stand out. I’ll pray to meet her today till then.

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

I really hoped that no one noticed. Standing out is the last thing I want. I bought two ice- cream and went to the park. Singing. That was what happened last time. But I’m older now, and it’s not normal to sing in public. It’s so… embarrassing. And the song I sang then, it’s such a childish song! And, what if he doesn’t come? He doesn’t even know my name! It’s early for people to come to the beach too.

What if this was just me getting a bit too excited because I was moving to a town close to here? Tears of regret was almost about to roll down my face. Just to stop thinking negatively and to clear my thoughts, I sat under a nearby tree of where I was 6 years ago, and began to sing in a whisper.

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

I’ve never thought that keeping track of where everyone was this hard. Well, not hard but tiring.

So far, I’ve seen few girls go to the convenience store, but no one going straight to the park yet.

Should I go? I don’t want to stand out from the rest of the group. But a lot of people have went already. Maybe I’m thinking too much after all. But even if I go, will she be there waiting for me?

It’s hard to admit, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of her not being there. I’m afraid that the whole thing that I’ve been thinking in my head was just an exaggerated imagination. I’m afraid that this is my only chance too.

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Not knowing what to do, I just stood up, and slowly walked to the market. I just looked around and came out. I tried to get out of there and into the park without anyone noticing. Phew. Now I actually have to find her. Platinum blond hair, pretty, good voice; that was what I was trying to find. I searched everywhere I could see but no one was there! Just when I was about to give up, I heard a voice. It was quiet, but beautiful. It was her! I just knew it. But the voice was too quiet, it was so hard to find just with my ears. Suddenly, it hit me. I ran and ran, just to get to the right spot. The sounds was getting louder too. I stopped to catch my breath. I could hear her clearly now. Slowly, I walked behind the tree to hide like that day. I peeked to see how she looked, but I soon realised that she was sitting right behind the tree I was sitting on. Until the song finished, I didn’t move an inch and I barely breathed. The song finished. My heart was racing. Bam! We both turned around at the same time, causing our heads to crash. And then I saw…!

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

I knew he would come. After a while, when I was getting pretty hopeless, I heard heavy breathing and panting right behind me. I turned my neck a bit, and I saw it! His black hair! With a tint more of happiness in my voice, I finished the song. I realised I was so hot, and my heart… It felt like it was going to pop out of my chest! I slowly turned around to see his full face but… Bam! We turned around at the same time, which made our head bang. I lifted my head up and saw…!

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

“Natsu?” What? Don’t tell me! He was so close to me after all…

“Hello, Summer,” I said smiling.

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

“May?” Oh, I knew it. But she was so close to me…

“Hello Spring,” I said smiling.

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Smuggled Shane Kim Monday, 25th June 2013 Today is my first day of survival. To keep me entertained, I have decided to write in this book which will be my diary from now on. I found a stream nearby from which I drank from. I also found some ripe raspberries growing on the bushes. I never knew I would be so delighted by a fruit. Still unable to believe that I am forced to survive in this place for almost a week; my regrets and shame sink my pride and joy.

I shouldn’t have looked out of that closet… That was clearly the dumbest mistake I have ever made in my life. Although this is a bit scary, it feels like an adventure to me, almost like a video game. If I survive on this island for a week, I think that it will be the best experience of my life. But first, I have to make it happen by trying hard. I tried to focus on finding tree branches and berries but I just couldn’t fixate my mind on it. My mind kept on drifting off to the thought of that weird sound again. Now that I keep thinking about it, it gets me really curious. What was that sound? Also, the name “John” keeps coming back into my mind. I never knew the world was such a sophisticated place.

It all started off with one argument between my mom and me.

“Mom! Where’s my school uniform??”

She replied in a reluctant manner, “It’s right over there. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!”

“Fine then.”

Then, I made a huge mistake. Without thinking, I left the house.

After leaving the house, I had nowhere to go, so I headed for the public library near my home. I went in and greeted the librarian. She seemed like she was in a good KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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mood which cheered me up a bit. Then, the alarm went off. From the sounds, I assumed that there were intruders, so I hid in the nearest closet.

Tuesday, 26th June 2013 Today I made a discovery that will be long remembered. I found an iPod on the side of the stream along with earphones. I turned it on and surprisingly, it wasn’t out of battery. The weird thing was that there was only one song on the playlist. It was Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons”. I wished there were more songs because it got me really bored. I tried to look for other things to entertain me, but there just didn’t seem to be electronical devices on a deserted island. I also have good news and bad news. The good news is that the head of this program said that we will only stay for 3 days instead of 7. The bad news is that the leader said that he would execute 4 of the survivors after the 3 days of hard work. I am trying very hard to survive in this burning hot weather. Yesterday, there were 40 people alive. Only 20 people are alive today…

“Creak…”

I heard voices murmuring near the door. I felt tired, as the voices sort of lured me into this daze. Then, I heard a sound that snapped my mind back to reality.

“THUMP.” It sounded like a book falling to the floor, but for some reason it didn’t seem that simple. This situation didn’t seem real. It felt like I was dreaming. My heart started to pound so hard, I felt like it had burst out of my body. Sweat dripped down my body as I could hear the voices getting closer and closer. Then, I made the worst mistake of my life. I peeked out of the closet, hoping that they weren’t there, but then my eyes met with one of the intruders. I screamed and I tried to claw my way out of their filthy hands as I was dragged away to a dark, damp place.

I could hear people whispering about something which I couldn’t quite catch. Despite the fact that I could not see or hear anything outside of my room, I could interpret that it was some kind of ship due to the smell of fish and salt water. I was now getting curious about what type of environment this was. I was guessing that it was most definitely not a good one, because of all the screams and yelps I heard. Now, I could hear the two voices from earlier on at school.

“What should we do with the little boy?”

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“I’m not entirely sure. I think we should get rid of him though because that’s what John insisted on.”

John? Who was John? This just got me more puzzled as I wanted to go back to sleep.

Then I heard the odd sound once more.

“THUMP.” My heart stopped once more, as I waited for the confirming yelp. After a few seconds, I got the scream. Then, I realized what the situation was. This ship wasn’t just any ship. It was a slave ship. I don’t remember the rest…

I woke up to the water splashing against my head. There was nothing around me except for the soft sand. I tried to recall what had happened earlier but it was hard.

At that moment, I heard a voice looming over me. It said, “You must survive on this island for 1 week in order to become a slave”.

At first, I thought it was just somebody playing a prank on me. But then I saw the other people trying to survive. Then, I realized that I had to do the same. And that’s how my journey started…

Wednesday, 27th June 2013 Today is the day of judgment. Our leader announced the survivors and surprisingly, nobody at our school survived except me. He announced the top survivor which was a girl named Scarlett. Although she was attractive, I had to resist it because of that fact that she was another enemy. My eyes kept shifting to her, and eventually I got caught daydreaming.

Pale yellow hair, electric blue eyes, a tall but slim frame... Pale skin almost sparkling in the sun, full, bright red lips… Flawless features.

Soon after that thought, I reluctantly forced myself to concentrate. After he announced the second person, I got desperate. I had to do something so that I could stand out. Despite the fact that I had to do something, I couldn’t. I was too slow and too late…

“Taylor Aceves.” the final survivor.

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My heart crumpled down into pieces as my mouth just hung in the air. The two words just kept echoing in my head due to shock. I had to do something. Then, the second boy and the third boy ran up to the leader, gave him a hug and rapidly ran towards the cruiser that would lead them to their slave owners. Although it wouldn’t be a good life there, it would be better than dying. I had to do something.

Then, the girl Scarlett caught my eye again. She hadn’t left yet.

When we were all getting ready for execution, Scarlett came to me and cheered me up. I could see why adults liked her. Then, she murmured something to the leader and called me to come with her. I wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but I was pretty sure that it wasn’t something good. Although I knew it wouldn’t be good, I still followed her. She led me to a train track. She asked me how I wanted to be executed. She told me that the leader’s name was John and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings so he asked her to ask me instead.

I felt heartbroken.

Soon that sadness turned into this evil thought of mine.

What if...just what if I...I tried to resist this thought but it came back every time.

What if I threatened to murder Scarlett to let me live? No...that would just be too selfish of me...I thought. But then, it was almost like the devil had taken over me for a while.

When the first train passed by, I whispered to her “Scarlett...I wish I could have loved you. I really do. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll miss you”.

She seemed puzzled but she replied anyway.

“What? Okay...But Noah...I-” I plugged the earphones into her ears with the Vivaldi song playing as she hugged me. It felt cozy especially because it was the last hug I ever got from someone.

“Noah...I love you...”

“I love you too Scarlett…”

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Whoosh.

Both of us - gone!

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The Tree Julia Kern Four seasons.

One tree.

Two boys.

That’s where it all started. In 1940. Next to the tree that changed with the season; like most other trees did. But this one was different. Its leaves sparkled in the summer sky and fell from the tree so gently during the autumn. Its trunk stood strong through the cold winter air and filled with animals all through spring. The two boys played by the tree every day; all year long.

~~~~~ Spring.

This was Oliver’s most favorite time of year. But this year was different. It felt strange. Even though Oliver and Sam would sit underneath together, there was some strange tension between them. Sam would barely talk or even look at Oliver. There would only be a few moments where they would sit together and laugh. But something was still peculiar... But Oliver couldn’t figure out why...

The tree even seemed to be dying. It wasn’t as bright as it usually was; it was darker, droopier... It seemed as though Sam’s mood and emotions affected the tree. It was strange... the tree would usually be straight up with large, long branches and full, thick leaves and flowers.

But it wasn’t....

~~~~~ Summer.

The most enjoyable season out of the four. The sun would shine high above the tree and the two boys.

They would play football or baseball near the tree. But it wasn’t like that this year... Sam wouldn’t play with Oliver. He would lie under the tree alone and look up at the leaves of the tree. He would sit there for hours just watching them. But Oliver couldn’t figure out why...

The tree seemed even worse than Sam did. Its branches started to droop down and hang low. But that didn’t seem to bother Sam. The tree would normally shimmer with light when the sun was in the sky. It would be full of flowers and even fruit of all different kinds. It would stand out from any other tree and be the biggest, the boldest...

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But it wasn’t...

~~~~~ Autumn.

The most beautiful of all the seasons. The leaves would be in bright red, orange and yellow shades.

Sam and Oliver would catch leaves falling from the tree and create large piles of them. They would run and jump into them... and do it again and again. But this year was different. Oliver would run around by himself collecting leaves, making piles and leaping into them. While Sam would sit by the tree... and watch... But Oliver couldn’t figure out why....

The tree didn’t seemed as alive this year either. Its leaves were all brown and yellow and would only occasionally fall throughout the day. The tree’s branches wouldn’t swish as the wind blew by. It would always be the tree with the largest branches, brightest leaves and most beautiful trunk.

But it wasn’t....

~~~~~ Winter.

The most wonderful time of the year. Oliver and Sam would normally have snowball fights around the tree. But this year.... this year was different. Sam wouldn’t even come to the tree because of the cold.

He would stay at home with his siblings. Oliver, still with hope, played by the tree alone every day. He would throw snow at the tree and pretend that it was Sam... but it wasn’t the same. The tree didn’t throw snowballs back....

The tree didn’t seem the same either. It would normally be filled with glittering snow. But it was only piled with it, and its branches seem to droop down. It appeared to be depressed. Normally, whenever Sam or Oliver would hit the branches, snow would fall down so gracefully. The tree would be the biggest one from the rest. It would be the one with the most snow. It would shine and shimmer in the winter sunlight.

But it wasn’t...

~~~~~ At the end of the year, on the day before New Year’s. Sam told Oliver something he thought he would never hear. Sam told Oliver -

“I'm... I’m lea-”

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Snow slowly fell from the tree and fluttered across his face... like tears from his eyes... The branches on the tree withered as Sam’s face did the same... The sun even seemed to set faster than it usually did... Everything was dark and dreary. Oliver couldn’t bare the sadness of the moment. He turned away.

“Oliver... I’m... I’m leaving... to-” He was interrupted again. The snow fell faster from the tree like more heavy crying. Oliver couldn’t figure out where he could possibly be leaving to. Oliver didn’t understand - like he hadn’t understood all year.

Sam seemed to suddenly boost his confidence. “I’m leaving to go join the war.”

“No...” Oliver whispered.

It was then that he understood that the tree was slowly dying inside.

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Humanity’s Railroad Brandon Cho Lucas held his dead friend in his arms, all of the memories they made together, flashing in his mind. It sickened him how easily people could die… **************************************** It was the year 2990.

Humanity was at an all-time low, truly demonstrating the chaos that came with nuclear war. The war was proof of humanity’s animalistic behavior.

Radiation had subsided, but not before wiping out all plant life.

No plants, no air. No air, no life.

To survive, tanks were the only solution.

Most people fled underground in abandoned subways. Granted, Lucas was evicted from his subterranean hovel, they only kept those whom they deemed “worthy.”

Lucas clutched the packet close to his heart; steely determination in his eyes. His friend always talked about how there were no more trees in the world, so people had a hard time breathing, and it was also the reason that they had to carry the extra weight of air tanks. What that packed contained, was not simply tree seeds. It was the railroad to the train of humanity's future. _____________________________________ Lucas seized his rusty shovel and dug a generously sized hole into the soft soil. He carefully ripped open the packet and poured out a small seed. He dropped it into the tiny pit and promptly covered it with some soil. Lucas quickly pocketed the packet into his khaki trousers looked around. Where should he go now? His friend was often the one who lead the duo, and he hadn’t told Lucas where they were headed, not that he’d know where it was anyway. They didn’t have a home either, since they were evicted out of the subway station. Lucas was always annoyed when he had stayed in there. It was way too stuffy and crowded, the people were all incompetent, selfish jerks. He remembered his friend making the metaphor of the subway station being a cage for humankind. Lucas shook his head and walked off into the north (at

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least, what he thought he could determine was north) through the foggy glass of his compass.

Lucas’s feet ached with every step as he trudged along the dirt path. How long had he been walking? How far had he gone? He felt the blazing sun beat furiously upon his neck. It felt like he couldn't even sweat because of the flaming fireball that was the sun. Lucas had been trying to find a place for a tree, but there was just too much debris in the area. Lucas took his canteen and opened it, and sipped a bit, only to find a few drops, which the sun immediately stole. Lucas screwed the cap back on and continued walking. Maybe he could find some more water, and some place that would be suitable for the seeds. Lucas stared at the seeds. He never bothered to get a very good look at them. They were small and very thin, and were all colored in various shades of black. From a distance, one may mistake them for rat droppings.

Lucas shoved the seeds back into the little packet and continued with his trek.

Over the course of a year, Lucas had planted the majority of all his seeds. During the summer, he planted 18. Autumn was gifted with a generous amount of 28. Winter was a terrible time to plant anything, so Lucas spent this time gathering rations that would help in surviving until spring. Spring then rolled in, and graced Lucas with a nice break from the beating sun of summer and the harsh winds of winter. The only problem now was the bandits and thugs who would definitely attack him if he were spotted. Winter and summer were free of ruffians, as the extreme conditions were not a suitable environment for one to be committing criminal acts. Now in spring however, where conditions were mild at best, there was no doubt that there would be a sudden spike in attacks.

Lucas peered inside the packet. It was still half full. Lucas let out an audible sigh as he continued on, his now extremely battered shovel barely being held together by the duct tape wrapped around the handle. He always told himself, whenever he felt that his quest was pointless, just how critical these seeds were for humanity’s revival.

These seeds would be able to help mankind rise from its gravestones in the underground, and establish a society, a community, a life.

After two brutal months of fierce traveling, Lucas had found a giant meadow that seemed to expand infinitely. It was barren of actual plant life, but Lucas was determined to change that. Lucas heaved his shovel and started to dig small pits and placed seeds inside each of them. After 30 minutes, Lucas only had 1 seed left! He gleefully dug another hole and placed a seed inside when he felt an arrow whiz by his head.

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Lucas whirled around to the direction of the ambush. A man, similarly built as he was, popped out of his hiding place, another arrow cocked in his makeshift bow.

"Who are you?" Lucas said.

The man said nothing as he approached Lucas.

Lucas held his shovel in front of him. Lucas had no experience fighting, but he was determined to plant this one last stupid seed.

"I'll ask you again, who are you?" Lucas asked.

The man muttered something in a foreign language. He put away his bow and took out a machete, stained with the bold taint of fresh blood.

Lucas was slightly taken aback by this, but placed a mask over his face and did not show it.

"Fine, if that’s how you want to do it, then come at me!" Lucas yelled.

The man understood that as fear, based on the fact that Lucas was thrown to the ground. Lucas rolled away as the man stabbed at the ground he just managed to move from. Lucas then jumped at him; the flat side of his shovel raised, and brought it down with all of his strength, only to have the man dodge to the side. He jumped back, but ran straight towards Lucas, who strafed to the left to avoid his attack.

Lucas wildly swung his shovel at the man, and the man continued dodging or blocking his attacks. Lucas slowed his attacks, and the man saw an opening. He brought his sword down and made a wide gash across Lucas's chest. Blood stained Lucas's clothes as he toppled over to the ground. The man approached Lucas, raising his machete, and brought it down on him, who managed to roll away again. Lucas leaped upon the man, and brought the shovel down on the man's head, but not before the stranger had spun around and made an extremely deep slash in his chest, right over his heart. Both the man and Lucas then fell to the ground.

Lucas looked at the man. Luckily for him, the man was knocked unconscious from Lucas’s attack. Lucas stared down at his wounds, nearly fainting when he looked at them. Both slashes made an X shape on his chest. Lucas's adrenaline rush ended, and he started to finally really feel the pain. Lucas crawled towards the little hole he made for the last seed, and dropped it in.

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Knowing that the little hole would never fit his final gift ‌ his body.

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The Divide: Luton and Tonus Megan Loney Luton and Tonus “In 2187 before you all were born, our planet which we now call Luton never existed - It was part of planet Earth. Earth was the combination of Luton and Tonus to create a huge world where 14 billion people lived—“ Mr. Pierre was interrupted by a paper plane in his face.

“We learnt this last year and the year before! Can’t we learn about something new like why it’s always boiling here on Luton,” Anderson Lawrence complained.

Anderson was my best mate since elementary school. He was known as the comedian and all the girls were obsessed with his looks. Especially as we exited the boys locker room.

“I was getting to that part, until you threw this stupid paper plane in my face!” Mr. Pierre shouted. “As I was saying, on Earth, They had 4 different seasons; winter, spring, summer and autumn. They would come at different times during the year, one after the other, but unfortunately, since the parting, Luton became the land of summer and Tonus became Winter. No one really knows what Tonus looks like - we don’t even know if there are any living species on it, but scientist are working on getting more information.”

Are there are humans on Tonus? I mean it must be freezing over there; so far away from the sun and everything - That’s what I thought before I arrived…

“How are you going?”

Ugh, not her again. I groaned like have been for the past month of my imprisonment.

“You’re going to need to come to the experimental room again...”

I didn’t reply. Once again, I weaved through all the rushing scientists and through the computer lab until I reached what I like to call: The room of Torture. But something was different. It wasn’t that old man that haunted my dreams; it was a young man probably aged around 18 - with chestnut brown hair and bright green eyes that sparkled every time he blinked. I have to admit he is kind of handsome (although he would still torture me, at least I wouldn’t mind who was doing it).

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“Hi there, my name is Dr. Sharman and I suppose you are Kendall Brent?” His voice was deep and mature and perfect. I got lost in my thoughts about Dr Sharman and didn’t realise I was staring at him with a creepy smile on my face while he awaited my reply. I quickly snapped out of my dream and go back in my mind to what he asked me. I cleared my throat.

“Yes that’s right. I’m Kendall. Now what are you going to test on me today?” I asked with my voice filled with attitude. Since Tonus was really poor (bad education, no medicine, our population has a steady decrease) We couldn’t live without aid... they decided to take over our planet. They say it’s all for the better and they are helping us survive, but we all know that’s not even close to being true. Since we have a bunch of free land and people, they chose to build a huge science lab - which is basically a prison, take all of our people and testing on them. They inject us with weird looking liquids, they strap us into odd machines and test them on us; everything they invented they experimented on us just to make sure it was safe to use for people who were actually worthy - all the people in Luton. Once they were done with us, they’d send us back outside and wait for us to die. This cycle went on and on and none of us could stop it; we had no power.

10 YEARS LATER The girl that I met 10 years ago in the lab - Kendall - was not the girl I see now. My Kendall was sassy. She wasn’t afraid to speak her thoughts (which was quite a challenge since the other Tonus citizens don’t even try to put up a fight). I liked her; the fire in her eyes, the attitude that laced her voice. I liked her from the moment I read her profile. A Tonus citizen with the ability to solve St. Jacob’s theorem was not something you see everyday. Her potential was endless.

And that was what saddened me the most. To see her like this, helpless, struggling.

She was so special; she was a rare find. People knew that coma’s were a common side effect of the testings. Only 8.6% survive through coma’s. But I will keep on believing.

I will keep on believing that she is in that 8.6%...

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Lost Shlokk Moolchandani WHOOOOOOOOOOSH! My eyes flickered open and I glanced around me. I could only see sand. The numbness in my body was rising. WHOOOOOOSH! A bitter, frigid breeze slapped my face as it moved a way from me! It was a horrendous feeling!

I managed to get up. The next breeze of wind told me that I was in desperate need of shelter. I walked and walked trying to find any cover from the shivery winter. It felt like this island was never ending. Then I remembered: I was on my private boat when a thundering storm flipped my boat around and I got washed off at an island.

That explained why my clothes were drenched.

THUD! I woke up in a cave. It was warmer than outside but still my hands were numb. I stuck them in my armpits to try and warm them back up. A chill ran up my spine as I realized that I wasn’t alone on this island. No animal could have hit me on head with an object and possibly knocked me out.

BRRRBRRR! It was the sound of a phone. I looked around the cave in suspicion. Suddenly, a beam of light shot into my eye from the dark cave. I ran to it, thinking that I could find someone to get me home. Eventually, I arrived at a crumbling door…

BRRR! BRRR! The curiosity got the better of me, as I peeped through the keyhole. It was a room.

My hands couldn’t stand it anymore… The door creaked as I entered. There was a rusty bed and a flickering light dangling from the ceiling. My eyes flickered from side

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to side, trying to find the phone. There it was on the far corner of the room! As I grabbed for the phone…

BANG!!! Everything went black…

After a few hours, I gained consciousness. A blood droplet slithered down my neck and on to my feeble shoulders. I scrambled myself up but the steady ropes tied to my legs stopped me! Someone had kidnapped me. I tried to untie my legs, but the ropes wouldn’t budge. Then I remembered I had my pocketknife. I slipped it out of my pocket and cut through the sturdy ropes.

My legs moved me out of the room and into the cave. In a blink of an eye, there was an eye-piercing white light that dragged me inside it.

A flash of light shot into my eyes forcing me to shut them. Suddenly, I heard the sound of water trickling, as I opened my eyes. My head forced me to look towards the gushing waterfall. I glanced up to the sky; I was out of that horrid cave.

“There you are… Turn around!” a low familiar voice spoke to me in my head.

It was my dad, Dr. Summer…

MY LATE DAD… DR. SUMMER!!!!

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Backstabbed Min Yong In a cool, autumn day, a man sat on his porch, staring into the nothingness of the stars beyond.

He was quite an old man, with an age which well exceeded 70. But he had the appearance of someone much older, almost resembling a shriveled tree, with wrinkles surrounding his face that seemed double his actual age. He sat, ever-looking so fragile that like he may sway against the wind even at a slightest breeze. Still he sat alone, seemingly waiting for something. In reality, he was just waiting for a sleep that could sweep his worries away forever. After that one incident involving his wife, he didn’t feel so enthusiastic about life anymore. After that one incident…

It all started on a fine day of Christmas Eve. The man was decorating his house for this merry day which only came once a year. It was also his wedding anniversary, so he was looking to make this an extra special day for his dear wife. Aside from that fact, it was the day of the birth of Jesus Christ! A devout Christian, he considered this day to be a very important day of his life. After all, Christ had helped him get through his toughest times such as the stock market crash of 1987, more commonly referred to as: Black Monday.

The man had been a stockbroker at the time, working for a brokerage firm. He was just 25 years old, completely new to the world of economics. He was coming to work for the first day of his broker career, ready to take on the day. Then Black Monday happened. The firm, a company which had been founded in 1899 and had been successful since then, had closed its doors on the man’s first day of work. Talk about luck. From there, the man couldn’t find a job and soon declared bankruptcy. He prayed and prayed to God for another chance at life.

Miraculously, he soon found a job at a small company in Wall Street and had worked his way up since then.

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As the man was decorating his Christmas tree, he realised he had forgotten to grab the star for the top of the tree. Whistling merrily, he stepped out of his house to grab it from his car trunk. That’s when he saw a scene which changed his life forever.

At first he couldn’t see clearly with his eyes straining to focus into the dark background and the 2 human figures there. They were a man and a woman, and the woman had an uncanny resemblance to his wife. Peering closely, he saw that it was indeed his wife! His heart now beating madly, he observed the duo at a safe range. They were sitting on a bench, talking quietly to each other. Suddenly, the man bent over and kissed her.

And soon after, the man’s wife kissed back. The man’s wife! His wife who had been loyal to him for over 10 years. With blood rushing in his ears, he opened his garage and got out a bat. Blinded by rage, with spots dancing in his vision, he marched to the newfound couple with the bat. Sensing someone behind her, the man’s wife turned around. Now wide-mouthed, she started to open her mouth. He couldn’t remember swinging the bat, but in a split second, the unknown man and his wife were on the ground, with blood seeping from their heads. Breathing heavily, he dropped the bat which was now bloodstained and dented. With blank eyes, he walked back over to his house, collapsed on the sofa and turned on the TV with shaking hands, staring numbly into the screen.

Next morning, as the man expected, some cops came with handcuffs and guns to arrest him. He didn’t bother fighting, as guilt was making his sanity hang on by a thread. He was quickly declared guilty by the court due to his hopeless demeanour and was convicted of second degree murder after which he was then sentenced to 30 years in prison where he slowly lost the last grasp of sanity that he was so dearly holding on to. Now he sits waiting, waiting for the end that is sure to come…

‘“It was a mistake," you said. But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you.’ ― David Levithan, The Lover's Dictionary

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AquaHelitrope Cordelia Seymour I ... I ... was nothing. Just a scruffy boy chosen to be a knight at the castle! Nothing special really.

I had dark stringy brown hair that hadn’t been washed in a week and green eyes that looked like, in my opinion, vomit. I had been extremely nervous. I knew that the Queen of AquaHelitrope didn’t take time to talk to the knights directly unless it was something important… and she had just said it was important.

“I am so glad to see you too, my lady.” I said as calmly as I could.

I had to make sure I spoke with as much etiquette as I know. Being not as wealthy as the royal ranks did put some limits to your schooling and day to day life. I only knew the things taught to you in 1st-8th grade. For the people of AquaHelitrope only the first 5 school years were paid for by the government. After that your parents had to pay. Most rich kids got to go to school through at least high school and a little over half got to go college but the poor kids? Nah! They got what their parents paid for.

My parents only had enough money to send me to school through 8th grade. If I was still in school I would be in 10th grade. Since my parents didn’t have enough money, I was drafted. The more education you have the better job you will get drafted into. I dropped out in 8th grade so that’s when I had to get a job. It couldn’t be a high paying one since I didn’t have enough education. I was drafted in to the knight forces because I know MMA, (pretty lucky actually considering the circumstances) “Do you think you could do me a favor young knight?” The Queen said in a gentle, flowing and kind voice.

“Of course Queen Torian, what should I do?” I questioned in a quick-witted way.

“I have realized that it may no longer be safe to stay here where we are. With the sea creatures on the other side of the city fortress threatening to get in and the rules my father put in place about to snap and put our city in a revolution against me KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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and the government. I just don’t think we can do it so this is why I have asked you and 6 other boys and girls around your age and a little bit older to go on a quest. It will be challenging but it will rewarding though too…” The Queen said in a composed and understanding manner.

“I think I will do it. I will talk to my family about this and tell you tomorrow although I just have to ask… how will this reward me? I would like to know before I make my choice.” I answered energetically who would want to do something for free?

Life can never be that way especially when you are as poor as me… I never thought of what I had just said as rude, but the royal court did everyone gasped raising their hands to the mouth like a bunch of immature children. Even the Queen looked flabbergasted.

“Well, I haven’t decided yet, but you will get something I have to think through it a little more. But I am sure by tomorrow though when you have your final decision I will have an answer to that.” The Queen said smoothly and honestly.

Smooth, like my little sisters hair after my mom has brushed through it… *************************************** “Hello, my sweet Oliverunchkin. How was your day?” My mom said in that little baby voice that is always bothersome but still gets to you in that motherly way.

“I had a good day Mom. Please stop calling me that I am older now. It’s no longer cute and my nickname, now is just annoying and obnoxious.” I said with a blunt tone.

“I am only trying to be a supportive mother. I thought that’s what you wanted.” Mom answered back.

“Right now, I need to talk to you about something really important.” I replied with a little bit of anger rolling off my tongue.

“I... I… I’m sorry why don’t you go wash up? It’s almost dinnertime you can tell me the important stuff then.” My mom said kind of choking on her words and stuttering.

“I am so sorry mom that was rude of me I will go wash up and be back in five minutes to sit down at the dinner table and tell the family the important news.” With those last words I left the room.

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******************************************* “What! That’s great Oliverunchkin. You need to take this opportunity. It could do great things for your future!”Mom said with a questionable but happy attitude as I told her my ‘important’ news.

Dad on the other hand… not so much. I knew he wouldn’t side with me and mom. He acted so dark and honestly it got on my nerves a lot. I felt like I couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be able to get to know him.

“What? No Anlea, this is impossible he cannot leave for a month or two he and I are now our family’s main money makers (mom had been retired now for a while. So that she could stay home to take care of me and my sister… and the house) and even now we do not have enough money and if he leaves the family we will be literally broke!” My dad shouted to my mother full of rage and agony.

“Dad it will be ok. I will ask the Queen tomorrow if she can get you all something to help you live for the time being while I am gone. What I get I will share with you. Because that was part of the deal I will get a prize whether it is of money or a promotion or a new house paid for by the government we will get something and I know that it will help us get by in some way.” I said almost begging now.

“Ok, but I am still nervous about this all.” Said Dad sighing in his ok-I-havegiven in voice. ********************************************************** I could feel the jolt in the submarine as if someone was hurling me through space (if that’s even possible, I didn’t know). I had gone to the presentation and met the other boys (Jaso, Davon, Palin, Fall, Carsonin) and the only girl (Sealine).

When I said goodbye to my family I knew I was hurting them. I saw my dad’s face as I left, full of greed and sorrow at the same time. I saw my mom’s beautiful face now not so beautiful with bags under her eyes and wrinkles stretching across her face as if to say,’ We are finally here to stay so we’ll stretch out and make a mess of your once beautiful face,’ and my little sis Pearl, oh Pearl, crying her brains out and practically killing her stuffed animal she named Bobbani. I felt bad no doubt but I also knew I wasn’t just doing this for my benefit I was doing it for theirs too.

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Now we were cruising, slowly losing depth and rising to the surface. I was trying to stay calm while making small talk with Sealine and Jaso. They were pretty nice. Sealine had a beautiful complexion with crisp brown hair that had tints of blonde peeking through, her skin was pale yet not an ugly pale and her outfit nothing special something kind of like what you would see in my area, the poor area, although she had gone to school until last year. Which revealed that she was slightly richer than me.

Then there was Jaso. He was still in school, and about to drop out when he got called to do this so of course his automatic choice, like mine was to take the offer. He had blonde, blonde hair. It was so blonde you thought he might have dyed it every 2 weeks and his eyes were hazel.

I knew we would be coming to the surface soon so I decided to show myself around. When I got to the room that had my name on it I shoved my hands in my pocket and hastily grabbed the key. I took the key and pushed it in the lock I twisted it, heard it unlock, then grabbed the door handle and pushed open the door… The room was amazing in it was a comfy bed with warm sheets, a flat screen tv with High Def plus a mini fridge all to myself! I loved this place. It was the home I’d never had! I crashed for a couple minutes until Carsonin came and knocked telling me we were approaching the surface. ******************************************************** The surface was vast and stretched for miles on end. The water was very, very blue. It was pretty you had to admit it. Everyone but Fall was staring down at AquaHelitrope. I wondered at that moment if he was feeling sorry or guilty he had left.

I made a mental note telling myself to ask him about it later.

AquaHelitrope looked so much smaller, so much weaker when you weren’t living in it. To be honest I think we all preferred to look up for we had never seen the sky before. The sky was beautiful it was a fresh blue and the clouds looked like big marshmallows or you could say cotton candy in weird shapes I just wanted to reach up and devour one!

“This is amazing!” I shouted out over the roar of the engine as if I wanted the whole world to hear.

“Yes!” Sealine replied.

“Guys I don’t think it’s so amazing anymore. Look! Sea monsters!” Fall shouted, finally looking up, in a serious and fear filled tone.

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go.” I said exhausted as I hurried down the steps to the lower decks now suddenly afraid of this giant world.

The submarine started slowly submerging and moving faster but we were too late.

The sea monsters were coming and they were gaining on us… fast.

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The Portal Gioele Trabucchi “Duck!”

That was enough to make me spring behind one of the many steel desks.

The gunshot was like a cannon to my ears. The bullet flew past and time slowed down; I tried to move but it was like I was chained to the ground, trying to break free. My friends on the other side of the room were screaming - his expression was full of panic.

But I couldn’t react.

The bullet flew and hit the only thing it shouldn’t have… “The portal” As the portal and the bullet collided there was a spark and shards of ice flew everywhere in a mere instant. I lay on the ground with my eyes closed, not daring to see what was happening. A piece of ice impaled itself on my calf and my flesh slowly corroded. The pain was unbearable but I gritted my teeth and held on.

A scream! A wail! And then silence…

I did the only thing possible: I dove into the portal.

*************************** “Are you sure about this?” Mark’s voice seemed to be coming from a hollow cave.

“No, but we have to. Just think what it could mean for the future” But just as I said it, I wondered if it was really worth it.

“Yes, but think about the dangers? Are we really going to put superhumans out there? They can save us or destroy us” His words echoed through the emptied lab like drops of water from a stalactite. *****************************

One day a group of scientists and astronauts brought in some more “gift”s for us (I’m joking). This time they were obsidian rocks from the moon. Yes I am not lying: after NASA initiated their drilling missions on the moon, a lot of mysterious metals have been found (Oops that was Top Secret) and many of these have unsure origins and cannot be found on the Earth.

As soon as the obsidian rocks were placed down on our laboratory floor, a whisper of wind blew in from one of the windows… except there weren’t any. A second later the drawer where we held our shards opened, and they flew right towards the rocks. The shards were as sharp as knives and they were going

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pretty fast, so as soon as one of the shards touched one of the NASA scientist, it flew right through his arm.

The scientist watched in horror as his own limb fell to the ground, and then cried out in pain.

The four shards placed themselves onto the obsidian rocks, as if as they were made for that.

Instantly every inch of our laboratory shook and the rocks started levitating and putting themselves in place. The outcome was an obsidian rectangle with hole in the middle, big enough for two humans.

Then the weirdest thing happened (as if this wasn’t weird enough). The four shards started shooting purple lasers everywhere. They weren’t fatal but they did burn; one streaked my arm and I cried out in pain. My shirt had a burned line across it, but my skin looked intact.

Finally the four lasers all pointed towards the middle of the hole, where they crossed in a X. The lasers started heating up and full blast shock wave shout out. I can’t describe what happened in that instant, but it was life as if the particles inside my body were doing some skydiving. I witnessed my hand going from liquid to solid in instants. I felt panicked, but at the same time I felt as if I could lift a car with my pinky. So much adrenaline would have busted my heart, but I stayed on my feet, my heart beating like a thousand drums playing at the wrong time. Then everything settled. My feet buckled and I fell to my knees. The hole was now filled with a purple floating liquid.

I wanted to touch it, more than anything in the world.

We spent a few months studying the portal and how it works. We couldn’t touch it with utensils because as soon as we did, it sparked to life. Depending on the seasons it would shoot shards of ice, fire, gusts of wind and razor sharp leaves. While we studied it we noticed that it followed the pattern of the seasons. Fire for summer, ice for winter, wind for autumn and earth and leaves for spring. And that was when we realized that if anybody was going to touch the portal, he or she could assume immense power and would be able to control the elements of the seasons.

We made it to human trials. A volunteer stepped in the portal for the first time. He never came back.

Until his body came tumbling out of the portal, covered with lava and burned to the bone. The portal did not like him at all.

The scary thing was: I could hear the voices of the ones who passed the portal and never came back.

When the room was totally empty, I could hear them whisper to me and swear at me, pleading to save them from their fate. This was too much. I did not become a scientist just to follow a strange portal that appeared in stories,or to hear the voices of the dead. It was time to finish it and destroy the portal.

That is when the strange man in black came.

He came in and nobody protested, even though this was a restricted area and nobody could come without permission. Then without a word or explanation he pulled something out of his pocket…

A plasma gun.

He was about to pull the trigger.

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In an instant Mark dove at the man, making him unbalanced. The plasma ray passed an inch from my face, instantly the world turned upside down: I couldn’t hear a thing only a distant beep in my ears, the skin from my face was peeling off. The heat of the plasma ray almost made my brain explode.

And I was standing still while all around me a battle was raging, a group of scientists were fighting the plasma gun armed maniac. The smell of sulphur filled the air, my eyes were watery, plasma rays melting every single furniture in the laboratory. A pot of explosives materials crashed on the ground and… BAAAM. The whole corner went aflame. The smoke in my eyes made me cry. Finally my ears popped and I could hear again, the crackling of the fire was like a devil’s laugh and the heat from the fire scorched my face. In other words, it was hell.

The man in black stood up and and yelled: “We will have what we want! You just have to wait!”

I did not know what to say, i could have said: “Who’s we?” or “Come and get it!” or “What do you want from me?”

He didn’t give me enough time to answer, his humongous fist collided with my jaw. I fell hard on the ground. I could see my own teeth falling out right in front of me, and I kept on spitting out blood. My eyes rolled back and I fainted.

I woke up in a NASA hospital. A bunch of doctors were leaning on a bed on the other side of the room… when they moved I could see who was on it: Mark. His face was barely recognizable; stained with blood from his forehead all the way to his chin. His eyes kept fluttering and he kept on murmuring about the huge man in black. I guess it went better for me than for him.

As I kept scouting the room with my eyes I noticed my boss- Dr. Smith- walking towards me, his eyes were shining behind his white glasses.

“How are you doing Jack?” he said with that rattish tone of his.

“The portal…” I said, I didn’t even know where the words were coming from and I did not want to say that… somebody or something was inside of my mind.

“The portal is fine Jack, we brought here at our headquarters just for save measures. And one of our human trials worked!” He said it almost as if he didn’t care about Mark’s and my situation.

“I want to see him, see my creation…” Now it was getting out of control, my creation? Where did I get that?

“Sure Jack, are you sure you are allright?” Dr. Smith said puzzled.

“Bring it to me!”

The room was silent for a while, only the sound my hammering heart and medical equipment filled the air.

“In an instant Jack” And with that he left the room.

I fell asleep again and they woke me up saying that they have brought the human trial that worked. I opened my eyes and I could see a man, only that… he was covered in ice.

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His face a mask with no emotion, his body a razor sharp weapon, his eyes colder than the artic but filled with murderous heat.

When he moved his head I could hear the slow creaking of ice.

“We have already tested him, he can control ice and freeze water t amazing really!”

I did not know what to think, was this my destiny? Creating superhuman atrocities?

“Your theory was correct! He entered the portal in December and came back after a month” Wait, in December? When the incident happened it was November” “How long have I been out?” I asked.

“Precisely 2 months, we found your colleague a week ago, still under the rubble” Rubble? What rubble? There were too many questions to ask and too little time. The “ice-man” was staring at me with icy cold eye, as if to say “this is your fault”, as if I had put him in the portal.

I also noticed that the man had handcuffs.

“What are the handcuffs for?” I asked suspiciously.

“Oh those, just a safety measure” Dr. Smith said with a smile.

Then I said the dumbest thing ever which probably gave the “ice-man” a big hint of what to do.

“But if he can control ice and water, could he kill all of us in an instant using just a glass of water?”

The room fell silent and a late realization came through everybody’s mind.

“You shouldn’t have said that”, Dr smith muttered.

An instant later the room exploded with shards of ice. My own body froze, leaving me in a frozen state of panic.

I was not unconscious, I was just unable to move. The ice was slowly melting and little drops of water kept on dripping into my mouth. The heater must be on.

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

A few hours later the ice had melted completely, the room was filled with water from the molten ice.

My hands we numbed and grey: frostbites.

It was like I had ice inside of my body, my fingertips unable to move trapped in their infinite agony. I stood up from my bed. Started walking but with no destination in my mind. I was following my feet, not the other way round. I entered the passcode to a secured door. I have no idea how I knew the passcode, but it worked. Inside I heard hustling voices, I turned and… Mark was there!

“Mark, you survived?”

“Yeah, it was tough but the doc says that I was lucky” “Well good to have you back, who were you talking to?”

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“Nobody, just…”

And that’s when the man in black came.

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The Investigation Silje Jasienski My alarm goes off…

I rapidly wake up in shock.

It was still dark outside, and so very silent.

My heart was beating fast!

I found it hard to breathe...

I had the most extreme and scary dream of my whole life!

But it slowly faded away from my mind, while the water from the shower was dripping down on me in small drops.

Then I thought water, water…OH! The dream came back to my mind.

I was walking down the white painted, wooden pier and then slowly walking to the end, slipping off and falling in the crystal clear water.

After that was when I woke up, the rest of the dream was like a mystery that I had to solve, it felt like real life...

It was a weird dream but reminded me of something that my mum had told me right before she died...

She was lying in the white clothed hospital bed, blinking her eyes and tried to keep them open. Her dress was white with small blue spots on them and her hair was blond with her beautiful natural curls.

She turned around on her side facing me and said “Don’t go out on the pier honey, I really don’t want you to get hurt”.

I didn’t get why my mum had told me this because so far no one else said or mentioned anything wrong about the pier.

All they mentioned was the fun times they had jumping in the water and having picnics there, with lots of delicious food and drinks while sitting in the flowery grass and enjoying life.

At the end of the pier there was a restaurant; a cosy, white little building that reminded one of a boat house.

There were mysterious people working there...

All of them seemed so lost and confused.

Maybe they were the ones that were dangerous on the end of the pier.

I was curious and wanted to investigate further.

The next day I went to the restaurant…

I ran down the stony hill, then wandered down to the promenade.

I walked very slowly and carefully down to the diner.

When I opened the door, something was very unusual and strange of the atmosphere there.

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The lights were dim, the chefs and waiters seemed like ghosts who worked here for hundreds of years ago.

The red seats were all dusty, and the tables were not clean.

The outside area was not put up yet, for the restaurant was not opening before twelve o’clock.

You could smell the shrimp sizzling inside the cooking area.

That’s when I noticed a hallway past the kitchen between the bath room.

I saw some doors, it had some kind of writing on them… But it was so dusty and mucky that you couldn’t see what it said…

I cleared away the filth and scanned the words one by one.

Winter...Spring...Summer...Autumn…

WHAT! Maybe this was the part that should not be seen…

I wanted to have a look inside those doors but I did not want to disappoint my mum because I really loved her and I would hate to do that.

So I left, ran home as fast as I could. I was short of breath and could not run up the last hill so I decided to slow down. My heart was beating even faster now, my body was completely worn out after all that running. I opened the door to my white, yet beautiful house…

My dad is an architect so he had designed this house for my mum at the age of twenty!

He was great at everything and he is my role model…

There was no one at home.

I slowly walked up to my room and then I noticed something extremely weird. All the doors to each room were coloured in four different colours: one in white which reminded me of winter, the next one went into the bathroom and it was green for spring. The two last ones were in yellow and red… For autumn and and summer.

My mind went in all directions. I did not know what to think or what to do.

Maybe this was linked to the restaurant? What if my dad had designed the restaurant?

What if he was the one, the one who was the only living person who knew about what was behind those closed doors?

Too many questions rolled through my head that I took a step back and cleared my mind…

How was this even possible, I never thought that my parents would keep such a big secret from me all this time!

I was disappointed but also scared if this was something bad or they were involved in some kind of crime…

My life has been a LIE!!!

My parents were the sweetest people on earth and my dad was my hero, but if my hero was a criminal… That was definitely not good enough.

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Now that I had investigated this to the last limit nothing could stop me, it was too late to turn around and forget about this…

I knew too much information and details so I just had to work this out.

I made a promise to myself that I would NEVER mention this in front of my dad!

Later that day I wanted to contact my best friend but then I knew that whenever I am with her, we talk too much and it will all end up with me telling her about the whole thing… and that was NOT an option!!

But something I was going to do, was go back to the diner and maybe ask someone there, like the manager if he knew anything about the doors at all or if anything had happened through the years.

And that was how it started...my investigation into the mystery of “The Four Seasons”.

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Right and Rite Juna Jang Away.

Unkept.

Impossible.

Fate.

One more step,.. one more try… one more glance… a vague light of hope…

Here I stand, in a path of two different directions.

I see Diabolus, standing upright and tall with a twinkling face. Appearing to be beautiful... but cold. It points to the path that will lead me to fame, fortune and health—but I know that unhappiness will come along. It kindly gestures a hand to ensure that I will be abundant with resources. There will be plenty of food, water and shelter. My eyes shake.

I am being persuaded.

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An image appears. I seem to be older, looking confident, eager and happy, but I know it’s only an illusion—not the reality of how I feel. A second scene interferes. People. Praising, smiling, feeling satisfied with my accomplishment— but that’s not how I feel. Bang. It shows me the future. 10...20...30...50 years. And yet, I somehow know that I look the same. Satisfied but depressed. Happy but hurt. Successful but filled with regrets.

“This path is too good and true.”

“It won’t be as bad.”

“Forget about the other direction.”

“The other direction isn’t for you.”

“You aren’t qualified enough.”

“This is your place.”

“This one is for you.”

Voices. Mine. Raging across the atmosphere I am surrounded as balloons fall down. Flowers appear. The persuasion has upgraded itself. All my loved ones are on Diabolus’s side, comfortably urging me to join. They seem to have chosen this path, a path that the majority takes. The safe ride. No risks. Slowly, I take one step. And another. Here comes the third, fourth...fifth…sixth...

No.

Wait.

Halt.

Stop.

Think.

There stands Cherub.

The path that remains silent, calm, but, unsure. Her eyes shake as if sprinkles of tears will drop down any minute.

Graceful but insecure as if there is no right or wrong. Her path looks unsafe… but trickles with warmth. I begin doubting my eyes.

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Every move of her facial expression concerns me. Unlike Diabolus, Cherub exposes herself to everything. She doesn’t hide her emotions—as if she’s not trying to impress. She’s supposed to encourage me to take her ways, her path, her direction… but she stays still, without any mindset to convince me.

Cherub was different. No one knew where her confidence came from. Next to her stood less than a third of the people in Diabolus’s group. No one in her group looked outstandingly happy, rather calm and peaceful…but scared.

Each and every one maintained an insecure face—a face you make when struggling with two decisions, not knowing which one is more beneficial for you. Despite their decision, no one seemed as confident as those in the opposite direction.

But something seems different...something feels more...ethically right.

I just don’t know what it is. Maybe my instincts. The second I looked at Cherub, a wave of complication overpowers my brain and my footsteps towards Diabolus stopped instantly. There was no reason for such action. Cherub was less comforting, determined, nor confident than Diabolus. She didn’t even make an attempt to appeal to me.

Something keeps telling me to change directions. To head to Cherub. Then the voices stop me again.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t doubt yourself, this is your place.”

“Trying to do the impossible?”

“It’s not going to work.”

“Come back now.”

My brain begins to hurt as I feel lost. What’s stopping me from going to Diabolus? Everything is perfect. Pure white. The direction of Diabolus is what we all dream of - ecstasy. Nearly everyone has chosen his path. Every parent would want their child to go to Diabolus.

There stands the group of Diabolus, now yelling desperately, “COME”. To be the one, the best, the only. And Cherub? Still silent, not saying nor indicating a single word. As the yelling gets louder, I am now surely determined to where I will go. I have always belonged to this group. Diabolus is what I really am. He always guaranteed me that the rest of my life would be at its best. Nothing could simply go wrong the minute I had walked this path.

Everything would go as planned and organized.

People now begin to scream—I am running out of time.

My body heads to the direction as I begin to walk. I am firm. I am confident.

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But….

Here stands Cherub, as close as she can ever get. A fragile smile appears at the tip of her mouth.

“Fate mustn’t determine your destiny, but only your heart may do so”

...

I finally realize. I now know. I turn for the last time.

Step by step.

One by one.

Little by little.

Here I go.

§

“Do what you love; you'll be better at it. It sounds pretty simple, but you'd be surprised how many people don't get this one right away.”

- LL Cool J

Diabolus) n. 1. often Devil In many religions, the major personified spirit of evil. 2. A subordinate evil spirit; a demon.

Cherub) a. A representation of a small angel.

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Triangle Paul Kim and Thane Yun “Ahhhh!”

I woke up. I thought it was a dream. I don’t remember or recall why I’m here... or where I am. My last remembrance was when I was falling asleep after our graduation party in Dubai.

It was a Saturday night. Some of my friends and I were enjoying ourselves to celebrate our graduation from college. We were drinking, playing, and just having the time of our early lives. But I remember I came out to go to the bathroom from our hotel room. I finished my business in the restroom and was heading back to join the party. I was just about to turn the door knob when I heard a thump on the other side of the hallway.

Even though I was a bit tipsy, I decided to go see what was going on. I turned the corner and saw a metal door. It read “FOR WORKERS ONLY - DO NOT ENTER” Then I noticed that the door was not fully closed. My curiosity took over me and I pushed the door open and entered.

In the room was another door which I went through. In that room was another door. I repeatedly opened doors and went through 5 of them. As I opened the 6th one, I saw a black box.

I walked towards it and opened it. I was very surprised that everything was open like the door and now this box. Anyway, inside the box was a sheet of paper rolled into a scroll. I unwrapped the scroll and it was a blueprint of the entire hotel. It showed the features of the room, where different areas are located, and all the information you could ever know about the hotel including the size, the owner of the hotel and even the secret exit outside.

There wasn’t wasn’t a dot that wasn’t filled with information, but I noticed that the space which said ‘DESIGNER:’ was empty. I really didn’t know why it didn’t tell us the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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designer. I was wondering why this one piece of paper was kept so secretive and was so firmly secure. I rolled the paper into a scroll again and put it back into the black box where I first found it. I was just about to open the door, when I heard murmurs somewhere. I couldn’t tell exactly where- but I assumed it was the workers. I knew if I was going to get caught that I was going to get into a lot of trouble. However I didn’t just leave. I was way too curious and eager to know the secrets to this hotel and its people. So I decided to eavesdrop.

I leaned closer and opened my ears widely.

“So when do you think we’re going to take the orders out?” asked, the first worker.

“I guess.... whenever our boss tells us to.” he answered with a low voice.

The first man then replied, “Isn’t it kind of unfair and violent to do what we were told?”

“Dude, it’s just business. We just got to do what we got to do. You and I have families too. We can’t get fired here. We need to feed our kids first.”

“True, let’s start tomorrow.” the first man responded.

“We’ll look through the papers again. Let’s go find the box.”

When I heard the conversation, I didn’t know what to do, but to run. I ran with all my might towards the door. I opened the first, then the second, the third, and all the way until the very first door. I was exhausted. I didn’t look back even once. From then on, I went to the party room to enjoy myself again. That’s all I remember. I was very drunk and fed up.

“Where am I?” I asked myself.

I looked around the room and I noticed it wasn’t the party room where I fell asleep.

Without any suspicion or fear, I opened the door and realized that I was on the 4th floor but my room was on the 5th floor. The lights were glittering and sparks were flying out of light bulbs and sockets!

Then I slowly woke up as I noticed Thane, Omar, Jay, and Alex. Not knowing where all the other people are, I woke up my friends. They all look dazed at the moment which I probably do too. Then as I open the door we go to the end of the hallway. Once we get there we turn around and spot a man with a white shirt on.

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He’s really pale at the moment. He slowly drags himself towards us. The floor seems a little wet.

BOOM! A spark sparks up the floor and the man is burning! As I tell Thane and the others to get back I notice my feet are on fire! Then I quickly turn around and spot an exit door. I race my friends to the door and bust the door open. Then I take out my fire and look around as some of the red lights glitter with sparks flashing from the ceiling.

Pshhhhhh! Gas started to appear out of the walls!

Then I slowly started to get drowsy.

“Ahhh!” Alex started screaming while he was holding his ears. Jay and Omar were already on the floor unconscious. I look back and then I see that Thane is punching the wall gasping for breath- my legs are rocking back and forth- I trip over Thane’s leg and… I’m out I wake up and then I see John’s body on my leg… I see Alex, Jay, and Omar stacked on top of each other. I’m starting to feel my toes- I notice they’re wet-I look around me and I can see the reflection of the EXIT sign. Then I recognize that there’s water stacking up on the floor.

As I look behind me, Paul, Jay and Omar were awake staring at the EXIT door. I quickly look back and see water swarming down the hallway towards us.

“Guys lets GO”!

Paul quickly said, “Alex isn’t waking.”

“Leave him or else-“ “I’m not going to leave him!”

Then Paul lifted him like Alex was a soldier that was about to be left behind. Then the water was stacking up faster than me. By the time we got to the stairs, the water was at our knees. Every step was like running in quick-sand. As we climb up in the stairs, the water was 3 steps ahead of us. 4 steps ahead of Paul carrying Alex. Trying to escape we race for the top floor hoping that there’s a roof.

Now we are swimming up gasping for breath…

SPLASH! The water pushed us to the max. We are on the top floor and the water’s up to our necks. Now the water is slowly rising and is starting to get into my mouth. I KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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look around and I spot Paul still caring Alex but Paul is exhausted by now. Alex’s head is now in the water. I was drinking water slowly as I notice Omar and Jay aren’t there!

I quickly look around but I can’t see a thing. Without even noticing, the water had passed my nose- I couldn’t breathe. Paul had to put Alex down and is now gasping for air. The water is rising above our eyes. I look at Paul and he’s staring at me…

Ahhhhh! Ahhhh I wake up and see Thane, then Omar, Alex, and Jay. I lie back in comfort. Thinking about what just happened in my dream? I kick Thane as he walks up gasping for air. Then we wake up the rest but they did the same as Thane did and gasped for air. As we all woke up we started to examine our surroundings to check if this was still a dream. Gladly, it wasn’t. We started to walk around and notice that there isn’t an exit sign anymore and there’s only one door that’s available, and then…the sound of water starts coming closer!

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Reunited Aayushi Swadia Year 2014- On a day like this, who would not want to play? I wouldn’t. My life was over. Why couldn’t I be like the others? Playing happily in the evening, coming home and smelling the dinner that mums make? But no. Not in my case. I am Andrew, a 10-year-old boy who will never have love in his life (except for my cat, Garfield). Why? I don’t get it. I help all my elders, I am nice to my friends and I prepare dinner for everyone. I also wash the dishes every night. It’s God who chose for me to never have an immediate family. Anyway, I decided to write this for people to understand my life.

The life of Andrew Smith...

It is winter right now. I am looking out the window. The crisp wind blows so hard that the flurries change direction. I stare out the window as the fog clouds it, stopping my vision. My mean aunt calls my name and I run downstairs when the smell of pizza floats into my nose. Finally I didn’t have to make dinner and we ordered it from Pizza Hut. Ahhhhh… finally something to eat.

“NO” screamed my aunt as I was about to help myself, “It’s not for you! It’s for us. You can have some leftovers from yesterday. Now, go on… shoo” See what I mean? This is my life in winter. I hate winters because all my friends are inside with their families, having hot cocoa and here I am; having leftovers. Great isn’t it? Yeah… I know…

It’s night time. I am supposed to be sleeping but whenever I write in this the memories keep on hitting me back from way back in 2005 when my parents, my older brother and I were playing outside in the summer- when you could hear the birds sing, the insects talking and the bees buzzing.

I was 6 years old and... today was my birthday! I would never know that today my life would disappear. My parents would die and my brother and I will be separated. Till now I have been trying to find him, but my aunt and uncle will never allow me to go out unless I go to school. When I grow up, I will find my brother - no matter what!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Year 2024.

I am 20 now. I just found this book and guess what? Still the same lifestyle! Still the same! Can you believe it? I can’t go anywhere except college. I cannot bear this anymore! I am going right now to find my brother- if he is alive, but I have faith. He is alive because I can feel it. I just know. Am I ready for escaping my house? Yes I am! Saying that, I left the house secretly with a little backpack filled with snacks, a water bottle and my phone which I got last year. As I entered the main street,

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I could hear the birds chirp and the sun gleam in my face. Just like when I was small. I took a deep breath as the smell of summer drifted in my nose and guess what? I saw an ice-cream shop. For some reason, since I was small, I loved ice-cream and it brought memories back. I went to the icecream shop and the owner of it was not looking.

“Mr. Ice-cream man… Hello?” He looked up immediately and his eyes beamed like shining glitter.

“Hello Andrew. How may I help you?” He said. “ Can I please have a-” Wait… how did he know my name?

“How do you know my name?” I shouted.

“I heard of you many times. I am a loner in college but I hear you are good at studying!” He replied.

“Oh… you are in Boys College” “Yup… this is a little business I do to earn a bit of money. You know, when I was little my parents died and since then I live alone.”

“Alone! Oh that’s horrible! You should run away with me. I lived with my so called aunt, but she is so mean, that I am running away. Wanna join me, buddy?

“Wow… I like hearing the word ‘buddy’! I sure am partner.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tim is the name” “Nice to meet you Tim!” I sure like having some company. It was nice having Tim with me because I needed some friends, and for some reason, I felt like I have seen Tim before.

We walked for miles and miles before we reached an old, abandoned house.

“I feel like I have been here before”, Tim and I said at the same, exact, precise time. We both laughed. When we went in, we saw old pictures on the walls but they were hard to see because of all the cobwebs surrounding it. We went upstairs and the stairs creaked so loud that we jumped in fright. It was dark and spooky in here, but for some reason it felt like we were in the right place.

We went in a room and found a nice double bed. We thought to spend the night there and go exploring out ‘there’ tomorrow.

“You know, I ran away because I wanted to find my older brother who I lost some years ago” I said lying in bed.

“I see. Even I had a brother when I was young, but one day he just went. Poof. I don’t even know where.”

“We are so similar. We can be best friends!”

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“Sure can, pal!”

“G’night” “Good night” As the sun shone on me, I twisted and turned and then stood up. I felt weird. Almost about to be sick. I woke Tim up and told him how I felt. He told me that he didn’t feel well either.

“I say we go to the doctor” I muttered. “ Good idea. I think we ate way too much ice-cream. Let’s go, bud” He agreed.

As we walked into the doctor’s room he welcomed us and said, “ Hey you two. Are you two brothers sick?”

Brothers? How did he just randomly guess we were brothers?

“You see, we are good friends- kinda like brothers, but we aren’t brothers.” Tim blurted. “Oh I see…

I am very sorry. It’s just you two look quite similar.” The doctor replied, “Now what is the problem here?”

We explained our problem to the doctor and he gave us a test to do. It was a blood test. As we walked into another room, Tim got scared and I did my best to calm him down. When he was being injected, I told him to look at me and talk. I felt bad for him because after the test, a tear ran down his cheek.

After a while, the doctor called us in and said, “Welcome back you two brothers!”

Did he have a problem?

“I told you we’re not real brothers.” Tim said, his tone sounding serious.

“You sure are, you two.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“We are?” said Tim. “You are. We took your DNA and they match” The whole time I was with my brother? That is just weird. How could I not recognize my own brother?

“And also, your tests came out fine. Just have these medicines for a week and you’ll be ok!” We quickly thanked him and left- both of us quiet.

“Can you believe I was with you all that time?” I finally spoke.

“No way, bro! Oh my gosh!!! We are brothers! I finally found you!”

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“What are we going to do now bro?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go back to the house again” As we entered that abandoned house, Tim went to a picture on the wall and said- wiping the cobwebs away- “Look at these pictures, aren’t these our names?”

Indeed they were. It clearly said: Tim and Andrew. As we went to bed we thought, “We are back!

This is our house as all the pictures had our names on it; as well as Mary and Sam Smith- our parents”.

“I don’t know what we will do, but as long as I am with you bro, nothing matters to me!” said Tim happily.

“Me too” I gladly said, “and we can’t be best friends anymore!” I joked.

“Why?” “We are brothers!”

We both laughed. It was so nice to be back together!

We high-fived each other and had the best sleep we ever had in years. I had one thought race through my mind. I lost my brother in summer and reunited with him in summer too! So never worry if you lose something, because the Earth is round. It will come back to you one day or another…

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Wild Dogs Benjamin Choi SPRING: Best Friends Here we go again, waking up and going out hunting for those Howlers: a clan of people that we hate. Our group is called the “Wild Dogs”. We don’t have allies at all.

Most of the people we meet are mainly our enemies. We don’t like to stick around with enemies like the Howlers. They have been our biggest problem ever since we started this mafia group thing. It’s not that I want to kill them, it’s just that I do this for my family so that we don’t suffer like…uh, let’s just say people without a home.

There is only one problem with being in this clan. Everyday, there is a danger that one of us could go missing. We never know who it could be, but it’s about turning the victim into a human happy meal, or food for the cannibals.

Here comes Jimmy. He always has to wear a dark mask when in combat. He is the stealth hunter of this clan. I am the scout of this clan. My name is Chris, I am 13 years old with black hair, brown eyes, with three scars on my cheek. Now I see George. He is the leader of this clan, but he treats us like brothers. The last member of our group, is Sullivan. He made a great tank for this clan because he is the creative one in the group. He is also pretty brave because he wouldn’t even flinch if you slashed a knife near his eye. There is only one problem about him. He is a pretty crazy kid. He won’t stop at anything to protect his friends like this time when he beat up the junkman because he thought the junk man was pushing me around. Dang, but that junk man looked really bruised the last time I saw him. The police had to take him home because of that incident.

Anyway, the Wild Dogs ended up talking up in the tree house because Sulli was being taken home by the police.

So we all just stayed up there, and chilled as a gang. My family don’t really care about where I was, because my father died when I was 7 years old, and my mother is an alcoholic so she doesn’t really notice if I’m around or not. What I really enjoy doing most of the time, is listening to the radio, so I thought of bringing it to the tree house, and I did. All of my buddies were there and we listened to the radio and all the songs while we worried about Sulli.

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SUMMER: The Field of Blood Our gang planned a fight against the Howlers at an old playground at night. That’s basically where the Howlers hang out most of the time. What the clan told me to do was sneak around the back and wreck them from behind.

After he told me that, I stared at him.

He whispered, “Are you going to be a wuss about this, or are you going to be a man?”

Since that was what I was ordered to do, I just said, “Sod it, I’ll just go for it.”

Next to the Howlers’ place, I found a hole to crawl through. As I went in, I noticed that it was small, dark and cold…pretty creepy if I have to say so myself. I had to stay here for a while just crawling for about 45 minutes, so I just took a little rest because my gang was taking a while. I then look around the cave. It’s still dark, small, and loud for the most of it.

After crawling from deadly darkness, I suddenly find myself in a prison room. I see all of the allies we’ve had (The kidnapped ones), but they all had giant holes that looked like bite marks in them. Unfortunately, they were hanging off the ceiling dead.

I move to the next room, and I find two Howlers talking to each other. I take my knife out so that I am ready to stab them, but then at the moment I just eavesdrop. It seemed as if they are arguing about something. One is strapped in a chair and the other leaves the room after the argument. The other one screams for help. It looks like the one that stayed is going to die.

When I tried to make my first move, I saw something big. What I saw was nothing like a human. It looked like one, but it wasn’t. It has a deep voice, crooked sharp teeth which made the person strapped in the chair have a giant hole in his body. I felt really bad for that guy. When the monster left, I check the person strapped in a chair, and I suddenly notice the person strapped in a chair was an adult but not just any adult.

When I lifted his head up, I saw my dad’s face.

I drop his head in fear! He started to put his head up and he said, “Go kill yourself!”

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After he said that, he melted in agony and the room then disintegrated soon after. I didn’t know what was happening. I take a look at my hands, and they start showing huge human bite marks.

Fear enveloped me. Every bite mark made a human sound as it came up. It was like a human in big pain, so I shouted out loudly, uncontrollably until my lungs just couldn’t take it!

Then a silver carved sword suddenly penetrated me. I fell to the floor dead, but awake, then my eyes slowly closed when I saw HIM. I woke up. It was all a dream. I was still in the cave alive, and confident. When I thought that this could’ve been real, I knew that the plan wouldn’t go too well.

I crawl my way out of the cave, and I see everyone fight the Howlers with knives.

Metal against metal, blood turns into puddles, and death triumphs. This is a massacre.

FALL: We’re Back As we return from our painful day of fighting, my friend George was being dragged by the gang .

“I don’t know if he’s going to make it”, Jimmy told me, so I say, “What are you saying?”

We finally reach a hospital after dragging him for 40 minutes. I give a hundred dollars in cash to the person who collects it. That cash was just from stealing from people.

Our gang was lucky we never got caught those days.

I woke up after two days of seeing a dark void. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jimmy and Sullivan. They looked at me and Sulli says, “You’ve been out for two days”.

As I blink to get my sight, I see something in the sky heading towards us… some sort of eagle or something. As it came down I tell my gang to go away from it. I take a better look at the flying object and it’s a paper airplane! As it hovered down, to my face, I saw some letters, which look like they were written in pencil. They look like it said that someone was ok! It could be George! As soon as it lands onto my stomach, I faint.

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WOW! It’s a miracle! He’s alive! He can hear us! He’s got one leg missing, but that’s still fine! He’s alive is the important thing! Who would’ve known that this day would’ve come? It’s George! Our good old pal who was in the hospital for two months.

He’s had surgery for his leg, and now it’s off unfortunately. He’s stuck with a robotic leg for the rest of his life. We all shiver because of all the snow that is around our legs. We were wearing shorts and it’s winter meaning we might get frozen out here.

We travel back home, and as we travel, we ask George how it felt getting a robotic leg. He screams to the world like it’s his, “It was great! I mean like except for the fact that I don’t have my leg, but I am still alive! It feels great!”

As we went, the snow got deeper, and deeper. Back at the place where our war occurred, George did the right thing for us. What he did was sacrifice his leg for all of us. I’ve got to say that he’s the best leader of our group, and there’s nothing that can stop him. I think he has just turned into my brother now. When we get to the tree house, we listen to the radio. It’s 6:58 pm on my watch, so I just said to the gang, lets sleep up here tonight. It’s not that bad of a place! The snow fell onto the roof and the radio played the song ‘Lollipop’, and we sleep and let our eyes rest.

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The Light Alyssa Choi I had short black hair that smelled like cherries. I had long bangs that would bother my eyes. I had puffy cheeks, white and soft. I was wearing a red shirt, when I dropped a glass to the wooden floor.

“I swear dad! It was an accident!” I was an innocent 5-year-old.

“Please mom help me!”

I didn’t know any better. I felt warm tears running down my dry cheeks. My sight was blurry from tears.

I was afraid to open my eyes. Soon I was facing the wall. I was crying silently. He held up a golf clubthe one that was black at the end, but grey at the other because it was worn out… too much beating had to be the answer. The wood would show itself sharply at the end where it broke several months ago. With my teary eyes, I saw my mom and my sister running upstairs in fear. I turned my head towards the wall again. And then it came- the hard stick!

I yelled out a shril , most desperate scream. More tears ran down my cheeks on top of the dried tears that just calmed down. My head ached from crying too much. Then came a voice.

“100 times...”

After counting a while,I stopped. I didn’t know the next number- it was too high for me. My tears gathered beneath my chin where it hung on… until today.

She smacked me. She slapped me. She threw it. She wailed. The cycle continued.

I remember thinking, ‘Why do I put up with this? I hate her. What did I do wrong? What about her faults? Are you seriously going to blame me for everything?’

My heart told me to slam the door behind me when she dismissed me like she was victorious. But my brain knew better; it commanded me to leave quietly. So I went to my bathroom. I stared back at my reflection.

‘How hideous.’

I tried to wash my frustration away, but I failed. As I cleansed my face, tears started dripping onto my hands. I could tell by its warmth in the cool water. I sobbed with irritation, resentment, and sorrow… until today.

Their kindness, it occurs… but rarely. The happiness, it occurs, but scarcely. The frozen part in my heart, will never disperse, but it will ease into forgiveness. Once abandoned, never found. My vulnerable heart is yet awaiting for love, some comfort. Who knows? Maybe one day, my heart will be filled with joy, passion, warmth… At least I hope so anyway.

Times have passed; something always changes. Something grew in my heart. It wasn’t revenge, it wasn’t sorrow. It was a way. It was the old saying.

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“No matter what you're going through, there's a light at the end of the tunnel and it may seem hard to get to it but you can do it and just keep working towards it and you'll find the positive side of things.”

I’m fourteen now and I’ve grown. More friends, more hardships. More love, more hate. But best of all, more freedom. But what can I say? Parents are parents. Physical abuse turned into verbal abuse, something I thought would be better.

But again, “words hurt more than actions.”

Now that I understand what they’re saying, and now that I know how to fight back, I do. Of course I can’t overpower them by strength, but anybody can, with words. I found the meaning of words. They hurt, but they can do good. Kind of like violence. They taught me how to become independent. They taught me how to be strong. They taught me how to live a life- without them.

“Your attitude is the problem! Your tone! Fix it!” I grew up in a strict Korean family; English words cannot describe her explicit language.

She throws a glass towards me.

“Oh so did I teach you wrong? Ahh I get it. It’s my fault.”

I roll my eyes, “Not this again. When did I ever say that! OHMYGOSH! You never listen to me!”

My voice just gets louder.

She stands up from the couch and walks towards to where I’m standing. She lifts a finger up and points directly in between my eyes. “I told you to be careful.” Then she pushes my face with the force of that finger; Her face is this close to mine. An icky feeling.

I’m thinking, ‘I hate her… can’t wait to get this overwith.’ Then she breaks my inner-mind sanctuary.

“HEY! AREN’T YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME?” ‘She’s not the boss of me.’

“Yeah.” I say carelessly.

“Hahahahaha” she bursts into fake, witch-like laughter. “Hey, it’s okay you b****, you can just get out of here. No need to hate me.” Her voice becomes tranquil and quiet; a tone people use to talk to children- not a good sign.

She slaps me. She always had crooked teeth, I don’t know why she never had braces. Probably because she thought she was already too beautiful. Her mouth was revealing its pointy canine. She has no idea how ridiculous she looks to me. Her eyes are bulging, they’re about to pop out. I feel like holding my hands out, just in case they do fall. Her face is flushing with frustration. This combo looks hilarious to me. But I hold in my laughter; I’m supposed to be in my best ‘I’m sorry’ mode, to get this over with.

My way out of this house wasn’t available yet. I still have to wait four more years, and I hope it’s worth the fight. God had to bring me to life in this family; Out of millions out there. School wasn’t enough to keep my anxiety rushing. It occurs 24/7, non- stop. But I found a way out. It’s not the perfect solution because there isn’t one, yet I found a way. Some of my closest friends. Some of my favorite things. They keep me from my attempt to commit suicide. My way of joking.

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I learned how to fight for myself, and I seem stronger on the outside, but I’m still that same girl who stood short on the wooden floor, the night I was first abused. I lost my scent and I lost my innocence, but I kept my conscience.

Some days are hell, but you know what they say: “Sometimes that light at the end of the tunnel, is a train.”

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Flight 338 Vincent Djuanda Creek… creek… creek… Soon we were airborne. It seemed like the pilot had the engines up to full power.

The dreadful noise of the fuselage sounded like… I had no time to explain because the atmosphere in the cabin was ice cold.

We were taking off near the arctic and my brain was completely frozen in time.

I thought about my family as this was going to be the first visit in three years.

Soon, we slowly reached our altitude, thirty-five thousand feet and there was some slight turbulence as we were cruising . The cabin crew announced that dinner service would start soon after we clear turbulence.

I peeked through the window; the atmosphere outside was cloudy and thunderous since we were going through some storms.

It felt like the aircraft was gently navigating through the milky way.

As I patiently waited for my meal, I took a last look outside the window. Just beside me, was the wing of the aircraft .Moments later, I noticed a small red flash coming out from what seemed to be the engines.

Boom! creek… creek… it was the sound of the unexpected turbulence we encountered.

The cabin attendants made a remark that they would be suspending the dinner service until the shaking would end.

I ordered a cup of fresh mineral water from the crew and started watching some movie to use up some time.

The new movie series Jurassic Park was shown, at that time the Jurassic Park series was popular so I decided to go for it.Half way across the movie I was disturbed by the person beside me, the loud sound of his snoring broke through the barriers of my earphones.

Some series of harsh turbulence also bothered me throughout the movie causing my cup of water to nearly spill.

It’s been an hour and a half of continuous turbulence and finally the flight attendants told us that dinner service would commence.

The menu I’d chosen was a slightly marinated chunk of smoked salmon.

After the dinner service the meal trays were cleared and the lights were turned off to allow the passengers onboard to take a quick nap.Since I’d just drank a full cup of red wine I couldn’t sleep.

Also, the man sitting next to me kept on snoring and snoring.

I stood up to find an empty seat but the whole cabin was packed like canned tuna.

Just as I was going to fall into a dream, I was awakened by the breakfast service.

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Breakfast was omelette and bacon followed o with a cup of chocolate milk.

I took a glance outside the window and looked at the majestic atmosphere.

The sky was bright blue and soon we were cruising near the Pacific Ocean just over Asia.

We were passing by the fascinating views of the Indonesian Islands which made me almost faint because the landscape of the islands was truly mind-blowing.

But after ten minutes the whole situation turned upside down. The sky turned all black and there were no trace of any light or even a single flash of a luminous source.

Because of this sudden mishap, I took a look at the inflight tracking system and found out that the aircraft was just over the Mariana Trench, famous for its destructive thunderstorms and tsunami’s.

Moments later, the captain made a remark that there will be a long sequence of heavy turbulence over the flight plan.

In front of me was the personal television and it was broadcasting CNN breaking news and as soon as I saw what was written on the headlines I… The thoughts in my mind were unbearable: “Plane crashed off the Maria..…

Boom!

The grievous sound of the flashing thunder bolts knocked the plane up and down.

For a few seconds all of the inflight entertainment system went blank and the whole cabin was dark.

The aircraft was rumbling and shaking like it was tossed down a steep hill.

I took a quick look out the window and what I saw was unbelievable.

The wing was covered in a sort of indescribable electric coating and the leading edge of the wing seemed to be cracked.

In the cabin I started to smell an odor, something I’ve never smelt before, something burnt and flammable.

Was it Aviation f… Creek… my sentence was disordered because the ride was as bumpy as riding a gyrodrop continuously going up and down.

My lungs were uncontrollable. It was getting really hard to breathe and I think the pilot was trying to get the plane to a higher altitude so we could cross over the thunderstorm.

As the plane kept on continuously trying to get over the rough weather conditions there was a loud” Boom!” that seemed like a part of the plane had collapsed.

My body was feeling more and more painful due to the lack of oxygen, I tried to press the flight attendant call button but nothing happened.

I waited and waited, finally a nervous-looking attendant came by me and said: “Sir, we are in some dangerous weather situations, what could I do for you?”

I replied: “I just wanted a cup of mineral water.”

Then he replied back: “I'm genuinely sorry but we can’t serve any drinks.”

After this situation, I was really getting worried because since the beginning of the flight, the progress of the flight was very choppy and unstable.

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Minutes later, our aircraft was suddenly descending rapidly and I thought that we were going to crash into the Mariana Trench; my worst nightmare.

I gripped the arm rest strongly and prayed that if the plane was actually going to crash, I would survive.

Just when we're descending i felt some drops of liquid dripping behind me. The smell was horrendous, but it was a substance I had begun to smell a long time ago…

Fuel.

This moment my mind was only filled with thoughts that if the liquid that was dripping above my overhead baggage compartment was fuel, then our plane would explode mid- air and fall from the sky like a piece of a rocket.

Boom! Boom! Large gusts of air was rushing towards my face. I looked back and the rear of the aircraft had burst open,leaving the middle section still intact.

My seat rumbled and started shaking, I hear a few bolts coming off as soon as the impact smashed through our cabin.

In a blink of an eye, the side ripped open and a whole group of passengers was blown out like a cannon.

It just felt like there was a whole army of military missiles all targeting me and finally hitting the target.

The explosion felt like I was being sucked into the black hole.

Soon I was diving towards the earth and with no life jacket of parachute there would be no chance of survival.

I tried to close my eyes and think of something, like my family, my children, Sam and Willie.

The thought of my family made me sad that I couldn’t make it to even see them…

After five minutes, I looked around my surroundings and saw the front part of the airplane still intact but it felt like I was dropping down at the speed of light.

Underneath me, was the substantial size of the Pacific Ocean, but luckily there was a small island about two kilometres away.

I’d been drifting towards the ocean for around ten minutes and my eyes started watering with pain and it felt like there was vinegar being poured to my eyes.

The smell of burning flames and fuel was sensed when I was falling and I looked up again to search for the destroyed aircraft, but there was sign of it.

I couldn’t think of what happened just now and the past, all of a sudden, my inner core of my body stopped and was stuck by a flash of horror.

It was a fear so intense that my lungs stopped working, my heart stopped beating and my mind started to freeze.

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On the final seconds, I thought about the time I was getting ready to board the plane; there was a remark from the airport staff that the plane I was recently flying had a severe bird strike on the engines.

The cause of the accident was most likely done by a sudden explosion in the engines.

But I had no time to think of the cause because I was only metres above the ocean and my body went in a deep coma.

I could feel the impact on my body as I dived head first into the deep murky waters of the Pacific Ocean.

It was extremely difficult to breath due to the lack of oxygen in the air and I began drowning.

Then I soon realised that these last few seconds of the dive would be the last few seconds of my life.

Splash! It felt like my body was being pulled in all different sides. The water was ice cold maybe minus ten degrees. When I was about one hundred metres below the ocean my mind was shocked because there were big fractured pieces of the plane’s fuselage.

Then my head was above the ocean allowing air to quickly navigate through my dried lungs.

It took about five minutes for me to realise that there was hundreds of dead corpses floating around the ocean.

This scenario was exactly like the scene in the Titanic where everyone onboard the ship was frozen.

Almost like they were acting in a drama performance.

I swam about another fifteen minutes until I could see sightings of land.

I imagined the hot golden glazed sand, the wind blowing and having a great time.

When I arrived at the beach, I lay down at the shore side just waiting for somebody to find and pick me up.

But I soon realised that this was a deserted island with no civilization.

The surroundings of the island were filled with tropical plants and trees.

There were coconut trees, pineapples, and other great plants right in front of me.

Standing there in the island just reminded me of Summer.

I took time to lie down flat on the hot smooth surface of the sand. I slowly became pulled in by the fatigue and started closing my eyes; letting my body rest.

Everything in my mind was blank except for this one word, a word full of joy, a word that explains happiness, a word that is magical: Summer.

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Runaway Eunice Cho Buzz. Throb.

The alarm shrieks and almost instantly, I jump up horrified, seeing myself in reality once again.

Hesitating to make one fidget that might catch the eye of the nurse, I lie still in the middle of the cramped bunk and watch the edge of my blanket fold in fear, as her head turns slightly to my direction. I’m hoping that nothing makes me stand out from the rest of the boys sleeping in the room.

Here was never a safe place.

As soon as some of us seemed to have woken up, they force the rest of the children to all begin the day of labour. It’s only dawn and I don’t want to have the others suffer from the reality, more than they were threatened to.

I’m an orphan and I work 15 hours a day.

Or should I put it the other way… I work this much to be an orphan.

Just to be a poor, untamed kid with no parents.

Spending each day having the rich spoilt instructors playing dolls with my body, I seriously end every day swearing to myself that —I’ve had enough. I am a boy teenage model because apparently I have the appearance that they want so much. I have no freedom to impress anyone or to show off what—they say—I have.

My life consists of work, food, sleep and…dryness. I work for my soup alone and the freedom that I will one day reach.

It’s not worth living to barely stay alive.

*** “Laugh 49!

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My name is Tyler. It’s one word my parents said, but no one knows me as my name.

Here I am number 49 and I’m required to be happy.

Laughing 49. Nothing more, nothing less.

I guess… just nothing more.

Ironically, they use a professional studio. Like yesterday, I was standing in front of a white temporary wall with blue backlight flashing through from the back. I saw my shadow stretch into the darkness where the photoshoot team and the camera guys stare at me with cold eyes. They held their hands up for directions and the hawky eyes followed my every movement from head to feet. The professionals inspected me for all my body aspects including posture, atmosphere, acting and emotions…really, they cared for my emotions.

I do photo shoots for free. I am an orphan, and the adults say I must do it for the price of shelter that they provide for us. The reward for modelling and acting for 15 hours each day is my cracking bunk bed, cold soup and two sandwiches.

The adults of our orphanage favored me for my rare blue- green eyes. Especially in a place full of starving kids, they selected me for my fit, lean body. Before I was cast for the modelling business, a few doctors picked me to study my DNA to use for future genetic modelling. Although I have spent all my life in a small town, they told me that I was actually a very good European mixed blood…

Like I was a dog.

So like a dog, I plan to run away. *** The children force themselves out of the tiny bunks and heavily reach out to the bundle of daytime uniforms stacked in the middle of the room. The colors are distressed and murky, as if they sympathize our own dark trails in our minds. Along with me, the boys hastily push into the scratchy fabric, revealing their thin, deficient body as they change into the uniforms.

Uniforms. I don’t think it’s the most suitable word for the pieces of recycled garbage that the orphanage provides.

Seriously. What do they do with all the money from the government? They need to be aware.

We line up feebly in our deformed slippers. There’s about thirty or so of us in this room. There is no laughter—nor are there any conversations—in such morning, we simply grew tired of deliberately making excuses to be happy. When I first arrived here, I thought things would get better. But did they?

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I stand near the end of the line of boys, gazing into mid space just like most of them there. Maybe they’re all thinking about their poor fortune like me. Or planning to run away. But I better not cause any suspicion or leak the signs of plan because it won’t happen if the modelling team finds out. Plus, what is there for me to prepare with?

For the first time, I am pleased that I have no belongings to keep in mind. It’s just me and my so marvelous body.

In the midst of me drifting in my thoughts, suddenly, the door knob turns and the caretaker appears with a blank face. The cold surge of wind from the hallway travels rapidly along my spines. All of us, hanging in our drowsy grey clothes, naturally make our steady exit out the door. Like juvenile prisoners, we march into the long, shabby hallway, finally halting outside the kitchen.

As we all wait for the kitchen to open, we go outside. Our one, streamlined cabin doesn’t have any major doors separating the hallway from outside. I stand with the crowd of boys, surrounded by scrunches of untamed bushes. The orphanage sits crookedly in between this grassland and forest at some countryside.

Then I realize. There are no guards.

I decide to be extremely spontaneous.

Just before the adults appear in the kitchen, I silently spurt away into a dark corner of the bush across. The ground is thick and soggy from the rain last night, but I can manage crawling into the forest. I hide behind a tall oak tree and wait until the boys enter back into the kitchen. I’ve got to admit it’s disappointing, but no one seems to realize that I am not there anymore...

That’s when I saw the car.

Whoever it was, I called out for help. The same man dropped out of the truck and, with a heavy sigh and waited for me to approach. I was racing towards whatever was there, far away as possible from the orphanage, on that one-way road. I needed to stop the madness. I wasn’t afraid, of anything.

I’d die here trying. Like I always do.

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

I’m back in the orphanage.

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

Buzz. Throb.

The alarm shrieks and almost instantly, I jump up horrified and once again, I see myself in this reality...

Yesterday the car brought me back to the orphanage and today I wake up in the same bed with the same grey walls guarding me. Today will be the same as yesterday…

But I just can’t stop trying.

I couldn’t. For the past 4 years.

Like the 4 seasons, repeating itself... I’m just growing older.

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The Judgment Hyong Kim “Really, these lecture notes are truly well written,” remarked the eminent professor as he gazed down at his papers. Adjusting his glasses, he once more reminded himself of his outstanding intelligence and exceptional knowledge.

Arthur Hearst, Professor of Anthropology at the Imperial College, was a man on his mid- forties, but already with a touch of gray hair about his ears. He was a tall, robust well-built man with a shrewd mind and powerful acumen; he was well known for his sharp, penetrating eyes gazing into a recent paper, exam, or the face of another person that reminded one of an eagle that was ready to suddenly jump on its prey any moment. This phlegmatic look was so effective that it was enough to silence any undergraduate class in less than a second.

He was not what one would call an amiable character - he was often acrimonious and dominant in arguments, and despised anybody who would “dare” to counter his opinion.

His little office-room in the department of Anthropology was always clean and kept tidy, and the vast volumes and copies were always in the right place, with the clean-shaven occupant adding the finishing touch to this absolute perfection.

He rarely spent time outside; his sole interest was anthropology, the study to which he devoted hundreds of hour every week. Owing to this zest, Professor Hearst was a renowned man in the department, and even his worst critics had to admit that his lectures were outstanding.

Outside, spring was in full progress. Flowers sprang out of infinitesimally miniscule buds and boasted their brilliant petals of every colour. Butterflies KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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hovered joyfully over the flower mounds. The verdant greens burgeoned and bloomed, stirring out of the winter’s frozen sleep and now striving in Spring’s soft breath of life. A gentle breeze blew gracefully throughout the hills, and early birds on treetops sang with utmost glee. All was sweet and wondrous; peaceful under the touch of morning’s radiant sun.

The professor, however, paid no attention whatsoever to this spring scenery. He sighed with satisfaction as he leant back comfortably, and for perhaps the thirteenth time let his gaze drop on to the opening remarks of his notes for his will-be first lecture of the 2021 Undergraduate anthropology.

Despite the fact that the history of the planet Earth accounts for more than 4.5 billion years, and the existence of the species Homo sapiens sapiens has seen less than a million years, humanity has ruled and reigned over the world ever since its very appearance.

Though at first no more than a slightly advanced group of primates, mankind, resourcefully implementing its vast cranium capacity, gradually outsmarted every other species that chanced to rival its fate, and soon came to be the wisest and most intelligent beings on Earth, hence its name Homo sapiens sapiens, which means ‘wise, wise men’ in Latin.

Today, when some 9 billion individuals cover the face of our globe, human beings are the true one and only predominant rulers of the planet…

The professor smiled to himself. Yes, his lecture was an absolute exemplar in the course of teaching human studies. After all, was not humanity the greatest of all species? Did not human beings possess incomparable intelligence and knowledge succeeded by none? Had not humanity dominated Earth and all its fauna and flora for the past thousands of years? Was it not only righteous that mankind deserved the title of the ruler of the planet?

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contemplating on this subject, as he often did. As he dozed off into a profound trance, his imagination became greater, and his dreams wilder Until he abruptly disengaged himself from his fantasy, deciding to return to his temporarily-ignored document, and, instead, found himself, seated in a defendant’s seat, facing a full-fledged court.

But before he ventured to wonder at the reason he sat in this seat, the nature of this court puzzled him: instead of the regular murmur that the audience naturally generates, there were boisterous disquietude of most inhumane cacophony - bellows, squeaks, caws, roars, squeaks, buzzes, and other indistinguishable yet ear-piercing sounds.

He gazed around and saw the courthouse bustling with every form of life on Earth he could imagine: from the most intellectual of primates to the lowliest of bacteria. Antagonism seemed to be non‐existent among the realm ‐ the cat and the dog sat shoulder to shoulder, while the lion sprawled peacefully next to a pack of African Gazelles. They were intently chatting amongst themselves, and occasionally pointed at him, their attention apparently reserved solely for none other than Professor Hearst himself.

It took him a split second to realize that the court was not hosted by human beings, but by all the rest of those who inhabit Earth: animals, plants, fungi, and even bacteria - the very ones whom he had so despised! The bare fact that he, Professor Arthur Hearst of Anthropology, was to be judged by none other than these subordinate inferiors - and for what, anyway? -

But there was no doubting the obvious truth ‐ the proud professor was facing a complete magistrate court. Twelve brown‐furred horses stood intently on all fours in the jury‐box, each with a pen in mouth ready for taking notes. A pack of robust bears, doubtless of tremendous strength, were positioned equally throughout the room to maintain order. A slick black panther served as the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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court clerk, while an orangutan, stretching its ambidextrous hands and feet, sat at the court reporter’s table with a typewriter in front of him, somewhat ameliorated to accommodate the operation of quadrupeds.

The supreme judge was an elderly‐looking chimpanzee who, having glared over stern glasses down at Professor Hearst with astute, penetrating eyes, cleared his throat, cried for order (at which the raucous commotion of the hall instantly died into profound silence) and, in an authoritative and imperious tone, began: “Honourable committee and distinguished guests, I would like to pay gratitude to every one of you for gathering at this meeting. Indeed, it is in accordance to this unprecedented issue in the history of our lives that I have summoned for this conference in such hurry.

“The important matter at stake is namely that of humans ‐ or, more specifically, their general conduct and behaviour in this universe. Though the greater part of fellow friends present here have existed for innumerable years, our two‐legged descendents have trodden the face of the Earth for but a few tens of thousands of years, and then again inconspicuously until a few millenia years ago.

And as outrageous as it is, it is none other than they who consider themselves to be the prominent ruler of this planet.

“Brethren, I ask of you, pray, what special features does a human possess?

Does it have the salient claws of our cat family, or the powerful strength of our ursus friends, or the colossal mass of our tusked elephants? Does it have the speediest legs of the antelopes that canter through the Savannahs, or the agility of a squirrel dashing up a tree? Does it have the wings to soar high up into the sky, or the fins to swim in the deepest fathoms of the seas?

“Nay, brethren, they seldom do! They have not the coat of fur to warm themselves against cold, but viciously rob us of ours and adorn themselves in the most unworthy fashion.

They seldom produce their own food as our flora cousins do, but butcher our KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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flesh and devour it boorishly ‐ and charred from fire, too, for they cannot digest raw meat as we do.

They have not sharp teeth nor keen claws to rely upon their survival, but use guns and knives to decimate us morbidly. Their flesh are weak, and are ripped and punctured at the tiniest pricks of a thorny vine. Their cries are but trifles in comparison to the mighty vociferation of the lion, and yet their tones are the most lascivious adulations that disguise vile malice for honesty and goodwill.

And, worst of all, they murder each other for land and wealth which by right belongs to every living thing alike. Such is the true face of mankind, whose young, worse‐than‐senseless, ill‐equipped, and cunning race is opt to rule over us and force their outright ancestors to submission.

“The sins of humanity stretch so far and abound that I cannot possibly list them all at this gathering, so pray pardon me of my prolonged harangue when I have appealed to the Spirits of the Four Seasons” ‐ discordant murmur in the audience‐ “to testify the hitherto unspoken deeds of men; and on that note I shall yield to the first spirit the floor.”

At the very utterance of such word, a sudden stroke of cool breeze blew into the court. Along with it was thrown a faint, foggy flash of green light that began sprouting into existence into a larger and larger body. The hazy glow slowly moulded itself into a misty silhouette, that eventually proved to be a tall figure.

The Spirit of Spring could be described, in a single word, as ‘lushness itself.’

The spirit’s skin was of a pale green hue, his livery an interlace of verdurous vines and herbs. A wreath of verdant flowers of all shapes, colours and sizes adorned the spirit’s neck. His crown was woven of fresh Acacia branches decorated with crisp Irises and Hyacinths. A braid of cherry blossoms veiled his back and fell over his waist, while a prim Lily of the Valley flourished at his ears. He seemed to generate a warm and balmy atmosphere that surrounded the gaunt figure with an amiable fragrance that seemed to pacify any quarrels or disputes.

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His countenance was tranquil and florid, and yet seemed to wear a mask of forlorn melancholy. His glance slowly cursored through the audience and his gaze finally coming to gently rest on Professor Hearst, he spoke in a rich, soft voice: “I am the Spirit of Spring: the bringer of warmth and hospitality; the whisperer of the breath of life; the efflorescence of flowers and the yawn of moving creatures who were locked in perpetual sleep of ice; the gentle whiff of flutter that stirs the willows; the gentle Herald of Jollity and Mirth. While I fervently breathe liveliness and soul into verdure and creatures abound, humans show ingratitude by repeatedly impeding my work, and even destroying what I have finished and completed.

“Humans defy nature in the most unthinkable ways. They carelessly uproot my flowers, who have withstood the tyrannical winter to welcome spring and flourish in warmness, to plunge them into vases and decorate their interior.

Perchance they wither or dessicate (and such is the majority of cases) they simply hurl them out and uproot new ones to take their place, inexplicably asserting their meagre respect for souls. They set fire to my forests for farmland, and seldom care to replace what they have incinerated. They make lame excursions out to mountains and hills and valleys, and trample to death the burgeoning grass, bramble and foliage, and crush the numerous insects who have just stirred from their long winter’s sleep. And they choose the first flat turf they see to sit and have what they call ‘picnics’ and voraciously feast on food they have brought ‐ and leave promptly, rendering my land strewn with their junk and rubbish.

“Spring is the time when their great hunting begins. Because their legs are not agile enough, they board their metal vehicles to outrun the fastest of my creatures. Because their cavities lack fangs, and their limbs talons and claws, they cheat nature by devising annihilative weapons to hunt them down mercilessly.

They then skin them with grisly knives and machetes in the most gruesome KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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ways, savagely lacerate their intestines and livers, strip every bit of meat off their bones, before carelessly throwing the bones into their waste piles.

I have witnessed countless species meeting their unduly ends and being wiped out as a result to human avarice, and still more on the verge of extinction. The cat family are hunted for their hide; elephants and rhinoceroses, for their ivory; minks, for their coat, sharks, for their fins; leatherback turtles, for their so‐called ‘delicious’ flesh; pangolins, for their scales, which humans use as ingredients for medicine. I have sufficient reasons to believe that at current rates of poaching none of these species will survive to see the next century. Nine out of ten they will meet the same fate as that of Passenger Pigeons, Dodo birds, Baiji White Dolphins, and Tasmanian Tigers ‐ all taken a journey ne’er to return again, eradicated by the rapacious enterprise of men.

“Now, those who shelter in forests and dwell on land ‐ speak honestly and truly before nature: am I to tolerate all this? Am I to watch my flowers and greens, who rightly deserve their golden days under the sun, be ruthlessly run over under tyrannical tramples? Am I to allow my tall, vast forests, veiled in cool breezes and stretching over mountains and across plains, to be demolished in the monstrous flower of flame? Am I to let my animals, exulting in rejoice amongst the verdure, be at mercy of these stone‐hearted, worse‐ than‐senseless creatures, whose evil conduct are endangering the lives of all of you?

“Honourable judge, respected jury, and esteemed guests, I beseech that you will unanimously decide to have them taste their medicine ‐ to exterminate them off the face of this world, just as they have exterminated their fellow companions of nature to their will ‐ and make haste, for only by the efface of their existence on this planet will our world be relieved of a demonic presence, and my greatly disturbed mind be pacified. And now I yield the floor to brother Summer, who succeeds me in right of vociferation by the season’s law.”

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Upon that word, the cool breeze which had previously heralded the entrance of the spirit returned. The Spirit of Spring bowed in front of the gathering, cloaked himself in a haze of green light, and was swept away along with the gust of wind.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

No sooner than was this soft draft gone a powerful gust of gale pranced into the hall. The tempest roared and howled and puffed and thundered, and gave such a blast that it knocked everyone to the ground.

When Professor Hearst gained his hold (but not without a lamenting glance at his ruined tweed suit), and sat back down, there, before his eyes, amidst the violent chaos of thunder and storm, stood the Spirit of Summer. He was clad in a garment that seemed to be woven from a coarse textile of dark blue encrusted with seashells of every colour and shape. He wore a long, braided turquoise beard clamped with knots of seaweed,that resembled the beard in every way that Professor Hearst could not tell one from another.

In his right hand held a shard of lightning that illuminated the entire hall with a sea of bright light. Having dismissed the storm with a wave of his hands, standing amidst the hazy curtain of thick, grey mist with which the spirit’s entire stature seemed to be enwrapped in, the spirit towered over the professor, glaring down at him fiercely with lightning‐ridden eyes. His voice seemed to echo from a long distance, and boomed and tremored like thunder.

“I am the Spirit of Summer: the torrid sun that glints on sand, basks the land,and sparkles and shimmers on water; the long expanse of vast ocean that stretches across the horizon; the mighty sea storms that raze the seas with heavy gale; the mighty thunderclouds that pound the earth below with watery bombardments; the time of growth and flourish for all those who swim in water and roam on land. I have heard the story of my brother Spring, and how his plants and animals suffer from men’s cruel desire to hunt, and the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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carelessness of the welfare of others. However, what he lay his complaints on seems naught when compared with what I lay my complaints on; hear me, then, and I will say what I must say.

“Now, I do not say humans have no right to traverse my seas ‐ every life on this planet retains that privilege. But by thundering typhoons, he is thrice a liar who asserts that they swim leisurely along with the waves, stroll peacefully on the seabeds, and live the life all marine lives are content with.

They know their flesh and bones are not accustomed to floating, so they have come up with contrivances known as ‘ships.’ On these floating platforms they are happy; if perchance they should fall overboard they lose control of themselves, and sink into the deep blue sea amongst cries of terror. If they are careful not to fall over, they drive these platforms at dangerously high speeds, and daily innumerable children of the sea are killed by this stampede ‐ to which, of course, they pay little attention.

Their ships exhale such pitch‐black smoke that poisons the atmosphere and all my sea birds. And if their clumsy control dashes their platforms into rocks or cliffs ‐ or against each other ‐ , why, what else flows out from them but the black, nauseating liquid that darken the clearest of seas and sicken the liveliest of animals? Then, if their ship is one of the larger kind filled with many different commodities of every shape and size, these items all flow out onto the sea and are mistaken for food by my fish, and end their lives in great agony.

“To make it worse, humans drive out in smaller platforms to ruthlessly kidnap my animals from their leisurely swim with nets and spikes of every kind, and take them to the land so that these sea‐borne animals cannot resist, and thence brutally murder and devour them as food.

None can escape this fate; only an infinitesimally small fraction of the kidnapped animals ‐ apparently the most charming and intriguing in the eyes of humans, when all animals are born equally ‐ are taken to containers filled with seawater to resemble the environment of the ocean, and there are destined to live as an exhibition to humans, and die before long of horrible, KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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inexplicable ailments.

Furthermore, humans dig deep into the seabeds with gargantuan mechanisms called “drills,” and reveal various minerals they deem as extremely valuable; these minerals they dig out by means of fixed platforms even larger than the moving platforms ‐ planted in the seabed no matter how deep it is, and almost immovable by the strongest of my waves.

“But all of these outrageous acts, what I deem as the worst of the worst is how unappreciative humans are of nature. My job as spirit beckons me to smite the seas with storms and gales, in order to commingle the hot air separated from the cold, and knead the water of oceans round the world.

My animals know by instinct when a squall is coming, and dive deep into their hideaways to escape injury ‐ which is a wise judgement, for the merging of the seas and the sky requires the most powerful of storm that can often be destructive. But humans, having neither the knowledge for the instinct to foresee a storm, ignorantly sail out to the sea on their good‐for‐nothing platforms, and are smashed to smithereens by the wind and the waves.

Thousands die every year because of their own ignorance; those who escape with horrible wounds bear deep enmity towards me, and forever loath the sea. They blame not themselves, but a phenomenon that is perfectly natural of this world.

“Brethren, regardless of what others may think, I declare that what I have said is already proof enough that the humans clearly lack the goodness and virtue that all lives on this Earth ought to possess. There is but one way to put a firm end to their nauseating conduct in th, and that is their complete extermination. The word should but be given, and the most deadly of my storms and the most powerful of my tsunamis will deluge all their dwellings on this planet. And when the storms and waves have subsided, and all trace of mankind wiped out ‐ only then will we find true peace and harmony again.”

As the last word was on the spirit’s tongue, a colossal thunder bolt hit the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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centre of the hall, accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning. The thunder was so powerful and the lightning so bright; Professor Hearst, with a cry of pain, dropped to his knees and covered his ears and eyes. When the professor, after a few minutes that seemed like aeons, cautiously raised his head, the Spirit of Summer was gone.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

No sooner than was this soft draft gone a powerful gust of gale pranced into the hall. The tempest roared and howled and puffed and thundered, and gave such a blast that it knocked everyone to the ground. When Professor Hearst gained his hold (but not without a lamenting glance at his ruined tweed suit), and sat back down, there, before his eyes, amidst the violent chaos of thunder and storm, stood the Spirit of Summer. He was clad in a garment that seemed to be woven from a coarse textile of dark blue encrusted with seashells of every colour and shape. He wore a long, braided turquoise beard clamped with knots of seaweed, that resembled the beard in every way that Professor Hearst could not tell one from another. In his right hand held a shard of lightning that illuminated the entire hall with a sea of bright light. Having dismissed the storm with a wave of his hands, standing amidst the hazy curtain of thick, grey mist with which the spirit’s entire stature seemed to be enwrapped in, the spirit towered over the professor, glaring down at him fiercely with lightning‐ridden eyes. His voice seemed to echo from a long distance, and boomed and tremored like thunder.

“I am the Spirit of Summer: the torrid sun that glints on sand and I shall strike with great vengeance and furious anger upon those who would attempt to poison and destroy their own brothers. And they will then know my name is Almighty Winter when I lay my vengeance upon them.

“Greed ‐ yes, greed, for I cannot find a word that better defines this race ‐ drives them to hamper at the nature, which in vain provides them with every KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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commodity and food they should desire, and thence receives such outrageous treatment in return.

As I wish to desecrate my tongue no further by decanting over their unspoken deeds, I declare justice passed.

May they be treated as they would treat us!

Cold Soo-min Tark So cold. Everything is so cold. Everything. So cold. Everything is white. All I see is white. White on the ground, and white falling from the sky. Everything is freezing.

The ground is freezing, the sky is freezing. My vision is getting blurry. I’m dying. I don’t know how much more I can take. So cold…

I still remember the time when I was just a little hatchling. I was born here. I guess I’m going to die here as well. Oh well. I learned to fly here. Looks like this is the last place I’m going to fly. Oh well.

Spring is a beautiful season. Mainly because it’s the season I was born in.

Obviously. When I was born, the first thing I ever did was cry. I cried and cried until my mom finally noticed. My mom has brown feathers and white streaks. Just like my dad used to have. My dad died when I was several months old. He was killed by a snake. Therefore, my mom had to take care of me and three other birds without the help of any other birds.

When I left my family, it was summer. I thought the world was one giant nest filled with different types of birds living in perfect harmony. But I was wrong. The world is everything but harmonious. The threat of death is constant. The forest is filled with predators waiting for me to make a mistake. They would devour me.

Especially that one snake. When I first saw it, it was chasing an injured bird. For some reason, the bird wasn’t flying. Then I saw that she was leaving a trail of blood behind her. She had been injured by the snake. But then I realized something else.

That snake. There’s something familiar about the way it moves. The patterns on its back. I’ve seen it before. But where?

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I needed to know. I flew down and landed between the snake and the bird. At first, the snake ignored me. Then, he looked at me and his eyes widened. Who knew snakes could do that. "Do I know you?" I asked the snake. He laughed.

"Of course you do. I killed your father." Well, that escalated quickly.

Then, the snake lunged at me.

As the snake lunged, everything slowed down. I saw the venom drip from its teeth and the muscles on its body tense and release. Then everything speed up again.

I raised my wing and swatted the snake away. The snake hissed.

“You're fast. But are you fast enough?”

Before the snake could do whatever it was going to do, I flew up into the air and landed on a branch. The snake hissed and started to climb the tree. I had to think fast. How would I kill this snake? Or could I even kill it? The snake was halfway up the tree. What could I do? I need more time. I leapt off the branch and flew to another tree.

Now I had some time to think. How am I going to survive this fight? I could try to land on it but the snake would probably expect that. What would the snake not expect?

I jumped off the branch and landed on the ground. The snake looked at me and hissed. It slowly crawled its way towards me. Right before it reached me, I reached out with my claws and grabbed its head. The snake started to thrash and strike me with its tail. I squeezed its head until it stopped moving.

That’s why I’m here.

I came home to celebrate the death of my father’s killer but it looks like I’m the one doing all the dying here. That’s funny. I mean, it’s not really funny in the normal way but you know what I mean. Anyway, when I got home, all that greeted me was snow. Lots of snow. I looked around everywhere for my mom but she was KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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nowhere to be found. Only then did I start panicking. When I started panicking, the cold overwhelmed me. It was the only thing I could think about. Then, the wind started blowing. It was so cold. A gust of wind threw me off the branch. Everything turned black…

Now I’m here. Maybe I’ll survive. Maybe I’ll die. Who knows what the future holds?

Unfulfilled Promise Katherine Oh I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can hear their cheers behind the curtains… waiting for the clock to struck 9… waiting for me to come out.

… Ding-dong…ding-dong…ding-dong

It is time. Opening my eyes I see the maids opening the curtains. They look at me with big smiles and… admiration. Slowly, walking towards the balcony, I squint a bit because of the bright sunlight, but quickly put on a mask. The people shout out with joy as I come out and wave my hand for them.

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder. There was no need to check who it is… but I still look back and smile for the person again. An old man tall and well - built… my father, the King of Lindas. He has this proud face on his face and hugs me tightly, calling me “Dear Arianna, my love.”

Funny… seeing him act this way. I can laugh out loud. Haha! Pretending to care about me when you do not. Who was it that treated me like a useless object in my memories again? I wonder…

The reason everyone gathered in front of the castle’s doors is because today is special.

You could say it is like a holiday. It is a day to celebrate and remember the victory of Lindas over Halias - the end of a terrible long war. It is also a day where people praise me, calling me the Heroine of Lindas. The reason the King “loves” me now is because I ended the war and

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became an important figure of the Kingdom. Everyone practically loves this day and is happy… except me.

For me, this day brings pain, grief, regret, and guilt torments me. I didn’t deserve to be called a “Heroine”… not when… not when I made that choice that day….

I sign. I’m tired. Returning to my room I lie on the bed and try to sleep. With no dreams about him, I hope….

When I was 11, war broke out between the two mightiest kingdoms: the Kingdom of Lindas against the Kingdom of Halias. These two had a bad relationship since a long time ago and had an almost equal amount of strength. So when war started, it destroyed everything.

Things were so bad that even the young princess went and helped out with the commoners – wearing similar clothing with them, but this time, clothes were stained with mud and blood.

One day, a Princess went to pick flowers for the graves. She had golden blond hair that reached her waist and sapphire blue eyes that went well together with her cream colored skin.

She was indeed pretty… but it was her smile that people wanted to see because her smile could light up the heart of a dying person. But her father, the King did not like that she was a girl. He always wished for a prince and regarded the Princess as if she was only useful when marrying into some other royal family. He never looked at her properly… not even once.

The girl ran and ran to the forest without looking too much at her surroundings. Even though it was near the border of the two kingdoms, war was on hold to recover from their casualties. Everywhere on the ground were dead bodies of dead people, both soldiers and nonsoldiers. Many were rotting, some where without their heads, many sliced and stabbed…. She still couldn’t get used to it even though it’s been a year since the war started. The sight of them made her stomach feel tangled and tears well up.

The scene changes… now the girl is hiding with a boy. He has golden hair just like her but much shorter and deep green eyes. He had just saved her from soldiers of Halias. He is two years older than her. The Princess hid the fact that she was a princess from him… well he didn’t look like one either so it was fine. From years of separation from her age group, she wanted to make even one friend around her age.

Now a series of memories start to show but only as short clips. In the early clips the girl and boy are giggling and laughing… they did not know they were from enemy kingdom, they did not care. The two children just hide from other peoples’ sight, mostly from soldiers of Halias, and secretly played together. They are happy… not knowing their fates will bring them pain….

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Later in a clip the girl has just turned 13 and the boy 15… but the girl is crying. From the latest attack, her mother, the Queen was killed. She cries and cries… she cannot stop even though the boy is trying to comfort her pain. She didn’t notice that much at that time, but he had a grim face even after she stopped crying. He was lost in his thoughts, hesitating… then looks determined even though the pain on his face didn’t go away. The boy makes a promise with the girl. A promise to stop this deadly war no matter what it takes…. Hearing this, she promises that too.

It was a promise that could not have been kept; that disappeared unfulfilled….

The scene changes again and the relationship is broken. As always the Princess went to meet him. She waited and waited, but the boy never came….

Memories flow and 4 years passed. The Princess trained and trained to become a warrior and fight in the war too. She became the highest-ranking person in the military. Calm, composed, and strong… the young girl with pure innocence was gone. The cold gaze and sharp eyes looked as if it could pierce through you to see what is inside. She was cold as winter.

Time passes again… and this part was a memory that she wanted to get rid of but remembered the most and actually heard the voices….

The battle went on and their last battle was going on inside the main castle of Halias. In the clip the Princess runs in a courtroom alone and runs into a guy there with his sword out. His appearance and outfit indicated that he was a prince. When she looked more closely, the Princess gasped. Recognition ran through her … it was him… the person standing in front of her was the boy from 4 years ago. ‘But this… can’t be…’ she thought. The Princess was unsure but still called out to him, “Erik? Is that you?”

The boy was started and turned his face to look at her. Then, his face grew pale.

“Arianna?” he said with a trembling voice. They were both from the royal family of each kingdom: a princess and a prince… and both hid the fact away from each other. Now they finally saw each other.

But it’s too late now… there’s no turning back now…. None of us could stop. We came too far.

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I can’t really think from this point on. The two are exchanging blows from each other.

They can’t stop fighting each other. One of them must fall in order for everything to come to an end. But… neither of the two is wiling to fight each other. Their hearts were grieving, shouting out in pain.

The Princess shouts out “Return our stolen kingdom! Return our stolen future!” and angrily the Prince answers “I am! I will fulfill our promise!”

They were both trying to keep the promise… it was only that the way they did this were different.

The two continued to just look at each other, thinking. They were both unwavering. But when tears started to overflow from the Princess’ face, the Prince flinched and his expression softened. The Princess then screamed and lunged towards him trying to stab him.

He did not move.

No resistance, no scream, nothing…. The sword went through his chest with just a grunt.

Blood was spilling out rapidly from the wound. The Princess was horrified. She repeatedly asked “Why?” to him.

Coughing out blood, he did not answer but hugged her tightly whispering to her “I’m… sorry…” before falling.

The dream ended. Waking up, I wipe the tears from my face. I can’t afford to stay in the past. He wouldn’t want me to be like this. I wash my face and then joining the people I smile for me…

And for him too.

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The Light at the End of the Tunnel Maya Lycett Spring-a month of joy, birth and happiness. Children are playing and the heat is coming back after a long and dark winter. At least that’s what I thought. I guess I was wrong all these years…

Yes, I can still remember the memories as a little girl. Spring... when my mother and I would make flower crowns and fresh lemonade, picking flower buds- putting them in a pot and watching them grow into beautiful, tall, and radiant flowers. After the grass has been cut it creates the most wonderful smell. It will never be the same.

“Lyana?!”

I still hear her soft, velvet voice ringing from the garden. I was able to tell her expression just by the sound of her voice- never again will I hear that beautiful sound…

My father! A sticky topic! I was never able to think about my father without feeling rage, pain and sorrow. To think that at the age of 16 you should still be in school but not for my dad, he was failing all his classes and he didn’t care at all about his education. I really don’t know what my mother saw in him. The typical irresponsible 16 year old - that is what my dad was! I never saw his face or heard him talk because once I was born he left and just disappeared. Just as he had done to his parents. He

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left them heartbroken! The mysterious man that was my dad had no family as he left home at the age of 10.

I used to get along perfectly with my mum. She used to teach me about people like my father and not to be thrown off by them. Now that there is no one here I feel the need to meet anyone, just someone who can accompany me.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. It was like a light at the end of a never ending tunnel but it did end. Toby is a young handsome man with a twist. He is different from anyone else. He is unique. He has Down Syndrome.

I remember when I first saw him. I was looking out my bedroom window and he was down walking on the street. He then looked up at my window. It was from that moment that I knew he was unique. I had never seen him before but he seemed to almost know me because from then on every day in the morning precisely at 10AM he walks past my window and waves to me…

He is the one who has made a difference in my world just by one 5 second wave accompanied by the biggest smile.

His smile is able to brighten my world...

Your smile is a beautiful smile It comes straight from your heart Your smile shines like a ray of light The love concealed in it tears me apart

Your smile is shows in your eyes It’s pure and joyful to see Your smile brightens up my life Its as pure as love just for me KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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Your smile can brighten my darkest day Your smile can take my pain away Your smile throws me off the ground Your smile which is forever implanted in my mind

You smile at me and I am thrown over At how it changes your face Such love and joy and happiness Such care and warmth

Your smile can take me through the darkest nights Your smile makes me cope with horrible fights Your smile does so much you see Your smile is full of joy just for me

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God Save the Queen Abraham Choi “Red Alert! Red Alert! CCTV down in Trafalgar Square! ” Detective John Oakland shouted through the radio. Detective Jake Singleton was at his office half asleep in his chair when the call came through. He sighed, wiped his eyes, grabbed his coat and said back through the radio, “Coming sir.”

“Run boy.” John urged as Jake slowly climbed out of the car. It was a cold and gloomy winter, and to make it worse it was raining. It was simply just the miserable weather you don’t want. Jake mumbled to himself and then started following Detective Oakland. Jake caught up with John at the scene and looked at him. His face was white as a ghost. He could see a terror and sadness that he had never seen before.

Wondering what it was, Jake then turned around to the horror that was before him.

Ripped apart in the fountain, in the middle of the popular Trafalgar Square, was a woman who was unrecognisable as a human. The whole fountain and the water was dyed in a crimson red.

Jake had heard about these killings in London before. They had been going on for the past 5 years without an arrest or a suspect to investigate. The murderer was called the Landmark Killer. He was a top target on the police’s most wanted and was doing this for over 5 years. He had read a newspaper of the one of the killings before and could clearly remember the title, ‘Woman, 24, found murdered in Westminster Abbey.’

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It was early morning and it was still heavily raining. Detective John and Detective Jake were still working on the case. Jake was trying to keep warm, which was impossible since rain was constantly battering down on him. Jake thought to himself; why did John get so frightened when he saw the woman (now declared as a Laura King). Normally he was a loud and proud kind of person but the sight of the murder changed him into sort of a scared child.

“Stop daydreaming boy!” John shouted over the rain, Jake snapped out of his thoughts and started helping John in finding evidence. *************** It was Jake’s rest day today but he was very curious about what happened with John at the scene. He planned to go to the DO to investigate on John. When Jake was young he had always been a very curious boy who always asked why to almost any statement. This curiosity led him into the detective business.

Jake arrived at the Detective Office, it was still dull and freezing outside so he wanted to get inside quickly. He went to his computer and searched up John Oakland on the city database and then found John’s file. Ex-policeman, became a detective 7 years ago, successful in all cases he had been assigned to except the Landmark Killer wait though… He had a wife and daughter! John didn’t say much about his personal life but he did tell him that he never got married or had children. Sara Oakland, deceased, Lily Oakland, deceased. Oh. That’s why he never told me. How did they die though? Jake kept digging into the files; both murdered 5 years ago - by… the Landmark Killer!

Next day, John came bustling into the office, “Everyone!”

Everyone looked at him including Jake.

“We are going to find this damn guy now and make him sorry for what he has done, it’s about time we find him. He’s killing too many men and women. He’s killed 8 women and 2 men in the past 3 months. I’ve asked the chief and he has agreed for you all to work on this case and this case alone. So, everyone, let’s get to work!”

John came over to Jake, “Oi, boy! We need to get some leads.”

“Excuse me sir. Detective Oakland, I have a letter for you.” said Emma Yield, the DO receptionist.

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“Who’s it from?” asked John.

“It came with no address or name.”

John received the letter and opened it in a hurry. John gulped, all the colour from his face drained away.

“What is it sir?” asked Jake quite worried.

Detective Oakland handed over the letter with a shaking hand, Jake grabbed it and read it: ‘Hello, Jonathan. Do you like my work? I know you’ve failed in catching me for the past 5 years. Am I right? Anyway, to make this a bit easier for you, let’s play a game, I’ll give you a puzzle to solve and it will provide you with some clues to where my next person will be, you know. “My inspiration to do this comes from this man, there is a particular place where he is remembered.” This probably isn’t enough for you so I’ll give you a clue. Use my name.

I will be here 17/12/2014 12am LK.’ After lunch, John gathered everyone in the office.

“Any possible leads?”

“Umm yes sir.” said Francis Draymore, “Well, I was digging into the city archives when I found a file on a man named Philip Ray, who was arrested 10 years ago in London for trying to rip apart a teenage boy, 18, in Globe Theatre. You arrested him sir.”

“I forgot. What happened to him?” asked Detective Oakland.

“He was sentenced to life in prison for attempted murder but escaped from HM Prison Full Sutton when the CCTV and cell system got hacked.” replied Francis “Any addresses or traces of where he is now?”

“He somehow completely disappeared of all the databases 7 years ago.”

“Where did he live before?”

“He lived in Flat 502, floor 22, flat number 2201, Moor District, South London, John walked over to Jake, “Jake, work on the puzzle thing, I’m going to visit the flat.”

“Okay sir.”

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John arrived at the flat and rang the bell.

The door opened, “Hi, there.” said an old woman.

“Hello, ummm… Miss Cole, I am Detective Oakland from the Scotland Yard.” said John as he showed his badge, “I would like to know if you remember the person who lived here before.”

“Well, that was 7 years ago. By the way, come on in.”

John walked in and was told to sit on the sofa, he was later then presented by a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits. “Thank you” said John.

Miss Cole sat down, “I can’t remember who he was exactly but he was in a rush to leave to be honest with you. I think he was a man in his late 20’s or early 30’s,” she said as she scratched her head.

“Do you happen to know where he moved to?” asked John eager to know more.

“Hmmmmm… wait - I think I do. When he was leaving in his car with his stuff, I glanced into the window to say bye when I saw the destination on the Sat Nav, it was somewhere south east London. It was a warehouse at Joey’s Freight Yard or something like that. I think that’s all I’ve got though. By the way detective, what is this for?”

“We think he might be tied to the Landmark Killer.” John replied.

“Oh goodness.”

“Thank you for your time Miss Cole.” said John as he stood up from the sofa, “And the coffee.”

As soon as John walked into the office, he was met immediately by Jake, “Sir, I think I’ve worked it out!” he exclaimed.

“I need to get a search warrant for a warehouse in Joey’s Freight Yard. Could we speak about this later?” said John.

“No sir, it’s urgent.” said Jake.

“What is it?” said John with an impatient tone in his voice.

“Do you know how he said my inspiration in the letter?”

“Yes…” “And he said use my name.”

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“What you trying to get at?”

“His name is the Landmark Killer right? So, this lead me to think his inspiration is a killer. Which killer ripped up people like he does? Jack the Ripper.”

“Where is Jack the Ripper remembered though?”

“At the London Dungeon.”

“Good work boy! But, are you sure?”

“Yes!” *********** The air had become foggy to add to the winter cold. The DO had found out the 12am tour was the last tour of London Dungeon for tonight. Scotland Yard had got special permission to protect the grounds from intruders.

“We’ve got 5 undercover policemen with us on the tour. There are guards everywhere surrounding London Dungeon. We’ve got him trapped.” said John with a smug smile. The tour started.

“Sir, next stop for our tour is Jack the Ripper.” said Jake. John turned his head around and nodded at the policemen and women. Jake saw them slowly reach their waists. He quickly turned around to keep up with the tour. They entered the room of Jack the Ripper. Jake had read that they would all enter the house of the first girl that Jack the Ripper had killed and there would be a special ghost attraction.

A dressed up woman was reading information about Jack the Ripper when the attraction took place. All the lights went out. Jake heard John grab his gun.

“Stop! It’s part of the attraction.” said Jake. John loosened his grip.

Suddenly a loud and painful scream was heard, it seemed like it was really close to Jake but he assumed it was the attraction. The attraction was a ghost of a girl with a knife in her hand just appearing and disappearing. Fake lightning struck, a glimpse of light shone in the middle of the room. Jake and John saw a dark figure in the middle of the light with a woman who had been horrendously ripped apart.

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“Get him!” yelled John. Jake knew everyone saw it because everyone started screaming and crying. The lightning struck again but this time the killer had disappeared. The attraction was quickly stopped but the killer was nowhere to be seen. The policemen took the people out which left John and Jake in the room.

“Damn it!” shouted John as he slammed his hand on the table.

“Calm down.” said Jake.

“What happened to the CCTV?” asked John.

“Report, report, all men on site, what happened to the CCTV?” said Jake through the walkie talkie.

“Detective Singleton, the guards are dead and the CCTV station is destroyed.” said a policeman back through the radio.

After John and Jake both gave in their reports, John sat down at his desk with a sigh, he looked terrible. Jake hadn’t seen him for a month or so and had to work on cases on his own. John smelled bad, his suit was covered in alcohol, his hair was greasy and he had the biggest bags under his eyes. Fortunately, the Landmark Killer hadn’t struck for over a month.

“What now sir?” asked Jake with a hint of intimidation in his voice.

“What do you mean what now?” grumbled John, “We can’t do anything, he’s outplayed me again like all the other cases. To make it worse, I actually saw him this time.”

“Sir. You can’t give up. We’re going to catch him no matter what it takes.” demanded Jake.

“Okay then. Are we going to wait for him to send another letter of his?” said John.

“No. We’re gonna get to him first”, said Jake.

“He must have a motive and an aim,” said Jake, “He’s been acting quite weird recently, he’s interacting with us more. He must be getting close to his aim.”

“What are we going to do?” asked John as he spun around in his chair whilst chewing a pen.

“Why does he specify landmarks? Yes, to make the death a big event on the news, but he must have a more obscure motive.”

For the next few hours, John and Jake kept working at the case. John was asleep but was awoken by Jake.

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“Hey John! Get a London map.” demanded Jake.

John stood up, rubbed his eyes and went to the reception, picked up a london map brochure and came back. Jake grabbed it, opened it and got a marker pen.

“Hey, Trevor! Could you get the landmarks the Landmark Killer killed people at since he started?” shouted Jake.

“On it sir.” he replied.

“What are you thinking?” asked John.

“Well, I’m thinking that there is some sort of pattern with his landmark killings.”

“Here’s a list of the landmarks Detective Singleton.” said Trevor.

Jake then circled all the landmarks with the pen. After he finished circling the landmarks he posted the map on the board. Just as he did, receptionist Emma stumbled into the office shivering with a letter in her hand. Jake went to her, gave the letter to John, comforted Emma and took her back to the reception. Jake ran back to the office, John looked distraught.

Jake started reading the letter: ‘Hello Jonathan, nice work in finding where I’ll be. Still failed in catching me though didn’t you. Remember the promise I made you. Well, I’m living up to it aren’t I. I’m going to do one more job that will ruin the country you love. I have lung cancer, my doctor said I will die in a year or two so I want to rest.

LK.’ “John, what’s the promise he made you? Am I not up to date with something I should know?” asked Jake sternly.

John sighed and started talking: “I was on a case 12 years ago. There was a robbery in a jewel store in south London. Policemen and I were in a gunfight with a group of masked boys and men. A woman pedestrian was in the midst of it and I accidently shot her. The gunfight lasted for 30 minutes or so, so we couldn’t get to her. Once the gunfight ended she had gone. We reported it but the robbers had CCTV down so we couldn’t find who she was. When he struck, I presumed it was the husband of the woman that had died. He tried to kill that teenage boy in Globe Theatre who was apparently one of the robbers.

“What, so it is Philip Ray?” exclaimed Jake in shock.

“Yes.” replied John.

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“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“He’s off the database anyway, we can’t find him. Anyway, let’s carry on. I arrested him at The Globe Theatre. He told me that he would take everything I love away from me. That’s why he killed my daughter and my wife.” Jake pretended to look surprised. “Everytime he kills someone, it feels like he’s killing my wife and daughter again.”

John wiped his eyes and then walked out to go to the bathroom. Jake turned around to look back at the map. “No way…”

“JOHN!” shouted Jake, “Come here!”

John came running back, “What is it?”

“Look at the map!”

John looked at what it showed.

“God help us.”

John ran out of the office and jumped onto a desk. “Everyone! I’m sorry for not doing this before, but I can’t explain it right now. The Landmark Killer is Philip Ray and he’s targeting Buckingham Palace…

God save the queen!

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Slasher Amy Ma I was honoured to get the job of being the one person able to deliver the child of my friend, Dawson.

Dawson was someone who I went to school with all throughout primary school and middle school. We were really good friends - no, brothers! We would be buddies for every single assignment or project.

“Waaaa!” came a cry that was desperate and eager, but calm at the same time.

Her body was sticky and purple - just like any other newborn baby. Her face was devastated, as she got delivered into the world and took her first breath of air.

Her face reminded me of Dawson: the round, blue eyes, tall nose, dimple on only one side of her face and the corner of her lip pointing straight to the sides of her cheeks when she smiles…

I let Dawson’s wife settle her down and have a look at her child. She looked thankful and proud of her.

“She is a beautiful, young girl!” I stated, with a smile on my face.

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“Yes, indeed she is. She looks very much like Dawson”, Dawson’s wife said tiredly, after all the pain she had to go through whilst delivering this angel.

“I agree, she does look a lot like Dawson when he was a young boy...” I said.

She was such a beautiful baby, and I was certain she wasn’t that.

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The sun was gradually setting, and the moon was about to reveal itself.

It was now the right time. The time when Christina (Dawson’s daughter) turned 3 years old. The time where she reveals whether or not she is that.

She came into to room and sat down confused - well, what do you expect? She is a 3 year old after all.

“Hello, dear. How are you?” I asked.

“GOOD!” she said, excitedly, not knowing what was going on.

“That’s fantastic to hear!” I said joyfully. “I am going to put something cold on your arm soon. It’s not going to hurt so don’t cry, okay?” I said reassuringly.

“OKAY!” she said again, in a high voice… still confused.

She sounded and looked very different to when she was born. Her hair used to be brown, but it had grown into a beautiful, silky blonde. Her hands seemed much bigger, and so did her feet. Her nose, taller than before. Her dimples, more visible.

I usually would’ve gotten my assistant to do the job for me, but today, the patient is the daughter of my friend, and I would like to make this a special day for her.

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“Could you pass me the ointment?” I asked my assistant.

“Yes, here it is,” she said as she handed me a tin which consisted of cotton, tongs and the special ointment which revealed your tattoos - or more like it is supposed to reveal your tattoos.

“What is that?” Christina asked. She seemed confused and scared at the same time.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, dear. I am sure it doesn’t hurt.” I said trying to calm her down. “I will give you some jelly beans if you can go through this without crying!”

“Yay!” she said, eager for the sugar.

I placed the cotton on the lid of the tin and picked up the pair of tongs. I held the tongs up and picked up the cotton, dampened it with the clear ointment, and rubbed it on the side of her arms.

One tattoo was revealed. I rubbed it in again, more on her lower arm.

No. The tattoo didn’t show up.

And in that moment, I was stoned.

“What is this? Why isn’t the tattoo showing? Maybe the ointment was too weak for her?” I questioned myself multiple times.

“What’s wrong, doctor?” Christina asked, as she saw the fear in my face growing.

“Ah- yes, everything is fine! I’m just a little bit sleepy.” I replied, quickly, so she wouldn’t notice anything.

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But still, no!

That can’t be it.

Initially, I guessed that I was exhausted from all the work I had earlier on in the day.

But I repetitively rubbed the ointment on her arm, harder every time, and there was not the slightest change in the results.

The only possible outcome of this is that Christina is that.

Slasher.

“What am I supposed to do now? Kill her? Well, the law does say that anyone who finds a slasher must eliminate it instantly. But no - I can’t do that. I shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of action.” I thought to myself, cringing in my mind, but trying not to show that outside.

No matter how many times I think about it, I just can’t understand. How can such a lovable being be a slasher? Her appearance as a whole just doesn’t suit the theme.

Slashers were known to be dangerous, fierce and threatening to the world and the people. And to know that such a charming child is that… it’s just so... distressing.

“Okay, I need to calm down and think about how to solve this” I said to myself, “There has to be a way I can solve this.”

My assistant saw the whole thing happen and I didn’t want her to spread the information out, so I put her to sleep with an injection for the mean time.

“Should I bring Kara and her dad to the room which only I can access? No, that would be too suspicious for everyone outside.” I thought deeply. “But how would I explain why it took so long for her to finish the treatment? And the 2 missing tattoos on her arm? Everything is too risky.”

My life was in danger in this moment and I was panicking too much to think straight.

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“This is too dangerous for my family and I… I have to kill her. No I mustn't. What am I thinking?” I thought, my mind perplexed.

I simply did not know what to do!

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February 27th, 2023 Today, the sun is dim, and it is about to set. It is just like the day when I turned 3 years old and went to my Dad’s friend to get ointment rubbed onto my arm. I went to check if I was a normal human, to check whether or not I was a slasher. I found out about this day when I turned 7 - when my parents thought I was old enough to understand. They told me that I was that and that my Dad’s friend let me out of his office alive. He was supposed to kill me but he was a great person so he decided not to, risking his own live. I am very thankful that he was the person to check if I was a slasher. If it was a different person, who knows whether or not I would be alive this instant? I am 13 years old now… ten years from that day. No one knows about my profile, except for my family and my Dad’s friend. I still don’t know how or what he did in order to save me, but I only have one thing to say: Thank you.

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Chain Johannes Park I tried to move. I couldn’t. I tried and tried until I could try no more. For some magical reason I was frozen except, for my mind. I stood there for a while and realized how lonely I was and really hoped to see this world, but no one was there except me. I could see no life or movement around me, except the white substance falling to the ground, and on to me. I feel like I was dead but at the same time… alive. I was solid and could not move. I wondered how much longer I had to wait. I was patient and waited to melt and move freely. But the longer I waited, the more impossible it seemed for me to move.

As time went by, the white substance that was falling above me stopped, and a glow of light shone towards me. It was warm and I thought I could melt but still, I couldn’t move. I believed one day I would move freely and not be alone in the cold atmosphere. As I looked towards the glow I heard light joyful cheers and screams. I wondered who it was. Suddenly something hugged me. It was tiny compared to the size of me. I tried to see what it is and moved my eyes to see what was around me.

There it was! It was life! In the corner of my right eye there was a little fellow with a red hat and big warm stuff on him. Soon more and more little people came to visit me. Some of them were lying on the white substance, laughing and giggling. Others were throwing the white substance at each other. I realized that these people call it “Snow”. I saw joy in their eyes and I saw it in mine as well. They were having fun until it was getting darker and they moved away from me.

Again I was alone.

Some months later something extraordinary occurred. Snow disappeared and turned into something more watery. Now I could also see the brown thick stuff that was surrounding my foot. For some reason the watery substance sank into the brown stuff and my foot seemed to absorb it. I felt it coming up my KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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whole entire body. My body was like a circuit. Then I realised that I was beginning to melt. I knew it, because I felt it inside. Something streamlined was moving.

I felt lighter and more and more eager to move, but I couldn’t.

I wondered what my purpose in life was and who created me, but no one answered. For some time I was alone except now the ground was covered in green needles, and that is probably why the little people didn’t come to me because it was dangerous. Then days and days went passed and something grew right in front of me. It was small, pretty and colorful…

But it didn’t move. Or talk. It was just small.

Some darkness and light had passed and then life visited me again. But remembering from last time, the little person was bigger than I thought. I saw the little being standing on the spikes and for some reason it was not injured. It sat next to me and said something. There was a moment of silence where the little person didn’t make a sound. Just the noise that sounded like a breeze came out of him. I waited what it would do next. For the few minutes and seconds we both gazed at the colorful thing. I wished I said something to the creature however, I wasn’t able to make noise like him.

I stared at my anorexic brown smudged body, and I felt so alone. Because I was plain, nothing different about me, except… my one rooty foot in the ground. I was depressed and jealous until a sudden shock of wind struck me from the right to the left. The weather was getting more and more warmer and there were more and more tiny creatures buzzing, hopping and flying around me. They were all energetic and hyper but I couldn’t make them be still because I can’t move. As the air around me was getting warmer I felt more hot and more humid. My arms felt more live and they seemed to absorb something which was not there.

As months of waiting go by, I see my first clone of me. He was exactly like me in the beginning. And he didn’t move.

One day I was amazed by how much I had grown and how many green arms I had. It was wonderful, my arms started to move! I was so excited! Then I felt something, more of a flash of memory…

Who am I? I felt a slight sensation that every time I stood in the flat, cold, white and blank atmosphere I was getting heavier. It seemed that my one foot was sinking to the ground. Very slowly. I tried to move, I couldn’t. I tried and tried until I could try no more...

This is the life of a tree.

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Something in the Mist Jay Kim There were paintings that looked out of place, and one of them was half broken. That painting was a gift that I received from a childhood friend for my birthday. Seeing the painting was a reminiscence of my simplistic, yet ignorant lifestyle in which I was just a boy and paid no attention to life as I would have done if I had another chance to change my childhood. If I hadn’t made the foolish mistake, my reputation wouldn’t have been ruined and I would live a more quiet life, in a respectable house. It was too late and I breathed a deep sigh as I quietly opened the door and we went outside to the backyard to see what the commotion was about.

I stepped outside and I looked around my backyard to see if something of a disturbance was causing all this. Suddenly, out of nowhere, came a strange creature who appeared to be floating. It muttered a sound that was unrecognizable and I was shocked to see such a creature in my backyard, even in the middle of the night. I was still dizzy from the unpleasant awakening that I had received, and couldn’t think clearly of the situation I was in. I stood still the creature writhe in pain as it tried to move in a zigzag pattern. I could see its glowing eyes, creating a bright flash of light that illuminated his path and the big, pointy ears, which were just like a rabbit, yet the sides of it were cut off. The other parts of his face were shadowed by the mist, which darkened the air and soon rain began to appear. The rain kept drizzling hard on the ground and created huge puddles. Then, it vanished into thin air as he entered a couple of shadowy trees in the distance. It was an extraordinary sight, and how unfortunate it was for me to not record the phenomenon that I had seen.

I was alert to the sounds that the creature was still exhibiting. Even though the cries of pain and echoes were barely audible, it was obvious that something terrible was going to occur. I was in a split end, as one side of my conscious mind told me to follow the whereabouts of the mysterious creature, and another side instructed me to just ignore the creature and go back to sleep for another big day tomorrow. After much pondering and the time taken to think, I was driven by such curiosity that I

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decided to follow it. I tip-toed to where the monster last left, and I could see a trail of black liquid heading towards the depths of a forest.

I entered. Strangely, this place was bright and I could see the sunlight hitting me. Why was it that it was dark out in my backyard and bright in the forest? Where could the monster be going, and for what purpose? These questions flooded my brain, and my eyes seem to be drifting away. I felt sick, and dizzy, and I took a quick rest before resuming the journey again. From my surroundings, I could see animals, big and small, fast and not so fast, running around like a pack of orangutans’ had just escaped from a local zoo. Some birds were drinking water, and the constant sounds of ‘quack, quack’ was beginning to annoy me, so I continued to follow the trail. Perhaps if this was all a dream, then nothing would be realistic at all...

The trail was beginning to disappear as I walked further and further into the forest. It was a scary sight to see that the sunlight was starting to fade away and it was replaced by darkness. I was lost in the middle of a forest, and all I could sense beyond my vision was the howling of wolves and the shadows of scarecrows. Nevertheless, I kept moving forward, unaware of the potential danger that I might have inflicted upon me. I couldn’t think properly, and I began to envision illusions that were out of this world. My boots were worn out from the walking, and small holes were apparent. I was still hopeful in that I would meet someone who would guide me to the exit, as now, I thought it foolish to go alone to find a creature that I have no information about, and to add to that, go into a forest without company.

I dreamt about waking from my house at 7:30 PM in the very least, eating a nice meal with some tea, and heading off to my work to gain some profit for myself. However, I woke up from my preliminary state of dreaming, and breathed heavily as I continued the long journey to nowhere.

I screamed out to see if anyone would hear me and hopefully rescue me from a dangerous place, but all that I received was the wind blowing, creating a small tornado of leaves before dying out. I looked at my watch to see the time, yet the watch didn’t seem to be working. The hour hand was moving irregularly, and the minute hand had ceased to move. I threw away my watch, knowing that it was broken and it had no use. It seemed to take forever to reach the deep end of the forest, or maybe it was my impatience that was the result of me thinking it took forever when it actually didn’t. I was confused with myself, and the more and more I walked, the less that I thought. My body seemed to acting strangely, as my brain wasn’t functioning well. My legs were moving like an octopus’s tentacles and I had no control of them. My arms were stiff and could only move them if I applied my full force to it. I decided to rest for a couple of hours before doing more intensive walking and to refill the energy that I had lost while walking along…

I could see the beaming light shining at me, and I was temporarily blinded by the bright light. After gaining sight, I looked around my surroundings. The trees were able to be seen, and the animals were coming out of their respective shelters. The whole forest seemed lively and I exhaled air to take a deep breath and to let go of my anxiety that was growing at an abnormal rate.

However, what was quite odd to me was that there were strange marks implanted on the trees - marks that looked like a bear’s. I touched the marks with my rough hands and I could feel the fracture between my fingers as it touched them, leaving shivers over my body. It felt like a recent mark, so I kept my guard up in case it was nearby. Suddenly, I could hear the same noises that I have heard a couple of nights ago, and from the distance I could witness the same monster that was scouting my backyard, sniffing in the trees, perhaps looking for food to digest. I gulped, and took a deep breath KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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before taking a small step into the opening. The monster didn’t seem to notice my appearance (although I had bright clothing), but I still had to be quite careful to not get caught. One small mistake would create a havoc upon this forest and avoiding that was by all means the goal.

SNAP! All at once, I quickly observed the noise that I had created and beneath my feet was a twig that now was snapped in half. Hesitantly, I slowly, slowly, turned around and I felt the breath of the monster right behind me. His eyes were red, and he howled so high that I was taken aback by the ferocious noise which the monster had produced.

I knew that I was surely a dead man.

I got off the soft forest floor and proceeded to run with haste, as I would be destroyed if I faced the monster face to face. I took a short glimpse and I saw the monster scurrying with his horse-like legs, taking down whatever was in his path. I wasn’t sure if I could endure the pain from my legs due to all the running, but I had to so that I wouldn’t feel the wrath of the creature. I noticed a bridge leading up to the exit, but the pain was slowly gaining upon me. Out of nowhere, the creature grabbed me and I slowly opened my pocket zipper that revealed a knife that was razor-edged. Without much movement, I carefully adjusted the knife to his back and by a swift second, pierced the creature’s body. The creature let out a sharp cry of pain before it abruptly stopped. I sighed heavily, and proceeded to get out of this place. However, the body was still leaning against me, and even from my persistence I couldn’t push him out. The body was too heavy, and the ropes of the bridges began to fracture due to the weight. I looked down, and I could hear the sounds of water crashing down the rocks that were underwater. There was nothing I could to do to escape from my approaching death, so I lifted myself out of the rope’s grasp and there I descended into the depths of the ocean, not knowing where I would go. I might return to my home, and perhaps this was all a dream again.

All a fantasy… nothing but a dream.

What is then, the meaning of death and what does it symbolize? The question was on my mind as I plunged deep down, letting the flowing water take my body away…

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Maelstrom Island Vincent Thai “Wake up. Wake up now.”

I sat up groggily on my silk lined bed; wondering why the heck someone would try to wake me up. Everything seemed perfectly fine, until I noticed the shattered clock lying on the ground.

“Dude, Wake. Up. Now.” There was a tone to his voice. He wasn’t yelling or screaming at me. It was something else, something with a commanding tone, a serious voice. Immediately I knew something was wrong, my best friend usually isn't serious, he wakes me up in the middle of the night with a serious tone and a random shattered clock on the floor. If he wasn’t kidding, something was terribly wrong. I looked up to him; his eyes bloodshot, clothes all wet and torn and blood dripping down from an open scar on his arm.

“What happened?” I asked him, expecting the worst.

“I don’t have much time to explain to you, but I’ll keep it short. Let’s just say that there is a gigantic whirlpool waiting to invite us to the depths of the nice host the ocean. We have lost all contact with land and other ships nearby. We are currently on the rim on the whirlpool, so we have a slight chance to get out.”

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“A maelstrom? Okay, see if you can apply full throttle out of the whirlpool, put down the sails as that will obviously just add much more drag. I’ll come up as fast as I can.

Wait.. Wait a sec, we may be able to ride it out with the sails. Only if the wind is going the right direction.”

This was never supposed to happen. I checked the weather forecast for our trip and there was no storm whatsoever nearby our route. You don’t simply get a ship sucking whirlpool appear out of nowhere.

SNAP... The ship was slowly breaking apart. I was brought back from thinking to the reality that we needed to act quickly and get this ship out of here. I grabbed the nearest t-shirt I could find and put it on.

As I got off of the bed I was swung violently to one side of the ship, I fell on the shattered clock hard, the glass leaving a gash on my left hand. I pulled out the shard of glass from my left hand quickly; blood covered half of the shard. There was no time to meddle with my hand, as I ran up the stairs towards the deck I could already hear the ocean. Its waves slamming down the side of the boat like it was a fly, only once that I got to the top I realized that we had a good chance of dying.

Thunderbolts? Check. Angry ocean? Check. Death knocking? Check. Nighttime? Check.

Intense storm winds? Double check. The whirlpool was beyond imagination; it seemed like something out of a Greek adventurous myth. A sailor finds himself stuck in a gigantic whirlpool. The center of the whirlpool seemed like it sucked all of the light out, it was pure darkness, a water void. I gave myself a single objective, not to land in there. I struggled against the wind and the shakiness of the craft. It made our sturdy boat look like a 2nd grade science project. I saw my friend trying to maneuver the ship out. Rigorously, I screamed over to him past the howling winds and clapping thunder.

“HOW IS IT GOING?” “I don’t think we will make it out, the pull is getting stronger and stronger as we are moving towards the center. I’m using all the power on this, but I doubt we can make it out.”

It seemed hopeless - a gigantic whirlpool to maneuver out of. The both of us - lost to the powerful sea. Powerless against it... The ship started gaining speed towards the KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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center. This was it. I could feel the power of the whirlpool, a few more seconds and we would be in it. Engulfed. Dead. Hopeless. No one would ever find us again.

“There is no more trying. Just give up. We aren’t going to make it” “I know friend. I know. It’s been nice having being able to spend all this time with you.”

Final words were exchanged. It was time.

The maelstrom, without even trying, dragged us in. The ship quickly dragged into it, straight into the center of the predator waiting for us. I grabbed the side handles of the ship till my knuckles were white; I could sense a feeling of falling fast.

I woke up lying on the cold sand between my fingers. Somehow I’m alive? No, it cannot be, it is impossible to survive something like that. I thought to myself, this is definitely a dream or an afterworld of some sort. One doesn’t simply survive a maelstrom. Dream or not, I had to find Mark. If this was actually real and I was alive Mark must be here somewhere.

Looking up at the sky, I found the sun shining bright, like a summer sun. Looking at the suns position, it seemed somewhere around 7 in the morning. Except, the temperature was near freezing, something you would expect in winter. I quickly scoured the beach, looking for any signs of our boat or Mark. Nothing. Nothing to signify survival, except for me…

My priorities now shifted to finding shelter; somewhere I could keep warm from this weather. Blazing sun in the morning, but freezing temperatures at the same time?

Isn’t a blazing sun supposed to be hot? Nearby from where I landed, I found some sort of cotton like material growing on a tree without the spikes. I gathered as much of it as I could to help me insulate myself, against the coldness. Next thing to do, was to look for food around me. I spent a couple of hours finding the food, all I gathered were some berries and I wasn’t even sure if they were safe to eat. I decided to keep them for storage.

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Suddenly the weather changed rapidly, I was shivering to death and all of a sudden, it became super- hot (something like summer). I suddenly came up with a thought. What if different part of the days represented different seasons and with different seasons you have different temperatures. Morning must have been winter, afternoon was summer and what could night be? If this was correct, it was vital information for my survival. I sat down thinking. How did I get here? Seasons relating to time? This was all beyond my imagination, I assume the whirlpool was a portal or I’m just dead and I’m in an afterlife. But, if it was a portal… I let my mind trail off, it wasn’t my issue right now, and I had to find water and shelter.

After exploring around the beach for a little bit, I found a nice tree with big leaves to lie under. Something among a coconut tree almost, I looked up sadly but the tree didn’t contain coconuts to rehydrate me. I still had my cotton like blanket, to keep me warm in the mornings and this tree could provide me shelter from the heat at noon. Dehydration was imminent. Symptoms started to kick in. My mouth was so dry.

Near the beach around a 5 minute walk was the jungle. Could I find water there? I resisted the urge to go in, until this was fully thought through. I had no idea of the potential dangers lying in there. With nothing better to do, I looked around,seeing if I could find a stick to carve into a harpoon or spear. I needed protection if I were to go into the jungle. It turned out it was easier said than done, I struggled with sharpening it and creating a fine point that would actually protect me instead of breaking.

Multiple times the stick triumphed over me, undefeated.

I was the champion of this island, but that soon changed as determination set in like a drug. I was certain that this was no longer a dream or anything else. This was real. I was determined to find my way out…

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Project Singularity Yunhyuk Kang Prologue Humanity... we aren't the strongest animals. We don't have claws, we don't have fangs, we don't have scales. We lack basic self- defense.

However, we have risen to the top of the food chain. How did we do it? As we all know, we carry a level of intelligence and physical utility like no other organism. We have created things we call "machines" to carry us to the rank of first on the food chain. We rely solely on these things we categorize as tools. Now ask yourself this, what if we were no longer at the top? What if machines could think? Would they still listen to us? Would there be peace? Out of all these questions, none of them can be answered unless you are actually there.

Year 2087, we can't tell the difference between humans and machines. What does it mean to hold on to your humanity? Can we even define humanity? We have angered god for the final time, yet nobody remembers that day...

"He who flies too close to the sun will have his waxed wings melted and will fall back to earth". We have reached the stage in time where we are knocking on God's doorstep. We are finding the key to immortality and somebody has done it.

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"By syncing the human conscience into our program, it will be impossible for humans to die."

There was a new invention in town, and it was one to completely change the tides of history. This new system allowed people to live forever. Your body would never wear out, you wouldn't die from hunger or thirst, and also, you would never die even if your body was destroyed. If your body was destroyed in any way, your conscience would just be synced into the system's cloud storage and uploaded into a new shell.

Well? Sounds interesting right? That's what I thought. That was until I actually did it. Think about it, as a teenager, you are offered immortality.

You would NEVER die. I couldn't resist the urge to try it out. I signed a pact and paid the company money. What I got in return was 3 hours asleep in a cold lab. After the 3 longest hours of my life, I woke up in a completely different room. I was alone. There was a door to my right, however, something just didn't feel right. My body felt like normal but I knew that wasn't it. I was in a machine designed to look like me. When I got cut, I bled, I could choose when and how much pain I could feel. It felt like when you first get in a car. So many new functions that you have never experienced. I felt like I was controlling thirty different limbs. I wondered how they even did this. Trusting them was my biggest mistake.

"The singularity" Servers are offline. That's all I read, all I needed to read. We all knew what servers they were talking about. Of course, hackers must have gotten in. They should be gone by tomorrow; just try not to die today and I should be good. I wondered what would happen if we were permanently like this. If we had only one life left. It was like a video game. People even fifty years ago would probably not believe that we would say such things. However, this is how things are. Nobody values life. It seems like humans have become the most expendable things on the planet. Now, there is no crime, no war, no conflict, it is like the humans have settled down and found world peace. The only thing we were looking for were new scientific breakthroughs. Some even stated that we had passed the limits of God. We were entering areas of the cosmos that should never be ventured in.

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Walking down the street the next day. I was looking for a nice restaurant to eat at. Of course, I had already tried them all. Just looking, hoping for change, maybe I shouldn't have thought that. Because the moment I turned the corner, I saw myself. No, I couldn't have, but it looked just like me! He also had the same expression as me. Judging from his expression, he was also just as confused as me. I had made that face when I was confused. I started to wonder, where is all of this leading? I needed answers, and I knew exactly where to look.

Act 1 "Spring, the creation" August 28, 2070. Some people know it as the day when copper ran out. Others know it as the day the war started, while I remember it was the day when life as I knew it was flipped over. It all started at 9:00 in the morning. I was around 12 at the time. I was on my regular schedule: school. Nothing more to it, just go to school, nothing new. However, something really weird happened... my bus... it was late. It was never late.

The automatically controlled vehicles have been programmed to follow time plans. From the corner of my eye, a vehicle was racing at speeds faster than 150mph- no, make that 250... it was coming straight at me, I could feel death crawling out to find me...

The very last second, the car sharply turned 90 degrees. Still, I was in the way. Shocked, I couldn't move one muscle on my body. The car screeched as it came sliding my way. It was moving much more slowly than usual but still, I tried to move to avoid it until- That was it... there I was, frozen with time. Everything around me had stopped. Nothing moved, even myself. It felt like everything was frozen except my mind. I could see the car inches away from me, I could see water particles in the air frozen, just hovering in mid -air. Nothing would change, I wondered if this was what would occur before death, maybe... maybe...

I found myself awake at a hospital. I didn't know how I got there. All I remembered was the slight drizzle of the rain and the boredom of waiting for the school bu... The memories returned, the freeze in time, the rogue car, everything came back. My head felt like it had split open. When people KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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realized that I was awake, I started to drown in the questions that they were asking. All I could make out in the monsoon of people was my mother, holding back her tears as she held tightly on to a cross. I wanted to tell her that I was fine but I knew, I was nowhere near fine. I had just been hit by a car.

It was a miracle, I was not killed and on top of that, I had no bone injuries anywhere. Just a lot of bruises and a few cuts. By the time my eyes had regained full focus, everybody was gone. Even the doctors and nurses had left the room. I was all alone. I wanted to scream but something held me back. Was it my conscience? No, it was something else. This sudden impulse wouldn't be it. Even for a sociopath, it would be impossible to hold back this emotion but even then, I just couldn't say anything. Tears slid down my cheek as I slowly lied down and fell asleep.

"Why are you telling me this?" I was asking myself this question, literally, my younger self was right in front of me. "If you want to know why I exist, why you exist, why we all exist, you need to know this.

I wanted to know why I was reminded of an incident that I never wanted to remember? It was just an accide- wait, there was no way that was an accident. Those roads were controlled by computer. The cars were on autopilot. There was no way that a car could have gone crazy like that.

That was a cyber override of some sort. Who would attack the system?

That is, if he or she was even a human...

This could mean that humans are no longer in control. The things we have depended on have stopped listening to us.

This was the turning point.

Act 2 "The heat of summer" I didn't know what to think. I had recovered from the accident, resumed classes, and even got into one of the top universities in the world.

I had a perfect life right? Something felt off, I didn't know why, I didn't know

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what, but just something was wrong. I was so focused on my studies that I quickly brushed it off.

"Top scorer in all subjects." That was my title. What made me, everybody at the school knew who I was. I was the first student to ever get 100% in all classes (except English). "I should feel happy." I would mutter that whenever I thought of the idea that I had come first. I had achieved something that people all dream of. I had a degree in every field available to me. I could choose any profession I wanted. This was what I wanted right? I had made the right choice. Still, a feeling kept coming back to me. I didn't cheat, I didn't bully, but I still had this impulse telling me to throw it all away.

"I can't, I already came this far."

I realized that every person in the cafeteria had stopped what they were doing to look at me. It was then that I realized that I had said that out loud. "Excuse me" I tried to say it in the most stoic accent possible as everybody started to resume what they were doing.

I realized, I didn't attend any family related matters in the past 4 years. My mother had passed away during my 2nd year at university and my father had been killed during an accident in a science lab. I was so busy with studies that I didn't even show up at their funerals. The thought itself so too painful to bear. Tears slid down my cheeks once again as the thought danced in my head like a devil, just taunting me. I wanted to kill the spirit but all I could do was watch as it just laughed, taunting me, waving at me, slowly driving me insane.

"That's it!"

I yelled out loud but this time, I couldn't care less about the 150 graduate students looking at me. This time, I ran towards the computer database. I would continue my father's work. That would be what he wanted. I would complete what he couldn't. A sustainable energy resource.

Years of research and I did it. I made a machine that would take an element and harness its full potential.

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100% of the energy there and this would last hundreds of thousands of years. So this is what my father was looking for. However, he didn't stabilize the power source causing a nuclear explosion killing everybody within a 5 mile radius of the lab. Which was of course isolated within the countryside.

My Achievement... My memory... A distant memory... I don't know what is real anymore. Is this my memory?

"I know what you're thinking, because I don't get it either. Whose memory is it?" He replied back to me.

There was a sense of truthfulness in his voice, in my voice. I could feel the confusion. I was feeling the same thing. Was this really me?

Nobody could tell the difference in personality. I couldn't make it out anymore. This achievement. Was it really my doing? or am I just an illusion?

"I don't know, I guess that's for me and you to figure out." I answered back, hoping he knew what I meant.

"Me and you huh? I guess we are really the same." He knew exactly what I meant. First, I always had a habit of saying "Me and you" instead of "You and I". Also, I didn't say "Us". This meant that I wanted to look for the answers alone. This was a path for one person, one identity, and one being.

"I guess the first one to find the answer wins." I tried to say in the most friendly and amiable voice I could make.

"I guess so..." He had replied in a more reluctant voice. This time, he said it while walking away.

Act 3 "Fall, end of the line" Living in fear, we have weekly checkups, living in restricted areas, the world as we know it has come to an end. These machines we used to rely on now consider us occupants. We take up the world's space and KEY STAGE THREE (BS)

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resources. Anybody who isn't useful to them are taken away, never to be seen again.

I have barely been able to keep my family alive. Nothing could be done about my friends. They were all taken away, even if they never told us what they did with them, we all knew. This was like the "North Korea" everybody had talked about during the early 21st century.

Never have we ever thought that people could be treated like this.

This went against human rights in the third degree. Funny isn't it? Even within the same century, we have feared humans of doing this but even now, we can't understand why machines would. There was nothing to it.

The machines were superior and they control us now. The only reason I am still alive it because of my contributions to all the new scientific breakthroughs of this decade. I have found a way to make self generating energy, a way to make a matter nullifier, and even a controlled black hole.

There was simply no other scientist who could do anything close to what I had achieved. My family was being treated like hostages. So I had no choice.

"Living like birds in cages, the humility of being trapped, there was no feeling that was worse than this." All I could do was listen as this person told me what would happen.

He was me.

I couldn't really think of a logical explanation for this. I was the current me. I was the most updated me. If he exists, that means that there is a possibility that I am also just a back up file. These memories, these feelings, were they all fake? Were they just illusions? Or... was this person just a prediction of the future? Yes, that was it. I am still the real me. He was simply just a prediction. I had to find out if this was the truth or not.

Even then, would my judgment be clouded? Would I really want to know what happens next? There has to be another way around it. If all came to worse, there was always one solution...

Death.

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"The blood of those who remain" I found what I was looking for. However, I don't think I wanted to know. Once again I learned the hard way. Answers, what are they? Do we really need them? "Ignorance is bliss." I couldn't agree more. We spend our whole lives trying to impress others, trying to find the meaning of life, all these different reasons why we live. Nothing is more painful than to realize, everything you do will eventually come to waste. We spend too much time on our goals we can't even look up and see the truth: believe in yourself…believe in each other.

I can't tell you if I really still exist in this world. For this world has gone beyond our control. This may be a whole illusion while we are used as power sources. This world may be the future, or it may be the past. There are many different scenarios that are possible. However, there is one that sticks out. The choice of quick death, many people consider it an act of cowardice, others consider it stupid. However, I consider it a luxury.

Nothing is better than the final grace that god has given you. The grace of leaving this world as a happy man. The final petals of human life have come to an end. A new garden of flowers have risen.

Machines...

However, within these flowers lies a small but resilient flower bud.

The result of a seed that fell long ago. No matter how small it is, it will grow, it will rise, and in the end, it will outlive the other flowers of stone.

A seed that is called humanity.

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The Four Seasons Spring merges into summer, summer mingles into autumn, autumn blends into winter, and winter melts into spring. Yet again, another passing year brings seamless change and new fantasy worlds where dimensions collide and lucid dreams become reality.

But in fairytale lands and rapturous reveries, who controls the turn of the seasons?

In this imaginative “come together” tale of a storm of colors, SFBS’s KS3 writers combine their plots and characters to spin a story of melancholy and euphoria into “The Four Seasons”.

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