OF

PLANS BY RANA O.

It was an ordinary day Until I found, lying There, an unconscious prey left from an attack, almost crying

The animal I found Was called a squirrel Created a tiny sound

Then left me with a memorious twirl

A HIKE BY FATIMA E.

The tall Redwoods towering everywhere

The chirping of birds drifting in the air

The sound of water is distant But keeps us resistant

We stomp and splash in the river

While watching the stones move and quiver We climb big walls of soil Watching the insects dig and toil

The decaying logs don’t stop us And no need to make a fuss For nature should be left alone So others can watch and be shown The wonders of Earth and the unknown

And finally as we get nearer The roar of the falls Gets even clearer We now know what nature is And what it does

And what it gives Nature isn’t there just for us And thus we discuss That nature is here For us and all the animals near.

The Mountains By Isa Hasan

Winter

All around me, mountains covered with ice and snow. Majestic and stupendous, they fill me with awe. I pass several little snowmen all in a row. But soon pink spring will arrive and the ice must thaw.

Spring

In the spring, air is fresh and mountains lush and green. Mountains spectacular, gargantuan, and grand. Fields of lupine flowers everywhere to be seen. Fresh pine trees and rocky terrain cover the land.

Summer

I visit the mountains when the weather turns dry. The mountains are red like the California clay earth. We climb high, nearly reaching the sun in the sky. We find the spot where God to the mountains gave birth.

Fall

The mountain’s silvery crevices appear dark. At sunset. Like purple veins running across my wrist. Behind, the golden sun splutters and sparks. The fiery trees put out like matches in their midst.

Year Round

The beauty of mountains inspires poems and rhymes. They gift us the daily glory of the sunset. The challenge we can never beat but always climb. The mountain’s face is one I can never forget.

TARGET PRACTICE BY YUSUF I.

In ARCHERY you can use an arrow. In ARCHERY you can use a bow. Sometimes you shoot through a space so narrow. How to shoot at a target? Do you know?

Always practice in order to be successful. Remember, practice makes perfect for sports. When you shoot an arrow, please, be careful. An injury you’d not like to report.

Bovine Appreciation Post By

Gentle bovines, so sweet and meek

They graze on grass, nutrition they seek Nine gallons daily, milk they bestow

Voices heard, expressions they show

Buzzing flies, with their tails they swat

Their calcium-rick milk, vital a lot

Living on farms, so relaxed and slow

Providing us with more than we know

After milk stew, go seek the view

A cow’s resounding sound heard, a hearty moo

Without cows, we wouldn’t have much Milk, butter, cheese, and such

People would weaken, day by day

Without these creatures that gently sway The Olympics’ glory, it would fade At dawn, all would vanish, nature betrayed

In playfulness, cows often engage

Helping souls, on history’s stage.

YOUSOF ELWAZEER

The Colors Of The World By

Everywhere you see, there are millions of shades, mostly vivid but sometimes they fade. They fill the world around you, you may not notice, but they always surround you, the colors of the world

HUSNA B.

We see them every day and night, No matter where we go, They sometimes give expressions, And sometimes help us choose which is better between two, They also give great impressions, About what you like They help us in many ways, The colors of the world.

And without them you would see, nothing, nothing bright, only black and white, And it would be hard to match things right. it is hard to imagine to be without them, as they fill the universe that surrounds us, the colors of the world.

Belonging By Isa Hasan

I’m swarmed by bobbing black fabrics sandalwood ittar whirpools and alien tongues volleying in the corridor. Mothers are hosts flanked by suckerfish, all perfectly impish laughing white teeth.

Teenagers round corners carrying armfuls of samosas and biryani and basketballs.

Rounded kufi hats rush by all puffy, cumulus clouds below hats, glistening beards drip from ablutions.

The booming adhaan reverberates everywhere - plaintive, urgent “Hurry to the prayer. Hurry to success.”

We line up, shoulder to shoulder, soul to soul, each a different color strangers in county, siblings in spirit.

Belonging means knowing no one and everyone, all at once. We prostrate together. We are one.

PLAY BY RANA O.

When I was finishing up my swimming set in the pool When my hand crossed my other continuously When all my limbs were aching

When I was trying to catch up to the others, I hit the wall for a rest I heard the directions for a game

My boredom was placated with the excitement and relief I gave my full attention to the instructions And released my soul to play

SWITCH BY HUSNA B.

A girl in the library searching for books on her list running through the aisles checking the books off of her list

Throne of Glass, An Ember in the Ashes, City Spies, Prisoner of Ice and Stone, and H.I.V.E.

She crossed off a few and looked for some too and when she found Artemis Fowl her eyes widened and she smiled wanting to see the mind of a villain who was the same age as her but in a completely different world she would get to be everyone going through the pain and the fun again and again in a whole other life she would see and be until it was time to move to a new life

Bazaar By Isa Hasan

The familiar blend spices and sweat assaults me as I maneuver through the saffron-laced bazaar. Shoulders crash. Infinite patterns like waves in the ocean. The crowd behind me is the tide that carries me forward.

The smell of sandalwood wafts by like a cloud as I pass the attar factory at the beating heart of old city. Alien sounds through tobacco-stained teeth. Outstretched hands offering bounties of lentils and rice.

The Bollywood gods gaze benevelently down at us. Gleaming smiles and chiseled biceps at every corner. Unaffected by the poverty and squalor of their subjects. Their only enemy: the constant anger of bellowing rickshaws.

I pick up an alphonso mango and its inevitable sweetness Seeps into my nostrils. They smell the way they taste. Fleshy, filling. My eyes close as I let its aroma consume me. I yank a shiny silver rupee from my pocket as payment.

Gleaming mirrors reflect crimson silk brocades draped over Wood carved panels, jade figurines, and glinting daggers. Silver-belled anklets twist like circus contortionists. Hanging perilessly from strands tied to decaying wooden posts.

The myna’s desperate cry echoes. She never sleeps, it seems. She assumes her role as the city’s alarm clock with relish. Even now, near dusk, she refuses to be drowned out by the sounds Of wedding dhols that beat for hours into the warm summer night.

My mind drifts into thought as I trace my foot in the dust. Creating a cloud around me, filling my nose with the scent of the country. Always hot, always smelling like a mix of diesel fuel and burned crops. I reach for a Pepsi hourglass and it quenches my thirst for a time.

Every stall is a poem, every vendor its eloquent bard. Weaving an intricate elixir designed to elicit Intoxicated rivers of rupees. Every inebriate wanting The explosion that alights every emotion and sense.

Missing By Isa Hasan

The familiar blend of spices, sandalwood, and sweat wafts through the air as I pass strangers in the street who bump into me as I maneuver through the market.

I lean against the school’s crumbling wall. I’m early. I trace my foot in the dust, creating a cloud that fills my nose with the country’s hot scent of diesel fuel and burned crops. The myna bird, the city’s alarm clock, still chirps.

***

She deftly hops out of the rickshaw, lugging her school bag behind her. Her petite frame bends down to adjust the silver anklet above her leather-clad foot.

The rickshaw jostles away. I hear the clanging of her tiffin against her hip as she approaches.

Suddenly, the tiffin’s rhythmic reverberation is silenced. The cheerful tinkling of the silver belled anklet is muzzled. A hush falls over place. She is gone.

***

I see her join her sisters in a beautiful garden; a special heaven for India’s 46 million missing girls. They are laughing and holding hands. No one bothers them here.

SINCERITY BY RANA O.

Oh I am really really sorry I apologize the most Just please don’t get mad!

I know I shouldn’t have taken Your necklace without permission Are you angry with me?

I know, even if I took, your most prized possession I should have shown more care It justs slipped out of my hand, don’t get mad!

But the gems are still here Even though the necklace is dust I can fix it, are you sad?

APOLOGIES BY HUSNA B.

I apologize for eating your piece of cake I felt really bad when I saw tears in your eyes I knew it wasn't for me to take

Please forgive me my blood sugar was low I needed to eat something sweet and was afraid you would say no and now the damage is done and you wont talk to me anymore so I wanted to say I am sorry, Edmund I promise this won't happen anymore

I ate your piece of cake that was freshly baked it was on a plate and you were running late

It was a chocolate cake so nice and rich

It was soft as a sponge

You were at work

I was hungry and I knew you would say no

I’m sorry, but it tasted so good the frosting melted in my mouth

The Symphony By Isa Hasan

In the symphony of America’s sordid tale of blood-stained birth, Amidst the Aeolian notes of sorrow and resilience, A chorus of voices rises like ancient rivers, unwavering, A testament to the strength of the Black ancestors.

Through wretched melodic tapestry of our history, they weave, Knotted threads of struggle and triumph entwined, A proud legacy born from shackled, holy pasts, Fulfilled prophecy of broken looms of oppression.

Within its confines the cagebird continues to sing, Yet Black lives bear the weight of the ironclad cage, Prey to Lady Justice, whose blindfold conveniently slips, One eye seals fates of disparate destinies for same transgressions.

Incarcerated hearts steadily beat unabashed songs of resolve, A song of prayer in the names of the Lord and prison reform. Through the unyielding steels walls of confinement, persists, Unsilenced, chants of “we shall overcome” echo in historic halls.

The weeping heart song reverberates like a clarion call, Breaking through barriers and bigotry, shadows and suspicion. A profound cry in remembrance of slavery’s chains, That the fight is not yet won, that the shackles still bite.

In unity, we seize our role as this rhapsody’s audience. We succumb to the spoken word truths, the tales untold, In the embrace of empathy’s tune, we shall demand a new dawn, A heady jazz beat of a shared future, where equity at last prevails.

For in the mosaic of black and white keys, Black and White, Their bluesy voices stand as essential notes, the major key. Their melodic significance ever unyielding, ever undeniable, The crashing climax a battle-hymn cry of hope, unity, and change.

Peace Be Upon You By Ali Hasan

Peace means to trust. That everything is okay.

Peace means no war. For that I always pray.

Peace means smiling kids. Who are not shaking scared.

Peace means a big hug. And feeling someone cared.

Peace means I live in mine. While you live in yours.

Peace means building homes. Of brick. Not iron swords.

Peace means no bullying. And no calling names.

Peace means happiness. We are all the same.

Peace means to share. Whatever that is yours.

Peace means to care. To heal and look for cures.

Peace means no riots. No guns and no tanks.

Peace means no bombs. No concentration camps.

Peace means we live. In harmony so true.

Peace be upon us. Peace be upon you.

The Talk By Isa Hasan

Don’t go to the mall at night. Don’t hang out there with friends that are white.

Don’t hang around on the street. Even if you have someone to meet.

Don’t give sass to an officer. Say “yes sir” and always be polite. Don’t argue no matter what. Even if you think you are right.

Don’t delay pulling over. When the police turn on their lights. Keep your hands on the wheel. Don’t move at all, sit tight.

Don’t reach for your wallet. Don’t reach for the glove compartment. Obey every single command. Don’t make any sudden movement.

Don’t go jogging alone. You don’t want to end up like Ahmaud. Don’t sell anything anywhere. Don’t be like Eric and get shot.

Don’t forget to follow traffic rules. You don’t want to be Daunte. Don’t ever use a cell phone. If you do you’ll be dead like Andre.

Don’t ever walk home from the store. We grieve for Manuel to this day. Don’t leave your front door open. Atatiana was shot this way.

Don’t ever use the stairwell. You may end up like Akai. Don’t play with toy guns. You’ll be shot like Tamair Rice.

Don’t ever have bipolar. Don’t have depression too. They’ll kill you for mental illness. Look at Tanisha and Daniel Prude.

Don’t be a Black teenage boy. Don’t you know that’s a crime?

A.G. was shot with his arms up. Only 13, and he lost his spine.

Don’t say that “Black Lives Matter.” They’ll call you a left-wing nut. Don’t mention Trayvon or George Floyd. They’ll say, “Go back to Africa to your hut!”

Don’t say that the police kill us. Even though it’s true. At a rate twice that of white people. You always have to bleed blue.

Don’t ever ask for justice. They’ll call you angry and scorned. Don’t tell them how you fear for your babies. And the burden that will have to be born.

Don’t worry about your men and boys. Wondering if they’re return home today. In fact, just don’t be Black at all. Don’t all lives matter anyway?

SELF-ESTEEM BY MINNAH SARHAN

When I’m by myself and I close my eyes

I’m a star resplendent in the moonlight

I’m a sun incandescent, burning bright

I’m a bluebird soaring in boundless flight

I’m a rabbit frolicking in the night

I’m a songtress enchanting under spotlight

I’m a princess dwelling in castles of light

I’m a confection, saccharine delight

I’m a butterfly that has taken flight

I’m a soldier ready to valiantly fight

I’m a cunning fox evading all sight

I’m an author solacing in words I write

I’m a pilot embarking on a flight

I’m a knot inexorably strong and tight

Yet upon reopening my eyes I see

That ultimately, I only care to be me.

THE THORNE CHRONICLES, VOLUME 1

Chapter 1 By Omar Ron

The woods were unforgiving, dangerous, and haunted. Or so they said. I didn’t know anything about that but knew there was treasure. Let me explain. I had heard from my cousin that his father’s friend’s cat’s former owner’s fifth cousin thrice removed learned that there was treasure in the forest from a scruffy old salesperson.

I was walking along in the forest when I saw a cave on the side of a mountain. It must be where the treasure is hidden! I walked confidently into the cave, my bravado quickly escaping when the cave door closed behind me. I looked nervously around the cave and lit a torch, casting ominous shadows across the walls. In the corner, a faint glitter caught my eye. A gem! I reached up but could not get it. I picked up a rock and threw it at the onyx, hoping to dislodge it. It struck the black gem, and suddenly the ground opened up. I screamed as I went down but landed on a patch of pillows on the ground. Two large dogs with flaming eyes circle me, teeth gnashing. I pulled out my dagger and brandished it at the hellhounds, hoping for them to back off. They didn’t. I backed away slowly while the monsters paced. Then they pounced. I held out my dagger like a shield as if it could save me from the monsters. I closed my eyes, but the whining of the dogs told me that I survived. They ran away, tails between their legs, through a wall.

A few minutes later…

I walked along the hallway, past statues of mythical creatures and people, across a bridge over a raging river of lava, and ended up in front of a… wall. I looked at the wall, tried to stick my hand through the wall, and attempted to find some weak points. I didn’t succeed. In frustration, I threw my dagger at the wall. It passed right through. I stood up in wonder as the wall started to fall, a new passageway unlocked. I walked through the elaborately decorated passage. The floor was tiled gold and the white walls were crowded with paintings, taxidermied animals, and statues. High above, the roof was dotted with chandeliers and depictions of birds in flight. At the end was a staircase descending downward. I followed it hoping for a way out. It was pitch black. I lit my torch on fire and dropped it in surprise as it briefly illuminated a scruffy old salesperson standing next to a treasure chest. I picked up the torch, looked ahead, and saw that the scruffy old salesperson was a person with long, pointy ears and much taller than me. “Finally I get to meet you,” he said.

“Who are you?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I pointed my dagger at him.

He laughed and brushed it aside like a stick. “Don’t you know that silver can’t hurt elves? Or at least high elves.”

“Who are you?” I inquired again, my voice shaking with fear.

“I am Ilphas Elawynn. Now come and I will show you your fate.”

“Why would I listen to you?”

“Because you have no choice. Today, the light has been aligned, and my power is boundless!”

A rumbling sound emanated from the walls. And the ground shook, forcing me to the ground. “I’ll have to do this quickly,” he mumbled.

He raised his hands, and two beams of light pierced the earth meeting in a spot on the ground marked by a large chunk of amber. The rumbling grew closer knocking me off my feet yet again.

“Come on, go faster,” urged Ilphas, sweat appearing on his brow.

“At last!” he exclaimed as light engulfed both of us.

His triumph quickly faded as a sword stabbed where his heart was a moment ago. In runes written on the side was the name “Malice.” How could I read runes? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I had the feeling of falling. I looked around and saw only clouds floating around. The cave was nowhere to be seen. I tried to scream but the air rushing into my lungs prevented me. After what felt like hours of falling but must have been minutes I saw the ground rushing up toward me. I braced myself for impact and fell in a heap on top of a field of grass. Alive. I looked around in surprise. The sky was dark, even though it was just morning when I left home. There was a large stadium covered by grass between two hills. Shouts echoed across the green landscape, with one voice rising over the rest. “Welcome to the one hundred and forty-second quint annual event of the pangolin badger games!” a voice announced, “I’m Kebert. I’m sure you all are just waiting for the action, I know I am, but first, let me introduce the fifty participants!”

The audience roared with applause and the words were drowned out. I walked closer for a look at the action. I arrived at a ticket booth with a bored-looking person. “Ticket please.” he intoned.

“Tickets for what?” I replied, confused.

“Have you been living under a rock or what? The pangolin badger games of course! Biggest occasion this year!”

I turned to walk away when he said, “What about your tickets?”

“I don’t have any.”

“You can buy them for only twenty-six silvers!”

“Twenty-six what?!” I said turning around

“Silvers. We can exchange for other currencies as well,” he said sounding even more bored.

“Where am I anyway?”

“The Empire. Now, if you're not planning on buying a ticket, I suggest you leave.”

I turned away, walking across the large grassy field and onto a rocky slope leading to a village. It was large with many buildings. I seemed to be nearest to the store side where many people were walking about. I gingerly stepped down the slope, cautious of falling, and finally entered the village itself. It was much bigger up close. I could make out many store names through the crowds including Potions and Lotions, The Ancient Manticore. Suddenly a voice called behind me, “Hey, you!”

I turned. “Yeah you, in the blue pants!” The voice called again. The person finally caught up. She was a woman in her thirties, with short black hair, and long nails. “You’re Wymond Thorne Right?”

“Yes?”

“ I’ve been searching all over for you. You weren’t at your parent’s estate nor on the grounds…”

She trailed off but I was stuck on one phrase. Parent’s estate? But they didn’t live here…

MISTILERY, THE MAGIC GHOST CAT CHAPTER 1 BY RANA O.

“Mommy!” I yelled. It was eight a.m. in the morning and I was lying on the couch reading the book The Chronicles of Narnia.

“Yes dear?”

“Is there art class today?”

“No,” she answered, “BUT, can I ask you a favor? Will you clean yesterday's dishes for me please?”

“Okayyy” I hesitantly said. I jumped off the sofa and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. As I slowly rubbed and scrubbed the plates I heard my parents talking in the living room.

“What are we going to do with the house grandmother left?” my mom queried.

“Why don’t we move in?” my dad requested.

“Do you think the girls would like that?”

“I don’t know.” They suddenly stopped talking. Mom came into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee for herself. I continued to wash the platters. That night, at dinner, everyone was at the table. Daddy brought up the topic of grandma’s old house again. He told us we might move in. Of course Viola, my crazy sister, adored the idea of going to a huge house with her four-year-old mind, but I hated it! At the park, I’ve always heard rumors about how the large residence on Liliput Ave. was haunted, which happens to be grandma’s old home. Regarding my fear of ghosts, that house was a big no for me. I stayed silent while Viola planned how she was going to decorate her room. Mommy asked me what I thought of the house.

“I don't know...I’d rather stay here.”

“Think of the bright side, you’ll get to have your own office!” Mommy tried to persuade me, but I didn’t fall for it. I climbed up my bunk located on top of the living room to sleep.

The next morning my family got ready to tour grandma’s house and see how we needed to renovate it. Everyone was in a hurry.

“Sereena! Viola! Seerena I said !!!!!!” My mom was trying to wake us up as she fed my baby brother, Kyle. “Wake up you guys, and get ready, we’re leaving!”

“Leaving where, mom?” I said sleepily.

“To take a look at our new home! Come on, get dressed!”

“Ok” I got up reluctantly. I peeked into Viola’s room, and she was literally wrapping herself with bows. I brushed my teeth and got dressed. My dad called.

“Come on girls, I’m waiting.”

“OKAYYY,” I said as I yawned. When everyone got into the car, Daddy started driving. I felt my heart bumping up and down in my body as we got closer to our destination. The thought of ghosts brought cold shivers down my bones as it pushed me into piercing despair. How could I live with ghosts?! Drink with them, eat with them, sleep with them, and play with them! No way, no! I can’t stand a second with them! When we arrived, I refused to leave the car, for you can’t walk right into a maze of evil, right?

“Sereena, you aren’t coming?” Viola interrogated.

“Umm...nah! I’d rather stay in the car.” I threw my leg over the other and opened my phone.

“Oh come on scaredy cat! I know you’re afraid of ghosts, get out of the car!”

“No.”

“Ughh, fine, weirdo!” She snorted and walked away.

“Viola!” Mom screamed sternly, “Act nicely to your sister, she’s older than you!”

“Ok.” Her overbearing action turned into embarrassment.

I decided to get out of the car. Tentatively, I grabbed my bag and hopped off. Click clock! My dad opened the door of the house. Viola grabbed my arm and pulled me vigorously towards the entrance. All my family entered at once. We were all astonished as my sister said, “Wwwwoooowwww!”

“It’s so beautiful, with such intricate details!” I exclaimed. As we walked around the house, I noticed the big spiral staircase leading to the second floor. There were paintings and portraits hanging on the rusty walls. As well as it’s beauty, the house was super damaged. It had a lot of renovation to be done. My hands turned black as I brushed them on the staircase. Suddenly, the darkness on my palm disappeared and turned to a floating black bubble with red crossed eye-like things. It vanished out of sight and flew towards a crack in the wall.

This frightened me tremendously. I was certain the house had something eerie about it. I ran towards the direction of the bubble and peered through the dent. I saw some type of creature that was white. It had pointy ears like a cat, except that it stood on two legs instead of four. When that creature too saw the bubble, it’s eyes turned a glowing cyan color. An outline around the bubble appeared, it was the same color as the creature’s eyes. The bubble tried to escape but somehow it couldn’t move. It was like that cat thingy was controlling it. A while passed and I was still peering.

“Sister, are you coming? We're leaving!” Viola screamed from the door of the house.

“Ok! I’m coming!” I peered back in the hole. This time the bubble’s eyes had turned a creamish white color and had a white smile too. It was somehow smiling to the cat’s orders. I turned my head and ran as fast as I could trying to escape from this creepy house. I slowed my- self down by clinging onto the large wooden doors. I was exhausted from all that running.

When we finally arrived at home, I was completely pale. Thinking more and more about it, I got even more colorless. At dinner I couldn’t eat anything. I was still in shock about what happened today.

The next morning my mom called me to breakfast, but dad wasn’t at the table.

“Mom, where is dad?” I asked.

“He went to get hardware supplies, sweetie.”

“Why? Aren’t we hiring workers?” I guessed he went to go get supplies with the renewing of Grandma’s house.

“No. They refused to work at the house. They think it includes some peculiar organisms.” My mom said with some type of disappointment.

“Yaa,” My sister teased, “They're scared of ghosts too, just like you, booo!”

“Viola! Stop acting mean and finish your egg. Come on!” Mom finally screamed at her.

“Okaaayyy.”

Later, that afternoon, we visited grandma’s house again and started repairing. I was supposed to check if the lights were working, that was the worst job. I felt that one by one, each muscle was getting paralyzed from terror. Ghosts, dark room, weird and evil creatures - no way! This was too much to handle, but there was nothing I could do now. I had to explore the house and see if the lights worked. I managed to get through many rooms without abnormal things, except this one.

“BOO!”

“AGH” I screamed, “What was that for ha?” I realized my sister was in the room trying to scare me. About a month passed without any of the creepy things that happened. We had done a lot of fixing in the house. Everything was done, except the cleaning. Now I was at the mansion dusting the staircase when I heard an EEWWWEEWE WEE EWWE sounds. I thought they were some type of machine or vacuum my mom got to clean, so I ran down the staircase to the kitchen. My mom was wiping the cabinet’s corners when I entered.

“Mom, did you hear that noise?”

“No dear, what noise?”

“Umm…,” I froze, “N-e-ver-vver-mi-ii-nia-ind.” I ran back up to where the dent was, the dent in which I saw the bubble and the cat. The cat was there again, but this time sleeping, curled up on a cushion. I quietly tried to find an entrance to the room.

Then I realized...the bookshelf. There was one book on it that I couldn’t take off. I thought it was glued, but maybe not. I tried taking it out again, but it didn’t budge. After 3 more tries, it smoothly slid to the side and the wall split into two, leading to the cat’s room. I went inside and the wall automatically closed, making mechanical sounds. This made me stressed because there was no way out of the room.

I stared behind me and the cat awoke. She looked back and walked towards me. I too slowly went towards it, because I forgot that it was something like a ghost. The animal put its head under my hand. It had black feet, and dark hands. The tip of its ears seemed like they were colored the same tone as its feet too. It also had a black scarf -ike thing, but it was made out of fur. When I remembered this creature had interesting (and scary) abilities, I screamed out in horror. The animal bit my hand in response to my yell and vanished in front of my eye. A door appeared in the back of the room. It was the only exit. Forced to use it, I cautiously traveled towards the exit as I was squealing in pain. When I touched the door’s knob, the teeth marks sunk into my skin and formed a purple color. It reduced my pain, but panicked me even more. I ran through it and found myself sitting on the table (at my own house) eating dinner with the rest of my family.

Ta-daaa! Our house was all finished. It had sparkly floors and spotless walls. I didn’t do much of the work, (because I was scared) but I still helped a little. I kept the room secret, until my best friends came over. We all went to my bedroom, and I explained everything that happened. How I met the cat, the bubble, and teleported to my house. They were all left aghast.

“I don’t believe that!” Lana exclaimed shortly.

“It’s a joke, right Sereena?” Mallow asked.

“No, it’s not, guys!” I yelled.

“We want proof or I’ll go and tell your mom.” Mallow was not interested a bit.

“Wow guys, I thought you were my besties.”

“We are, but what you said is kinda unbelievable.” Lana was the only one who made sense. “Maybe some evidence?”

“Kay,” I finally gave in, “but no telling anyone, right?”

“Right!” They both said at the same time. I led them to the secret room and turned the book sideways (and nailed it this time!). I told them to enter. Then slowly the wall closed, and once again we were trapped. “Wow!” They declared.

“So this is really the place where you saw the cat, but I don’t see it.” Mallow got disappointed.

“Just wait a second, maybe it’s better this way. It did bite me last time.”

“What! Show us!” I pulled up my sleeve and showed them the purple mark. Then, suddenly, my arm started glowing and half of the purple stain floated out and turned into a dark fluid. It got split into two pieces while still flying in the air. Then Lana and Mallow’s arms started sparkling too. The liquid in the air got sucked into their skin. All of our body’s had identical stains now. We were all freaking out. Except for Mallow. She wasn’t scared of anything.

Then our arms suddenly got glued together by some mystical force and we were pulled by this force in the air. The purple stuff got extracted again, but this time it hardened and fell to the floor. After the ball rolled around, small flakes in the air started to appear. They combined together to form the shape of an animal. It had appeared again - the cat.

“Aww, it’s so cute!” Mallow called out, while I was trembling in fright.

“I guess you were right, Sereena.” Lana remarked. I think she was still trying to crack the case. Then she noticed something.

“Wait, look, over there, it looks like a scroll of paper.”

“Where?” Mallow queried. I was so scared that I just sat in a corner of the room and didn’t talk. They opened it.

“It looks like a news article.” Mallow noticed.

“It is!” Lana examined.

“Ok, it says,

1998, September 3rd. An ancient legend states that once there was a mythical creature shaped like a cat that was created by scientists using a ghost’s genes. It had special powers that no one else had. One day it encountered a woman that was injured. With its special abilities, it healed the woman. After that coincidence, the woman refused to let go of the special cat. She grabbed her and ran towards a huge estate. In the house, the woman followed the cat wherever it went to make sure it didn't run away and escape. Then one day, she passed away. The cat was still trapped in the house after the death of the woman. It was still unable to go anywhere. From that day on, the animal has lived in the large residence. The location of it appears to be the house of the famous Elizabeth Torchefin. Can it really be that she stole the sacred…

And that’s the end of it,” Lana read what was written on the scroll.

“It’s so poorly written. Repeating ‘woman woman’ and ‘cat cat’” Mallow stated.

“I bet you couldn’t have written a better story than that, Mallow!”

“Oh yes I could!”

“GUYS,” I shouted, “Please don’t fight again, please, ok?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Do you think that we encountered the special cat?”

“That does make sense,” Lana admitted. While we were discussing it, I realized that the creature was sleeping on Mallow’s lap. I had totally forgotten about it. Now my fear started shaking me again, draining all my energy, leaving me weak.

Lana said, “Why don’t we play together with the, umm...creature? Is that it’s name?”

“Ohh, we should name it too!” Mallow spoke excitedly.

“Ok,” I said. They were so excited that I didn’t want to disappoint them by saying no, even though I was horrified. We played tag, hide-seek, dodgeball, and many other fun games. We named the creature Mistilery after a whole hour of fighting over it. I guess I had so much fun that I totally forgot about my fear. Or maybe I enjoyed playing with the ghost so much that I overcame my fear. Whatever happened, I realized that ghosts weren’t something to be afraid of. Not all of them had to be bad. They could be good too like Mistilery.

It was the next day and we all agreed to meet up together so that Lana and Mallow to play with the ghost. But when we all gathered, we found a note left on the carpet. It read,

“It was very fun playing with you three. Thanks for the company (I loved the name you guys gave me). But I apologize - I had to leave. When you left for home yesterday, a door opened and gave me a chance to return home. Thanks for everything. I hope you like my gift.

-Mistilery”

We all looked at the floor.

“Look over there!” Lana pointed towards the ground.

There was a cute little kitten sleeping next to the note. Beside it was the ball created by the dark fluid.