The Ellipsis (2024-2025 School Year Edition)

2024-2025 School Year Edition

THE ELLIPSIS THE ELLIPSIS

The Undertow The Undertow

Candy Hunt Candy Hunt

Carrot Cake Carrot Cake

Home Home

Adventurer Kittens Adventurer Kittens

Yungbihn Douglas Yungbihn Douglas

Delaney Griffin Delaney Griffin

Anabelle Swidler Anabelle Swidler

Lacy Vetter Lacy Vetter

Nuri Agueros Nuri Agueros

Phoebe Cantor Phoebe Cantor

Nothing Good Happens at Midnight

Nothing Good Happens at Midnight

On This Farm On This Farm

Zachary Cho Zachary Cho

Eleonora Sirabella Eleonora Sirabella

Accepting Life’s Imperfections

Accepting Life’s Imperfections

Head Over Heels Head Over Heels

The

Janavi Kumaravel Janavi Kumaravel

Fynne Rose Fynne Rose

Skylar Gajwani Skylar Gajwani

Anita Gao Anita Gao

Charlotte, 12, NYC

And Per Se And Mouthful Of Words

And then I go quiet

And then I’m efficient

It goes to sleep and per se and wakes up

So much work

I was always at the end

Now I sit in the clouds

Above the useful seven

Am I more now?

I go to sleep & wake up

I go to sleep and per se & &

Economy of Words

Yungbihn, 17, LA

"There is no justice in the laws of nature, no term for fairness in the equations of motion. The Universe is neither evil, nor good, it simply does not care. The stars don't care, or the Sun, or the sky. But they don't have to! WE care! There IS light in the world, and it is US!"

Eliezer Yudkowsky

Alone in an uncaring universe, Specks on a dot in a Dark Forest of stars, We wait, and we bicker, make petty disputes, Forget our precarious place in its maw

Even as we claim to be free

We are bound to the service of the world we created

To the empty ambition and hopeless pursuit That define the lives of all in its service

We, its people, are bound to existence

By nought but the shallow perception of that which surrounds us

Never can a life filled with meaning and joy

Transcend the emptiness found in its dominion

Until such time as "natural desires," Evidently alight with acquisitive fires

Can be left behind in the wake of a Fundamentally different existence, This remains the price of our indifference

There is no love in the Sun's warm embrace, Yet no cunning in the brilliance of the stars, Physical laws may be empty of Justice

But, so too, are devoid of cruelty.

Our lives may not matter to our world, But they matter deeply to us.

If we truly wish to achieve our utopia

It is our charge to create a world we can trust

A world that we value above our own petty ingroups

A world where people are respected as people

A world where our interests are aligned with each other

A world where we are made equal.

The Undertow Delaney, 13, LA

my heart feels like it’s working double time. it’s going to burst.

it feels like a rush, a crash of a wave over your own head, pushing you down, and swirling you around in the undertow.

and yet, while feeling like you’re sinking, you feel like you’re living. like you’re flying.

but you still can’t catch your breath. and now you're falling, sinking, again. grasping at the air, and failing to reach it

even now, you still feel so, so, dangerously alive.

maybe, just maybe, the moments where you feel the closest to death, are the same moments when you feel closest to life.

The Candy Hunt

Anabelle, 12, LA

To my parents,

I know you love me very much and that's why you send my candy off But listen close because I see it’s better when the candy stays with me I work hard to collect that batch walking around till my feet are numb and my hands cannot tappity tap tap I dress up scary and set up the lawn so that others will trick or treat ‘till dawn I don't see why you say no every year But it’s like my candy just disappears Then, I find wrappers up the stairs and into your room I follow the trail until I find you eating them all!

Carrot Cake

Lacy, 11, West Palm Beach

I am like a lot of things. Like the towels in my school’s locker rooms, I’m tossed around from person to person and used to clean up their messes. Like the quilt I made for Grandma’s birthday, I’m a little knotted, but still lovable But, most of all, I am like carrot cake. Tangy and sweet and nutty. And just like when Mom and I bring carrot cake to Christmas each year, I look out of place next to the other options. And just like what happens every year, when someone tries me, they’re pleasantly surprised. But soon they get bored, and push me back onto ‘Planet Carrot Cake,’ which I’m the only resident of This cycle has been happening my whole life, so I wasn’t shocked when it started for about the 586,349th time. But for once, I was wrong.

Tiffany Harris: your typical popular girl. I never noticed her much, probably because my brain auto-classified her the same way it did the rest of her group: beep, beep, siren, siren, DO NOT ENGAGE Strangely, the same brain that issued this warning found a loophole; it technically isn’t engaging if you watch from afar.

So that’s exactly what I did, every day at recess. That was why when I was sneaking glances at their group snacking before going to play, heard the fast patter of Uggs on concrete and the swish of long hair at exactly 11:36 instead of 11:40 AM, I knew something was wrong And when the Tiffany Harris sat down across from me, I knew something was very wrong. I started picking at my salad, as if that would fix the awkwardness of the situation.

She sighed loudly, but I refused to look at her. I felt her harsh glare through my skull

Tiffany cleared her throat “EH-HEMMMM ”

Before she could make a louder sigh, I looked up at her. She flipped her hair nonchalantly and pretended to be startled. “Oh, hi.”

I nodded, too scared to respond. Silence. “Ooh, are those grapes?

Can I have one?”

I handed it to her reluctantly More silence

Annoyed, Tiffany suddenly blurted, “Why are you ignoring me? I came and sat down next to you and even started a conversation. Do you hate me or something?”

Shocked, I started to tell her, “No, why would I hate you? I–” but was stopped by the familiar click-clack of black heeled boots. Suddenly, Alice Tasbain, the ‘leader’ of Tiffany’s group, made an appearance at my table I wondered what it was that was attracting everyone to my table today. However, Alice gave off a different vibe than Tiffany did. Her face was scrunched up and red, and Tiffany’s was starting to look the same.

But that all changed when Alice told her, “You’re uninvited to my house today ”

As we listened to Alice click-clacking away, Tiffany’s face went white.

“But she knows… my mom… working…”

Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of bravery, I cleared my throat and made the best decision I’d made in a long time. “Tiffany, do you want to come over after school today?”

Many good things followed this simple question Inside jokes, sleepovers, a best friend pact. Tiffany was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

So when her birthday came, I did not disappoint. I mean, she thought I did. I showed up to school with lots of birthday wishes, a card and that was it It was a nice card, but I could see the disappointment on her face, probably remembering the painting she worked on for two months to give to me for my special day. This made me smile even bigger. Everything was going according to plan.

“You’re still coming to my house today, right?” I asked as she changed from rainboots into her now too-small Uggs.

“Yeah,” she said as she grunted. The shoe finally went on, and we sat down at our desks. I felt like a criminal mastermind.

After school, I told Tiffany to close her eyes as we headed to my house. She gave me a weird look, but agreed anyway. She looked like she was about to cry as she looked at my kitchen covered in decorations, adorned with presents, and most importantly, with a cake in the middle of it.

She gave me a squeeze and asked, “Is this carrot cake? I love carrot cake! It just tastes so different every time I have it, you know? It’s so underrated, people don’t even know how good it is!” Tiffany started taking a bite before any pictures got a chance to be taken, but I didn’t even care. My huge smile said it all: I was the luckiest girl on Planet Carrot Cake.

9, NYC

The day I went there, I saw girls singing songs underwater, weaving baskets with vibrant colors and textures Baskets made out of what I assume to be yarn and string. The skin of the underwater people (nymphs) was blue and almost seethrough, their hair all different shades of blue and purple. They had clothes that looked like sea foam. They stood with a certain rigidness.

I dove into the lake that I had once lived in, my old home.

I did not know what had given me the courage to come home. Maybe I was hoping to be with the magical creatures I had been with most of my life. My version of family.

I inhaled water, more water, and more. I could still breathe! As I inhaled, I exhaled a tiny part of me that had doubted that I could still do this What had given me the courage to come home, I was not sure Maybe I missed my friends after years of living with humans.

I saw the coral homes, the fish swimming around us, and the little bubbles and tiny ripples of water and the little waves crashing in the distance. The mix of sand and seaweed tickling my feet.

But then, my water powers were back. I was home. Sweet, sour, home. Home! After all those years, home!

The cool, soft sand brushing against my skin. The crashing waves I could distantly hear, big ones, little ones. Just like before.

My home. My life. All ripped away, except now they were back. I was now myself, no longer human, no longer nymph, but water spirit

I have always been different, but now I could see why. I guess I did know, but did not understand. I guess I could not be “normal” if I could breathe underwater. I was no longer wandering, but back home. Safe. I ran after my nymph friends, laughing and talking like old times. We laughed, talked, and caught up. Just like old times. Singing, dancing, being us. Finally comfortable in our own skins. All of us, together, just like it used to be. Water, air, fire, earth. All the things that make up life. For water nymphs, dryads, and water spirits, our main element is water. It is how we breathe, how we live. I am excited to be back, but nervous. Will people doubt me? Will they think I'm weird? Freaky? Bizarre? Humans are all of those things, but am I? Will humans miss me? Will I miss them? I don’t think so.

This is home. The bubbles are our air. The waves, our wind. The coral, our home. Why, yes, I think I have found my way home.

Adventurer Kittens

Phoebe, 8, NYC

Once upon a time there was a brave adventurer, and she wanted to get a lost temple made of gold! But the adventurer was sick, so she sent her 3 kittens instead. The kittens’ names were Ruby, Emerald, and Crystal. They all had belts with lassos. They took a big leap out of the window, and landed on a tree. The tree was dark brown with bright green leaves. The kittens climbed the tree and saw the nearest airport. They jumped off the tree and landed on a black car. Then, they jumped on a white car. From white, to blue, to red, to brown, to orange, to yellow, to green, to purple, to pink, and finally to the airport. The airport was white and small. The kittens sneaked past the bag check, security, and then ate a guy’s lunch. They jumped into a suitcase, but they had to be really quiet because they might have gotten caught. It was super hard because inside the suitcase was a tickling machine. And it was really, really hot. They were getting hotter by the moment, because they were moving around when they got tickled. They got out of the suitcase and saw that the plane was about to crash! They quickly grabbed some parachutes from a bag, put them on, jumped out of the plane, and saw the adventurer's bird. The bird had a letter in its beak. The letter said: Dear Ruby, Emerald, and Crystal, please get me a pineapple. Love, your owner.

“Meow,” said Ruby.

“Meow meow,” said Emerald.

”Meow meow meow,” said Crystal.

Suddenly they landed in a very, very, very cold place, Antarctica. Suddenly, the kittens grew a lot more fur. It was getting dark, so they found snow and ice and started to build an igloo. The igloo was in the shape of a cat, and it was huge. They slept in the igloo and woke up at 4:00 They were super duper tired They set out again, but they were so tired that they sleepwalked all the way, so then their paws were wet. They hissed when they got their paws wet. They made a boat of ice. They paddled until the boat started melting. They saw where the nearest land was, but it was a mile away. They jumped out of the boat, put on scuba gear, and started to scuba dive. They chased every fish they saw. They saw some dolphins and started to ride them!

In ten minutes they were on land. They checked the map and saw they were in a ring of islands, and the golden temple was in this ring of islands! They saw a pineapple and put it in the backpack. They started swimming again. But this time they rode sharks. It was a little bit faster. When they arrived, there was a thick jungle. They got distracted playing in the sand, but they saw the temple! They got closer, and called a bunch of friends. They lifted it to the sand and called an airplane. They went home and gave the pineapple to their owner.

“Let's go on an adventure!” was the first thing the owner said.

12, NYC

George and Quincy had a perfectly normal life before a certain Friday December thirteenth of 2018.

Of course, the Friday, and thirteenth, should have tipped them off, as long as they understood the term ‘horror movie.’ But, being unsuperstitious and ‘scientific,’ the two young boys went to Defi’s Pet Shelter at Beacon Avenue and Freedom Street. They, obviously, did not know that they would be walking into a haunted pet shelter. Hmm… Doesn’t quite have that ring of other haunted areas, right? Whatever. It was a pet shelter, however much you may wish it to be a dark and stormy manor, or a creepy old house on the hill. It was a pet shelter, and a clean one at that.

Recently, Defi, the owner of Defi’s pet shelter, had bought a ‘cheap bargain once-in-a-lifetime superdeal clean modern claw machine perfect for small businesses’ off iBay, from a certain seller named Timothy1431 2012.

Defi, being someone rather naive and trusting, did not stop to think of why someone would sell a ‘bargain superdeal claw machine’ at a 90% discount.

Some might think it was a lemon. Perhaps too squeaky, or too easy to win with, or too bright. Almost nobody, however, would think ‘haunted.’

At a risk of being cliche, I might say ‘dun dun dun.’

So, where was I?

Ah, yes, our two unfortunate heroes, George and Quincy, walked into Defi’s Pet Shelter.

“Hullo,” said Quincy.

“Hi there! I’m Defi!” replied Defi enthusiastically.

“Cool. We’re here to buy, well, a pet.”

“Of course you are! That’s what we do. We sell pets.”

“Great,” said Quincy.

“Do you have any cats?” said George.

“No, no, George! We agreed to get a dog!”

“No! Cats! Cats are better!”

After a couple hours passed of the loud arguing, and Defi left to ‘get some water,’ they finally agreed to get a cat. This was, of course, obviously the right choice as cats are definitely, completely, 100% better than dogs.

“Hullo,” said George, striding towards the counter, “Could we get a cat?”

He didn’t notice, however, that Defi wasn’t there – that they thought these two boys were maybe a bit much, and decided to ditch. He did, however, notice that the lighting seemed to have gone dark. Of course, it didn’t suddenly or flashily go off, nor did it dramatically sputter.

It rather slowly, vaguely dimmed.

Defi’s Pet Shelter was closed. And in it, George and Quincy.

“George, we’re locked in!”

“We are!?”

“Yeah! The store’s closed, and the lights are off!”

“Ah ”

“This is all your fault! We could have gotten a nice dog and politely sauntered out – but NO! You had to get a cat!”

“Hey! This is your fault, not mine! We shoulda just gotten a cat in the first place!”

“Ugh! You’re impossible. I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Well, I’m not either.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Minutes passed, with the two brothers sitting in stone-cold silence. Soon, George and Quincy both realized they were, well, rather hungry.

“Let’s get some food, Quincy,” George said, breaking the silence.

“Quincy? Come on, let’s get some food ”

“I’m still not talking to you.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

Reluctantly, slowly, the younger boy (by 2 hours! George is so much older!) rose, George helping him up.

“So, where’s food?”

“Um… well… you see, I haven’t quite gotten to that part yet.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

“Well, they probably have something to, well, feed the pets, right?”

“That’s your plan? DOG food?”

“Well, you can have the dog food. I, however, will have cat food. Wait. No. Not cat food. Hmm… nevermind.”

Quincy gave George the best ‘how stupid are you’ look, before realizing that it wouldn’t carry over in the darkness. So, Quincy quite reasonably said: “How stupid are you?”

“Shut up.”

Quincy, out of the corner of his eye, thought he saw a red, neon flash illuminate the claw machine, outside of its normal, faint yellow glow.

“Did you see that, George?”

“See what? I can’t see in this darkness!”

“No, the claw machine! It lit up red!”

“That’s not funny.”

“It did!”

“If you don’t stop lying, I’m telling Mum!”

They were so caught up in their arguments they didn’t notice a second flash from the machine.

10 minutes to midnight.

What, you’re saying it’s too cliche to have it happen at midnight? Tough. It’s my story. Midnight is when bad stuff happens™.

Another red flash, sudden this time, lit up the darkness like a firework exploding, alone in the darkness.

“Quincy?”

“Yeah?”

“You weren’t lying about the claw machine, were you?”

“Nah.”

“So it wasn’t like the time you said our fridge was haunted, or the roller coaster in Disney World was creaking, or there was a monster under my bed, or the t-”

“Hush, my inferior twin.”

“Or the time you said all our Halloween candy was poisoned, and then you ate all of it? Or when you said spaghetti was pronounced ‘Imadoofus’? And then I asked the waiter ‘can I have some… “Imadoofus’?’ And then he said ‘Look, kid, it’s been a long day. Just tell me what you want,’ and then I said ‘Are you kidding me? I adore “Imadoofus”?’ And then I got kicked out of the restaurant? Or –”

The claw machine lit up. That shut up George rather quickly. 9 minutes to midnight.

“George, we should get outta here.”

“Yeah, but, the doors are locked, and I’m not Superman, so I can’t quite punch them out. So, how are we gonna get out then?”

“Ah, you haven’t developed your superpowers yet? I knew you were inferior.”

“You’re lying!!! Just like when you said that our neighbor was really Michael Jackson, and I asked f-”

“Okay, okay, maybe a bit.”

The claw machine illuminated.

“OH!”

It lit again. And again, before it started flickering.

“Quincy, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know.”

The glare of the machine intensified, and soon the store was lit up by the malevolent shine. The twins, both Quincy and the supposedly inferior George, were silent. They had to get out 8 minutes to midnight.

Desperately, frantically, the two boys started banging on the walls, the doors, terrified. No dialogue was spoken – just mutual horror and self-preservation instincts. Pound. Pound.

Pound

They, unfortunately, however much they could have tried, could not so much as dent the walls. Terror set in, with the darkly glowing background set by the claw machine. 7 minutes to midnight.

“Quincy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we gonna die?”

“Well, yes… but actually no.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you might, as the inferior twin, but I, being superior, would clearly last ages.”

The silence that followed was deafening. (Oxymoron!!!)

6 minutes to midnight.

The two boys, awkwardly illuminated by the red, malign glow of the machine.

“Something’s gonna happen, Quincy. Something’s gonna happen soon.”

Silence.

“Quincy? I said so-”

“I heard you.”

“Well, I th-”

“We should make a plan.”

5 minutes to midnight.

Of course, however Quincy may say they should make a plan, he didn’t continue his thought, just sullenly sat with George, feeling the deep, deep wrongness of the machine’s accursed light.

Let’s make a plan For real, now Come on, Quincy ”

“Yeah, but, we don’t know what it’s gonna do. We can’t plan for every scenario.”

“Well, we can start. Scenario #1- it starts shooting lasers!”

Quincy groans.

“George, it’s not gonna start shooting lasers at us!”

“It might. You don’t know!”

4 minutes to midnight.

The boys painstakingly talked. Scenarios ranging from an explosion, to time travel, to, well, lasers.

“That’s scenario fifteen.”

“No! That’s fourteen.”

“That’s actually fifteen.”

“Fourteen.”

“Of course, my inferior twin wouldn’t realize how to count.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“If you call me inferior one more time, as soon as we get out, I’m telling Mum!”

“If we get out.”

The words sunk in. If they got out. If they survived the night.

3 minutes to midnight.

“Let’s get back to planning our escape, where I have heroic actions and you just… Kinda whimper alongside me as the inferior twin!”

“Why, Quincy We gotta finish Scenario 14 5?”

Of course, 14.5 was the not-quite-14, not-quite-15 halfway point that they managed to agree upon.

The boys sat in silence, thinking of the evil, glowing red claw machine.

s if on cue, (And who’s to say it wasn’t?) it lit up, more intensely, brighter, worse.

2 minutes left to midnight.

As if on cue, (And who’s to say it wasn’t?) it lit up, more intensely, brighter, worse.

2 minutes left to midnight.

Timidly, afraid, the two boys lightly spoke.

They were silent, cowed by the malign claw machine. The tension, well, intensified. The air practically crackled with nervousness.

The fiendish, baleful machine pulses evilly, going faster, quicker, brighter.

Soon. Very soon.

1 minute left to midnight.

[midnight]

“So, that’s Scenario 15.5.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s go to the next one!”

“Dunno, that one seems pretty legit. I wanna go over it more.”

“Yeah.”

…

“Quincy?”

“Yeah, I heard you ”

A cackling, evil, voice sounded, originating from the machine, sounding as if it was stirred from the very depths of hell.

“And I… I heard you too!”

Scream.

11, NYC

For once, I wish that the weather would reflect my mood. It was always sunny and dry and hot, but look at me, always gloomy and cold and always stuck with this ugly, knotted-up hair. Once again, on this farm, as simple and the same as anything, I stood there, patting down the dry soil with that huge fork-like farming tool I’ve used for so long.

I liked making comparisons of things on this farm. It was a way to at least pretend I knew something else, because really, I don’t, just this good old farm and the good old farming ways. I just really wish I could go out, to a beach place, or a mountain, or a city! I had never seen the ocean. Never been in a cold place. Never seen the tiny taxi cabs from a distant, higher view on one of those huge buildings called skyscrapers, with the flickering lights in those skyscrapers, twinkling like small fairies in a night garden. I was sick of this plain, dry rural life. Just sick of it.

“Alice, lunch! Come on, the food is getting cold!” Papi called. I knew my grandfather would get mad if I didn’t get there soon. I ran.

I got to the table out of breath, grabbed the chair and hopped into it. I leaned back, but so hard that I fell and Mami and Papi let out a choked laugh. I got up awkwardly and sat back at the table, put my feet on the table, grabbed my plate and started eating.

“Omlet, eggs freshly picked this morning from the chicken coupe!” Papi said, his voice bouncing with joy. It took very little to make him happy.

“Papi, you don’t say freshly picked eggs,” I say.

“Oh, you’re right! Guess you learned from the best, huh?” he said. Mami laughed and gave me some cornbread.

“Here, have this.” she said.

I ate quietly while my grandparents talked about who was going to wash the dishes and who was going to clean the stable and what seeds to plant and what dinner to have, all the usual. Of course I was going to clean the stable like always, and plant the seeds whenever they made up their mind on whether I should plant cherry tomatoes or sunflower seeds Like I said, all the usual!

As soon as I finished eating, I quickly put the dishes in the sink and lunged for the door. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Mami. Her eyes were very shiny and clear, like they were trying to talk to me altogether.

“What’s wrong, Mami?” I asked.

“Nothing’s wrong, dear, just that you were awfully silent during lunch and you decided to leave so quickly.”

“Mami, I’m fine. I just wanna go clean the stable as quickly as possible, that’s all.” That wasn’t all.

“Look, honey, just know that if you want to talk, we’re here for you. We just…” her voice trailed away.

“You just what?”

“We feel that you’re drifting from us.” she said quietly. “And since we lost your parents, I feel that I speak for me and Papi when I say that we don’t want to lose you too.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve We hugged, then I marched out

Stable Blues

The stable smelled rotten like always, and I decided to do a horse count before cleaning it.

“Minnie, Chipster, Rocky, Brancher, Muddy, Starla, Roy, Archie…” my voice trailed off as I counted each horse, calling him or her by name. That’s right, him or her. Many people call animals it, but they’re alive and have a beating heart just like any of us.

I stopped at Sky, the last horse, my favorite of all, my horse, beige with a white and brown maine. She’s so beautiful and kind, too.

“Oh, Sky,” I said, “Mami’s worried. So is Papi. I know they want me to talk to them, but…” Just like Mami, my voice trailed away. “How can I talk to them? HOW? They wouldn't understand and whatever they do understand, they will oppose. I want to go to the city.” I hugged Sky tightly around her large waist. My tears fell silently on her soft coat, looking like spots of ink on a paper or parchment, like I had just used a leaking pen. I stared at them for a while.

One of the things that Mami and Papi didn’t know was why I called Sky, Sky. They think I called her that because I am always looking up above at the beautiful clouds and the baby blue canvas called the sky, and overall, that is partly true, but the real reason I called her Sky is this: Sky, short for skyscraper.

Sky is my favorite thing, just like skyscrapers are even though I don’t know them so well, so I mashed the two things together to make one beautiful thing.

“Hey Sky, what do you say about cheering me up?”

Before I knew it, Sky was galloping faster than lightning, (and also as faster than the horse Lightning, sometimes called McQueen), and into the woods, the green cotton candy like trees with the birds singing a melancholic tune. At least since the weather didn’t match my mood, the songs of the birds always did.

The ride in the woods made me feel much better, and later I went into Mami's and Papi's room to get a clothing pin and got to cleaning the stables. An unexpected surprise awaited me there.

“Hey, cowgirl! How are you, Alice?” It was Robin, one of my best friends on the farm, (other than Sky, of course), who was waiting for me in the stable!

“Robin!” Fifteen, bold looking, she was a great friend to have, other than the fact that if she ever offered to help on the farm she wouldn’t actually: she hates working.

“You forgot your clothing pin!” I laughed.

“And haven’t I noticed! It smells worse than my dad’s feet after harvesting month, and you and I both know that that is saying something!”

We laughed and then as I swept, (and she watched), and I dumped out the horses’ dump, (and she watched), and I washed the stable floors, (and she watched), we talked about our dream to go to a big city and the fear I had to tell my grandparents and the encouragement she had towards me so that I could do so.

“Ok, you may almost be more stubborn than me, and that’s saying something!” she said.

“Do you realize how much you say, ‘Blah blah blah, blah blah blah and that’s saying something!’?”

“No.” she said innocently, but so innocently that we had to laugh very hard

“So…” she started saying, “tomorrow’s a big day! You excited?”

“Not unless Nayami or my grandparents buy me tickets to the city!” Nayami was another friend of ours, but she opposed this idea of ours.

“Do you realize how much you say, ‘Blah blah blah, blah blah blah and that’s saying something!’?”

“No.” she said innocently, but so innocently that we had to laugh very hard.

“So…” she started saying, “tomorrow’s a big day! You excited?”

“Not unless Nayami or my grandparents buy me tickets to the city!” Nayami was another friend of ours, but she opposed this idea of ours.

“Well, bye!” We hugged and I went back to my house. Happy? Sad?

I don’t know. But what I haven’t told you yet is this: tomorrow is my birthday. All these secrets, this sadness, I don’t know. This might be my worst birthday yet.

Criminal Wind

I woke up to the dry, bitter winter air of Texas county. I couldn’t sleep. I checked my alarm clock. 3:07. That meant that I had been 13 for three hours and seven minutes already without knowing it.

The first thing I did was run to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. I needed to see if I looked any older. I was officially a teenager, after all, so there were bound to be differences, right?

I checked again and again and again. My body looked pretty much the same My face, everything I simply couldn't help but wonder why. That’s when it hit me:

Maybe there wasn’t any physical change because there wasn’t going to be physical change, but change in spirit. Maybe minds will change. Maybe Mami and Papi might have gotten me the present I want the most.

I ran to the kitchen and warmed up some bread. It was still dark out.

The sun would rise in about two and a half hours, and that was far too much time for me to sit in bed and do nothing.

The bread was warm. I plopped on the couch and added some jam to it. It tasted bitter. One of your failed attempts to make jam, Papi, I thought, You know you have to let Mami do the fruit precessing things. I added a pinch of sugar and cuddled up, the air cutting through my face. I fell asleep even with that wind assault.

A Walk In the Night

I woke up with blinding light piercing through my eyes. I had never seen such brightness. It was like all the light was against me and I was in the darkness. Maybe all I needed to do was step into the light..?

So I did. That light was nothing but the light from the city. The city that never sleeps! But how did I get there? Did Nayami drive me in my sleep? Did Mami and/or Papi get tickets and also brought me in my sleep?

I walked around the city for a while. The park was huge. I had never seen such a thing. I think it might have been as big as the ocean; I’ve heard stories saying that the ocean is huge. I think that this park might have been even bigger.

saw huge people, but not like any other people I’d ever met They were, as I said, huge, and made of marble or stone. They must not have liked outsiders very much, because when I greeted them, all they did was stay still, cold, like in a way of saying that they don’t want to talk to me.

Maybe it wasn't a matter of where I was going or where I was from, maybe it was just the way things were, and the way things were are my life, and I control that life. Maybe all I need is a chance.

I chased that chance all the way to the end of the forest and stopped to look back. I saw miles and miles of trees, and if I squinted real hard I could see a tiny dot at the end of the trees. That one tiny dot made me all I am today. And who knows? Maybe the city isn’t as far away from that tiny dot as I think it is…

Accepting LIfe’s Imperfections

Janavi, 13, D.C.

I’ve included myself in stories, but this is the first time I’m writing about truth.

It isn’t an autobiography, per se. Think of it more as a way for me to vent in the form of literature. Again, this is the first time I’ve ever written about myself. Although I know this may never reach the eyes and ears of others, I wish for this to serve as a guide of sorts May the readers of this benefit from it in some way My friend, who we’ll call Mel, has written another guide to life, a document titled Life Tips. It is quite valuable, despite being merely a collection of their experiences. It includes tips on every subject, from school and homework to health and safety. This will not contain nearly as much variety, but I believe, in the field it explores, it will suffice. My serious negative feelings all started when one of my other friends told me that she was suicidal I obviously worried for her, so I tried to care for her. She vented to me too much, and I started to become depressed too, filled with her depressed ideas. To make matters worse, she later confessed that she had a crush on me, making me want to care for her even more. The gay girl friend trap, as Mel calls situations like this. To be honest, I’m not sure why I hadn’t split up with her in the beginning. She had done nothing for the friendship It was always me starting the conversations with her It was only I who was putting effort into the friendship It took me months to realize that my friend was harming me very much and barely helping me. Even then, I was reluctant to sever my ties with her. I decided to gradually decrease the time I spent talking to her. I would still talk to her, but not often. Even that proved difficult. Eventually, and it took much time, but I completely stopped talking to her. Obviously, that sort of toxic friendship wasn’t without an impact I was still not feeling great for a while

That all changed when I finally thought of the “perfect” coping mechanism.

The sadness, the depression, it had all weighed down on me. I never wanted to feel that way again Although I did not realize I was doing this at first, I decided to push all sadness away, to force myself to be happy I told myself that I was just being optimistic, that I was seeing the good in every bad day. I would search every corner of my reasoning to convince myself that my day wasn’t ruined because of one minuscule issue. However, this ended up backfiring, as I soon became stressed about making myself happy. I began to freak out whenever something was going slightly wrong I didn’t realize how wrong this coping mechanism was It was just another way of keeping my emotions bottled up

There was another reason I was doing this, and it connected to my depressed friend in a more direct way. In the days when we were very close, she was the only person that I spoke much with.

Yes, I had other friends, but I had grown so attached to her that I only talked to those friends when we shared a class. Because of this, I did not forge close relations with the others, and I was left with no friends in the wake of the severed ties of my friendship with my depressed friend I was left scrambling to make close friends. Of course, to forge a greater bond with my friends, they first needed to find me appealing. People will find a happy, energetic person more appealing than a depressed one, unless they’re into emos. Therefore, I ensured that I was always happy around my friends. I wanted to keep them interested, stressing out whenever there was silence after our conversation ended, hurriedly trying to think of another topic to breach. Worrying about getting them to like me, instead of enjoying our good times together, was obviously not a good way to spend my time with my friends, but I thought it was what had to be done. After we’re close, I don’t need to try, I would tell myself.

Everything suddenly turned on its axis after a couple months of this madness. It all happened when I viewed the music video of a certain song one Friday morning. It involved adult themes, the most prominent of these being suicide. It wasn’t as though I had never really heard of the horrors of suicide. In fact, someone close to me has attempted suicide twice, and a distant relative of mine had actually finished herself off. However, it was the suicide in the song, portrayed in such a sad, hopeless light, that got to me. The method of suicide was also one I was unaware of, further shocking me. Lastly, it was perfectly timed with another scene, so I jumped back when this scene was played. Obviously, that wasn't something I wanted to soil my Friday, but it certainly did. And to think that YouTube was graceful enough to provide a suicide warning, and to think that I was foolish enough to ignore it! However, I’m indebted to that song, although I unfortunately cannot mention the name of the song, for fear of the possibility of young readers searching for it and being temporarily scarred like I had been. This song would not elude my thoughts, making me depressed for the rest of the day and several days after. I don’t remember the details well, although this occurred about a month ago. However, I believe I was even a little detached from my friends. This song that refused to leave me in peace posed a problem, as I had a test for an extracurricular a week after. The extracurricular was a class designed to further bestow upon me the knowledge of Tamil, a language spoken in South India. Although Tamil is my parents’ native language, I struggle to speak it, hence the class. However, even students who are quite fluent in the language still take the class, meaning it is for a higher comprehension level than mine. The only reason I’m still taking this class is so that I can achieve my Maryland Seal of Biliteracy, which I can also gain through my Spanish class.

So in truth, there is no need to take it. I am considering discontinuing this class, and it is not one of my commitments. I hastily completed my weeks of piled-up homework that day while juggling the stress and depression that had been bottled up for so long and had finally been released by that song. It wasn't as hard as I expected, but it wasn't easy either.

A few hours later, I nervously took my seat as my test was handed to me. Like the homework, the test wasn’t as hard as I expected, but it wasn't easy either. I left the building actually feeling relieved. I was even a little, if only just a little, more cheerful.

It would be reasonable to conclude that the test was the beginning of a positive turn in my life, but the future bears many surprises. Although I’m doing much better now, thanks to my Thanksgiving vacation, I cannot say I’m completely fine.

There is someone close to me who is depressed, let’s call her Kanade. To avoid confusion, this person isn't the depressed friend mentioned earlier. The previous week, I vented to her a little too much, telling her one of my depressing ideas. I could have told anybody else, but for some reason I felt the need to tell her. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s because I trust her a lot.

She informed me a week later that what I said gave her a panic attack, and was making her uncomfortable. When I read that message, at seven in the morning, I was filled with crushing guilt. I hastily typed up a response to this unexpected yet understandable message. I apologized and told her that I wouldn’t be so careless again. Having had all optimism drained by a single message, I resolved that I would not speak with her again, thinking this was for the best, lest this was to repeat itself.

I believe all I wanted was to not accept that this had happened, to let myself forget about her and all the problems she carried with her, or rather, all the problems I had given her.

However, when I told my friends at school of this situation I was caught in, no, this situation I had caused for myself, they advised that I talk to Kanade about what had happened. Upon considering this, I was, in truth, glad to have an excuse to talk to her.

When I reached home, the first thing I did was open Discord. I let Kanade know that I felt very guilty and wanted to reach a compromise. She told me that she understood, and that all she wanted was to express her feelings to me. Our exchange after that was awkward, and would have fizzled out, if it had not been for my asking how I made her feel uncomfortable I found out soon enough, and promptly apologized, following with telling her my idea of not speaking with her again. She responded with the accusation that I was guilt tripping her.

I was horrified by this accusation. I never meant to give her the notion that I was trying to take advantage of her. More than that, I was angry. I was merely expressing my ideas, but to be shut down like that! Fueled by an outburst of anger, I typed up a response, telling her that I wasn’t trying to guilt trip her However, what I typed sounded more like I was trying to manipulate her than making a cold remark, which didn’t help my case at all. I waited for a response, at the edge of my seat. Unfortunately, that was the time that my parents chose to jerk me back into reality.

My father demanded that we practice math together, reprimanding me for talking with my friends. And that was when I lost it. My mother already knew about Kanade’s depression, but my father was given some insight into her situation. Upon hearing this, my father tried to force my feelings out of me. He shouted at me to talk about my feelings.

I obviously omitted all the details about the arguing and the tears. This was around the time that my father told me that we would be meeting up the following weekend to watch a movie. I wanted things not to be awkward between us, and I informed her of just that.

My mother was arguing with him, supporting me, telling him that he needed to accept that I didn’t feel comfortable sharing my feelings with him, but he still would not budge.

I tried to walk away, but my father grabbed my wrist so tight that it hurt, stopping me.

Still gripping my wrist, he barked at me to disclose my thoughts to him. I know he meant well, but he should have known better than to grab and yell at someone who was feeling upset. My mother was also yelling, and they were both so close to me; their voices filled my ears

My six-year-old sister cried, begged them to stop fighting. On top of that, Kanade’s words swirled around in my head, repeating themselves. Honestly, now you’re guilt tripping me, and I hate when people do that. There were too many voices. I needed to get away. I needed some space to think without all these voices cluttering in my head, crushing me. I screamed at my parents to stop, tears trickling down my face.

I do not remember much of what happened afterward, despite it having occurred only a few days ago. I remember that my parents had a very big argument, which resulted in my mother locking herself in their bedroom. My father banged on the door, demanding her to open it, which only happened after at least five minutes. They managed to settle their dispute, however, and turned to face their next task: placating me.

I admire how much my parents do for me, even if I do not always express it. I’m eternally grateful for their love and support. My parents sat me down in the living room, and although my father still clung to the deluded idea that I must talk to him immediately, he did less so.

I told my parents that I wasn't ready to talk about it, and my mother respected that. My father was more reluctant to accept that, but he eventually did. However, he prohibited me from using the computer. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, he left to use the bathroom, leaving me all alone in the living room.

Of course, my natural desire was to turn the computer on and read Kanade’s response. I walked towards the computer, knowing that it was a bad idea, knowing that it would leave me feeling even worse, but not caring. All I wanted was to end this. And I was right about it ending badly. Kanade’s response did make me feel worse.

She was so brash, so insolent, as to tell me in my face that I was lying. If I was mad before, I was furious now Moreover, she was impatient with me, asking annoyedly if I would respond. However, what caught me from losing my temper was her last message. She told me that she didn’t mean to be rude, but she didn't feel that her feelings were acknowledged. Her feelings were not being acknowledged? What had I been doing the entire time? Thinking about her feelings and apologizing, that’s what. Although these thoughts had not occurred to me then, I was still angry. I told her that I was acknowledging them, but in a slightly cold manner I also told her to be patient, which was likely not the best thing to say to a person for whom I had caused a panic attack.

Somehow, she was able to handle it, at least from what I perceived, and I can be quite perceptive of emotions. Still though, it was over a text message, and the emotion discerned from it is nowhere near the emotion discerned from having an in-person conversation. Kanade told me that what I said was really hurtful, making me guiltier, if that was even possible, and what I said brought back bad memories.

I was about to respond to her, but just then, my father caught me, and turned off the computer. I decided to text her on my Apple Watch, but my father saw this, too, and confiscated my watch.

I was left to sit on the couch and wallow in my immense guilt. Fortunately, later on, my father told me that I should check in with Kanade, and I was glad, even though I knew it might hurt me. He returned my watch, and I apologized for taking so long to respond, telling her that my parents wanted to talk to me.

Thankfully, she understood, and agreed with me, although our conversation still proceeded awkwardly.

We more or less reached a solution, making a decision to stray from depressing topics. However, I am noticing things clearing up between us I hope everything will be mostly fine by the time we go see the movie.

To all those who are experiencing something similar, I have a few words for you. You are not alone. Many people go through the same, if not worse, experiences. It certainly will pass if you give it time to heal, and if you take steps to recover as well. Your problems today, unless they are very impactful to your life, will likely cease to exist twenty, perhaps even ten years from now.

And if you said or did anything idiotic like I did, and this is advice that Mel themself told me, you cannot control people’s reactions to your actions.

However, you can control your actions themselves. Instead of dwelling on the unchangeable, focus on how you can improve and not repeat the same mistake. Please do not indulge in rash behaviors, such as self-harm or suicide. As Mel puts it, “there are much better coping mechanisms out there.”

I have a word for those who have yet to experience this as well. You hopefully learned to cut toxic friends off, no matter how fun the friendship is or how good of a listener your friend is.

Even if you choose to remain in the friendship solely for their benefit, I warn you that it will end badly. You must find the courage, wisdom, and power to sever all, or at least most, ties.

Also, I know many people stress about being stressed, and it can be difficult to break out of that habit. I still do this while knowing that it is the wrong coping mechanism. When this happens, I let myself bask in my sadness or anger and acknowledge that it’s there for a little while. Afterwards, I try to be optimistic and tell myself how nothing is ruined, in a much calmer way than how I did before.

This is a very effective method of coping with that sort of stress. And for people who have not gotten into a situation with those close to them like I did, make sure not to say anything that you know may affect them. I know firsthand how tempting it can be, but do not give in. If you do not have anyone else you can trust, talk to a school counselor or consider therapy. Just do not, under any circumstances, make the mistake that I did

I truly hope that this was able to inspire you or help you in some way or another. And thank you for letting me share my feelings with you.

Head Over Heels

Fynne, 11, LA

Ugh stupid Ariana. Why do I have to get the groceries? Quote on quote from Ariana “I pay the rent you get the groceries.” At least she is giving me her money. IT IS SO HOT OUT!! I fan myself with my hand. Living in Tennessee sucks, it is the pits and will give you sweaty pits! I will be an aspiring actor someday but today is not that day. Tennessee is NOT near Hollywood, figuratively and literally. I step inside the air conditioned grocery store. Ahhh. The owner of the shop Luke comes up to me.

“Hey Daisy check out the back door,” he says and walks away. What a strange man. I’ll go see what he’s talking about, I think. I walk to the back door, nothing but a ! OMG!!!

Love Island 2.0. Looking for Love? Looking for fame? Looking for a beautiful paradise? You’ll get all that in Head Over Heels! Auditions Sunday afternoon March 5. 1325 Manhattan, New York.

Well I’ll be darned! Good ol’ Luke! He is the salt of the earth! Wait a minute, just how many people did he tell? I wonder then run over to him I accidentally run into him.

“That’s not quite the thank you I expected but it’s alright,” Luke laughs.

“Just how many people did you tell, bud?” I ask. He shrugs but still answers. “‘Bout 2 maybe 3 why?” Luke answers and chews on a toothpick.

I allow myself to do a quick victory dance and run in my car. I step on the gas and get home in 5 minutes. I dart inside my apartment room.

“Yo. Can I have a popsicle from Luke’s?” Ariana asks.

“Ok!” I say and dig through my bag remembering I forgot to buy the groceries. Sidetracked again! I think. “Well I kind of forgot to buy them…for a good reason! Lookie Lookie!” I tell her, grinning, and hand her the poster. Ariana reads it silently.

“Daisy, sister of mine, what are you trying to tell me?” she asks.

I put my hand on my waist. “Ariana, clueless sister of mine, what I’m trying to say is I’m packing my bags and trying out for the big show of love. This is my chance. I’m 23 years old, I need to get a job, I'll get a house, maybe even a mansion!” I tell Ariana.

“You can’t do that!” Ariana says madly.

“I’m 23 years old, I do what I want!!” I yell Ariana grins. “I meant not without me,” she says happily.

I groan but I know it can’t be helped.

“Ok fine,” I agree.

Two months later:

IT’S THE DAY!!!

I AM IN THE AIRPORT!!

ABOUT TO BE ON MY PLANE TO N.Y.C!!

EEE! So exciting!!

Ariana does her duck face for a selfie.

“Insta?” I ask.

“Yes! #Not Single And Ready To Mingle and #yass queen and #cheating on my boyfriend! But this time not with my diet!” Ariana squealed.

“What if Max sees that?!” I ask loudly.

“Good point I’ll put it on close friends,” Ariana says coolly.

A boy with dirty blonde hair sat next to Ariana to plug in his phone.

“OMG!! Hottie at 3 o'clock!” Ariana whispers to me.

He puts a cap over his head.

“Heavens to Betsy! Is that a writing is fun hat?” I ask him.

“I told you not to say Heavens to Betsy, you sound like a ninety year old!” Ariana informs me

“It’s quite alright and yes. My sister told me not to wear this, she said she wouldn't be caught dead with that hat,” he laughs.

“What is your name?” I ask him.

“I’m Jack! And what would your name be?” he asks me.

“Where’s your sister? I think we will get along,” Ariana asks, snapping her gum

“She’s mingling with the guy at Starbucks She wants a free frappuccino I told her we are going on a romance show, but she won’t listen!” Jack says grumpily.

“I want a free frappuccino too! Bye, I'll mingle with her!” Ariana smiles with her pearly white teeth chomping on berry gum.

“Hey, what do you get when you cross a cow with an octopus? A meeting with the ethics committee and the swift removal of your research funding!!”

Jack laughs

I laugh an ugly long laugh. Everybody turns to stare at me.

“Don’t worry guys, she's on no drugs that I know of…” Ariana yells from Starbucks.

“Hehe! Ari you are my true match!” Jack's sister Camila giggles. Ariana mimes throwing up at the idea.

“Ew like I have a boyfriend!” Ariana gags

“I didn't mean it like that! But who's your boyfriend sis? Spill!” Camila asks “Ok, it’s Jack!” Ariana admits.

“Jack? He was single 10 minutes ago in the taxi? Oh well, things change! Do or do not, there is no try. Says the greatest man on earth Ronald Reagan!”

Camila says proudly.

“Ronald Reagan didn’t say that, Harry Potter did! And he doesn't know he’s my boyfriend yet, but he will because I’m going to choose him when we choose our mate,” Ariana states.

“Ooh good plan! Don’t look now but hillbilly’s making a move on Jackie boy!” Camila whispers.

“Y’know I can hear you, right?” I ask them.

“Oh whatever Daisy! Can Jack hear us too?” Ariana asks flirtatiously

“You are dumb as a sack of hammers! Yes he can!! He’s literally right next to me!!” I said.

“Jeez. Jack is so much more forgiving, isn’t he Camila?” she asks back in her

“I’m sweet as honey” tone.

“Oh yes!” Camila agrees in the same tone.

“Oh my god Camila!! Stop agreeing with everything I say!! God!! He’s your brother, too!!!!” Ariana says, and mimes sticking her finger down her throat

“We are going to start boarding the plane service members, or whatever goes on,”a lazy gate attendant says, scrolling on her phone.

A few minutes later first class passengers are called. We get in.

When the plane lands in New York:

I get off the plane and stretch.

“So for the wedding at the end of season one I was thinking of a floral theme,” Ariana tells Jack

“There's going to be a wedding?! I’m not ready for this!!” Jack whimpers and turns to me for help.

“Jack, Ariana is fibbing. There is no wedding if you want no wedding,” I tell him.

He slinks his hand in mine, much to Ariana’s dismay.

“Whatever, there are hotter boys and you have a shirt on and probably don't surf I want a surfer boy who only ever wears shorts, flip flops, and sometimes a T-shirt!” Ariana says and storms off.

“The only thing I surf is the periodic table H2O!” Jack laughs.

I giggle. “During the summer Ariana forces me to surf with her! Once she made me surf in our pool!” I remember.

“Um ok.” Jack says, uninterested.

“I’m excited as a pig eating slop!” I say, biting my fingernails

“I am so neurotic. I’m shaking like a petiole, base and a blade of a leaf!!” Jack says.

Everyone steps inside the store in the airport where you try out.

Surprisingly there aren’t a lot of people.

“I love you Luke!!” I yell.

Everyone looks at me like “whaaa??”

“So you have a boyfriend?” Jack asks.

Ariana laughs. “Daisy? Nooo!! Who would date her?” Ariana asks, laughing really hard.

Jack frowns. “I’m sure many people would,” Jack smiles at me.

I pull Ariana aside.

“Why would he say that?” I sob.

“What do you mean? He likes you!” Ariana grumbles

“No, he doesn't!! If he did, he wouldn’t have said that many people would, he would have said he would date me!” I sniffle.

Ariana slaps herself in the face. “That’s what boys say when they like you!!” Ariana tells me.

“Why? That’s so oblivious!” I say madly.

“Because boys are idiots! Well most boys are.” Ariana tells me and hands me a tissue.

“Well don’t you like boys?” I ask

Her eyes open wide and she’s about to open her mouth but a big time director interrupts her.

“Shh!! Shh!! Gunner Langston talking!!” a man yells. He has a suit and oversized sunglasses.

Ariana flutters her eyelashes.

“The Gunner Langston??! Son of Archibald Langston??!!” Camila asks.

“The Rich and Famous.” He smiles then frowns. “Now get in line if you're here for Head Over Heels. I didn’t choose the name,” he says boringly.

“Do you know who this is? This is Gunner Langston!” I tell Jack.

“I got that. I don’t quite know how I feel about him,” Jack says thoughtfully.

I shake my head.

“He’s a bit too big for his britches. We went on a date in ‘05, ohh that was terrible!” Ariana says.

“You were five years old in ‘05!” I say.

“Well I meant, we went on a date a long time ago and he was totally egotistical.” Ariana says.

“I think he’s wonderful,” I swoon.

Jack frowns. “For once I agree with Ariana,” Jack groans.

“You dated Gunner Langston??!!” I yell, not realizing we are next in line

“Me, date him? Look at these abs? And I thought you were smart, women these days,” Gunner says, and starts to take his shirt off.

Then, a young woman with LouisVuitton sunglasses stops him.

“Babe, as much as I would love for you to take your shirt off, we are doing additions right now. Later boo, later,” the woman says.

“Who are you?!” I ask sassily.

“Someone with curves ” she smiles Oh god, I think.

“And attitude,” I mutter.

“Yeah. That’s supposed to be my thing!! Hey GIRL you ain’t taking MY spot!!” Ariana yells.

“It just so happens you’re first, but before we begin I must say a few words. The audition process is very short: a mere 15 minutes after everyone auditions we will have the cast. We are so grateful that you came here ugh who wrote this speech?! Trash. In my very own words, try your best, and if you don’t make it you suck at acting sorry,” she says.

“What’s your name, lady?” Ariana asks.

“Jessica Langston,” she answers, and takes an iced coffee from an assistant.

“L-L-Langston?!!” I am finally able to speak.

“Words fail you dearie, just call me rich, wealthy, well heeled, and prosperous,” Jessica tells me.

“I got this. I’m ready,” Ariana tells Jessica.

“K, get up here,” Jessica says.

“So basically you have to say your first and last name, your favorite hobby, your pet peeve, and why you want to be on the show. I think that’s it, I'm getting a drink bye,” Gunner says.

“Later babe, we have to do this you promised Penelope,”

Jessica says, and does a perfect puppy dog face

Gunners face instantly brightens and his voice is suddenly cherry.

“Penny, come here!!” he says sweetly.

I don’t know what everyone is thinking, well except for Ariana who makes it pretty obvious what she’s thinking.

“A second wife!!?? IS SHE A DIVA TOO? Man, I really should have married you when I had the chance,” Ariana says, but that’s Ariana

A two year old girl comes running into his arms.

She’s adorable.

“That’s true love.” I say.

“Ew Daisy she’s three and I’m pretty sure she’s his daughter,” Ariana says disgustedly.

“No, I know, it’s just really sweet,” I say.

Jessica and Gunner sit down, And Gunner has Penny on his lap.

“Buhginnn!!” Penny says.

It’s adorable.

“I’m Ariana Bailey, I like to shop but not at the mall.

The mall is for low quality poor people, my pet peeve is when people are positive and always on the go, and I want to be on the show to be rich and famous,” Ariana says.

“Ohh, she goood! I LIKE her,” Penny says to Gunner, which seems to brighten his day. She’s gonna make it.

“You can go now,” Jessica scoffs as if to say “she’s not gonna make it.”

Gunner smiles for the second time. “We’ll be sure to see you soon!” he says happily.

Jessica stares at him with a deadly look and Ariana smiles.

“Enough with the talking! NEXT!!!” Penny yells. Everyone laughs then I realize I’M NEXT!!!

I step up

“Uhh hi! Um, my name is Daisy Bailey. My hobby is studying, my pet peeve is when people don’t clean up after themselves, and I want to be on this show to achieve my dreams and find true love!” I say nervously.

“She had the samed last name as Eriana! HI I'M PENNY!”

Penny yells at me.

I do a victory dance but inside my head.

“Hi Penny! You are a very pretty girl,” I say “Um-hmm. NEXT! It was very nice to meet Daisy Bailey.” she says.

I walk over to the snack table feeling victorious because Gunner told me “I was amazing” and that he’ll be sure to call me!

I put a donut in my mouth. Ariana walks over to me looking disgusted. “Ew, you’re going to eat that?! I’m dieting for the show because I know I'm going to get it and well these days they shame you for everything. YOU are going to be the first to get canceled,” she says, and shakes her head.

“Canceled? Is that like how the Indians canceled the Americans?” I laugh.

“First of all, that makes no sense; second of all, you are just proving my point,” she says.

15 minutes later:

The cast is Ariana Bailey, Daisy Bailey, Jack Ate, Camila Ate, Kate Williams, Zoe Loe, James Anderson, Henry Hudson, William Davis, and Justin Jackson. Tonight there is a cast party at our mansion, come at 9!” Jessica says angrily.

“This isn’t real, this is NOT real!” I squeal.

“Um… hate to break it to you but this is real,” Ariana says.

Classic Ariana keeping her cool about everything.

I AM IN A TV SHOW!!

“Let’s get a drink!” Jack says happily. We drive to Romygosh’s Market for a drink.

“Omigod Lily Johnson works here! Can't wait to brag in her face!”

Ariana smiles slyly.

“Wait, we don’t even live here!” I say. She symbolizes everyone to be quiet.

“Hey Lily!” Ariana says fakely.

“Ariana Bailey! Great to see you!” Lily says and walks out of the bar counter with a leather black tank top that looks tight, a matching skirt, leather boots up to her knees, and a Gucci bag. The mall is for low quality poor people, my pet peeve is when people are positive and always on the go, and I want to be on the show to be rich and famous,” Ariana says “Ohh, she goood! I LIKE her,” Penny says to Gunner, which seems to brighten his day. She’s gonna make it.

“You can go now,” Jessica scoffs as if to say “she’s not gonna make it.”

Gunner smiles for the second time. “We’ll be sure to see you soon!” he says happily.

“Love the uniform! I never thought I’d see you working!” Ariana says.

“Well I’m not working, my dad owns the bar, and second, I’m just getting a drink because tomorrow I’m hosting this hip new TV show called “Head Over Heels!” she brags

“Very funny,” Ariana says.

“Why would that be funny? I was walking on the street heading to Dolce and Gabbana and then this muscular guy and wife that looks like she had way too much plastic surgery go over to me with their little kid Penny or whatever her name is then she looks me up and down and whispers in his ear and he’s like would you like to host a love TV show and I’m like I have a boyfriend then he like explains the show and I’m like this is my chance to be famous!” She says. We all smile at each other.

“How about we buy you a drink?” Jake asks.

She giggles.

“I have a boyfriend! But I’ll have a margarita with extra tajin!” Lily giggles and touches his shoulder.

For some reason that makes me mad. I mean he’s not mine but it just does.

“Can you get a room?” Ariana says disgustedly.

Jack actually smiles like he likes this woman.

“Ugh, this bar is disgusting, let's go to my placeee!!” Lily yells after 1 or 2 or 3 drinks

We get an Uber there because it is not safe to drive right now.

1 hour later, I’m in a mansion!!

Lily has this great house with a liquor cabinet I might add.

“DANG IT!” I yell.

“We were supposed to go to the cast party! UGH OMG! I get a job then I blow it off! Oh my god I’m gonna get fired!” I yell and slump into a coach, upset.

“Ohh that! I knew we were supposed to be going to something! Now I know. Anyway, it’s fine.” Ariana says.

I don’t drink, but Ariana does, so this next line may seem rude, but you can see my point of view

“I don’t know if that is the alcohol talking but it wouldn’t be the first time!” I growl.

Ariana’s mad but she’s probably too drunk to yell. Jeez that sounded nicer in my head.

“It’s fine. It was probably optional and if not we’ll just seem like divas. We can go to his house tomorrow and talk or whatever,” Ariana groans.

“When’s casting?” Jack asks.

“THEY PROBABLY SAID AT THE PARTY!” I yell.

“WE’RE GOING TO HIS HOUSE TOMORROW!!” Ariana yells, then clears her throat.

“Y’know what I’m leaving. And Ariana, you are coming with me because you have had 5 too many drinks tonight. We are going home and you will be very mad at yourself tomorrow!” I yell, call a taxi, and drag Ariana home.

THE NEXT MORNING:

RINGG!! My alarm goes off at five in the morning. I open my eyes and the entire cast is in front of me including Gunner and Jessica

“This must be a dream,” I say sleepily, and start to close my eyes.

“Sorry sweets, this is real, now get up before I carry you out of bed. WE HAVE TO GET ON THE PLANE TO THE VILLA!!” Jessica yells.

I trudge out of bed. “Ugh we still have to drive *yawn* to dee airport?” I ask, closing my door so I can change, but Jessica comes in while everyone else is (thankfully) outside.

“Honey, we have a private jet that is literally outside your apartment right now,” Jessica says.

I pull out a black sweatshirt with Taylor Swift’s tour destinations on it and start to put it on

“Oh and we fully restocked your closet in Hawaii, it's a walk in!” Jessica squeals. I change into my sweatshirt and my matching sweatpants knowing that if I have to take two items of clothing this would be it.

“UGH. Dang it Jessica. I still have to pack!” I groan.

“Did you hear me? We restocked everything to a higher quality and hotter quality.” Jessica reminds me.

I walk outside and head into YES a private jet.

(I see Ariana icing her head, groaning, and telling people to turn down the faint sound of music.)

Villa is such a bad name. It makes it sound small, but IT IS NOT small, not at all!

In fact, according to the dictionary this is the definition of villa: a large and luxurious country residence.

But this is beyond large; this is humungous! My room is the size of my apartment and the next combined!

I have a cosmetic room which is basically like a huge Sephora but has more products! Ariana steps in the room next to mine Sadly we have to share the cosmetic room.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but can you do my makeup?” Ariana asks.

“YES!” I yell.

“What, Daisy?” Ariana asks.

I see Fenty Beauty, Summer Friday, Rare Beauty, and Dae, but I can only do things that match her complexion.

I put some Milk Jelly Blush on her, Tower 28 spray, Charlotte Tilbury Hollywood Flawless Filter, some Gisou, Glossier, and tons more. I spray some Sol de Janeiro and when I’m done I say, “Look ”

“I look like a tramp,” Ariana growls, and starts to walk to her room.

“I think you look like a fairy,” I say. “Fairies don’t exist. Grow up,” she says.

Even Ariana can’t ruin my day today. Ahh, life is perfect.

We don’t get 10 minutes to relax because then I hear Lily’s booming voice. “Meet in front of the infinity pool! In 10 minutes meet in front! Boys and girls meet in front of the infinity pool!”

Well that's a sentence you don’t hear everyday.

Ugh. I feel so crusty in my sweatshirt and sweatpants from the plane. I have 10 minutes so I should freshen up.

I spray on some perfume, and change into a cute blue dress and white heels.

Ariana walks in with a smile.

“I’m going to forgive you dear sister,” Ariana says nicely Um. What?!

“Um, ok. Why?” I ask.

“Because I’m choosing Jack. I mean he’s obviously choosing me. I mean, we just talked about it, and he said he’s choosing me.” Ariana giggles.

“WHAT?!” I yell.

“Oh, you didn’t see. It was sooo romantic. I like him so much. And the guys are choosing so I know I have someone!” Ariana says happily.

“Heyyy party people! Meet at the pool! I repeat meet at the pool!” Lily says over the intercom.

I walk to the pool with Ariana.

“Omigosh! I’m so excited! Are you so excited? Because I am!!” Ariana asks as she twirls in her short skirt and matching top.

“Jazzed,” I grumble.

Ariana obviously isn’t getting the sarcasm because she responds with “ME TOO! OMGGG YAASS!”

I roll my eyes as we step toward the pool.

I turn around to talk to her.

“You are being rude and inconsiderate!” I yell as I step backward…and fall in the pool.

Ariana can’t help but laugh… and laugh… and laugh.

“UGH!! This is so embarrassing!” I yell.

A tall dirty blonde, blue eyed, six-packed guy walks over to me, giggling.

“Do you need some help? Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” he asks.

Ohh and British. An added bonus.

“No it’s fine, it's pretty hilarious. I would laugh too,” I say.

He helps me out.

“I’m Justin, and you are?” Justin asks.

“Daisy, my dad and mom are geeks for flowers.” I say, but I don’t know why I’m telling him.

“That’s beautiful. Justin because my mom likes singers.”

Justin replies.

I laugh

“Ok love birds break it up! It's time!” Lily sings.

Of course Jack chooses Ariana, Camila and James and other people and as expected I'm last.

BUT I’M WITH JUSTIN!!

The Story for Lonely People

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Ghost Reid

The color in my eyes was whisked away The chocolate brown faded to a wispy grey I always feel like a ghost You’re probably wondering, What do you mean? Like, for example, I still have friends and stuff. But you know how you see a girl walking behind a group of other kids that are all laughing and having fun? That was me. The one that would hear others talking about their plans, and then that one person who has some bit of kindness says, “Oh, you can come too if you want.”

I’m the one where, if someone says, “Oh, I was sitting there already,” you’ll genuinely get up and move because you feel guilty. I’m the kind of person where, if someone is mean to you, you won’t make a big deal out of it, but if you’re ever accidentally mean to someone, it would wreck your whole mood. The person that is more of a listener than a talker. The one that walked loops around the playground in elementary school so that the teachers would think you were doing something and wouldn’t ask if you were okay. The one that, after one thought, could zone out for an entire 2 hours just thinking about that catapulting idea that leads to others. The one that has to fake their personality. These were all me. But, the craziest thing is that no one ever notices I guess I am just that invisible And, by the time that I accept I am a ghost, I think about how I should just speak up more, how it shouldn’t be that hard. But, no matter how hard I try, it’s like I’m stuck at the bottom of a dark pit that everyone else thought was empty, and I’m just searching for an arm to reach in and dig me out.

One of my biggest wonders is what would it be like if other people were to step in my shoes? Sometimes I wish I could just get a taste of what being out of that dark, deep well was like. But they would never slip into that bottomless pit because they don’t know what it feels like to be pushed in.

The Story for Lonely People

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Regret Whitney

I live a great life, so great I think it might just be fake. I was friends with everyone; everyone tries to get a chance to talk to me, as if they had to book their own appointments. I played all the sports everyone else did. I was familiar with everyone, and they all knew me. But there was a pit that lays in the back of my head in the back for a reason. I push it there so I can forget about it, like it never happened. But, sometimes the thoughts inside the back of my head are like tortured lions clawing on the side of bars, gnawing down on the walls of the cage, ripping holes into the wall, pounding the ground for vengeance. Eventually, the walls come tearing down like a torrential downpour of bucketing rain, thundering out of furious clouds hanging up in the sky. The lions are charging out, the feeling of a teacher walking down the classroom with a whip whacking several times in their palm, ready to pounce. Their teeth clenched, their mouth full of hisses and bounding roars, their claws stretched out. A small girl with two braids on the side of her head in pink overalls and frilly socks with Mary Janes strapped onto her feet stares innocently up at the intimidating wild animals roaming the dirty forest path. One charges at her, but inside she is not what she seems. She's higher up on the food chain than the lion and turns into a great beast, a hybrid with long wings and the body of a tiger. Underneath all the lions is a small cat, harmless Nothing was what it seemed, and in fact it was quite the opposite I used to be best friends with Reid, and she was the confident one. I would do whatever she said, and we’d always do it together. But in the 4th grade, everything changed. I was different. People saw me differently too. It was like someone had taken a wand and cast it upon my head, changing my personality and the way I think. Like swapping me with someone else. I had power.

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Spark Reid

After 3rd grade, my life wasn’t the same. It was like I had been scarred for life to change myself in a way where I could never be flipped back. In 3rd grade I was talkative, I had a lot of friends, but 4th grade was different, and it changed my perspective on things. And it was all thanks to Whitney. The terrorist of my childhood. Everyone started liking Whitney, and she took advantage of it. She made me feel horrible everyday, and I was more miserable. She made me want to stay silent and not get involved in anything I did nothing wrong, and I can remember the day in 5th grade when we were on a call together and she told me how she would always pick on me because I would never react to it. She controlled me to have no emotion and not express how I felt, because it seemed as if it didn’t matter. The day she told me those words, it felt like I was floating on clouds, I was so joyful. I had been waiting to hear those words for a very long time, and as I explained to her how everyday was like for me it was as if something in the microwave just blew up, like it had been sitting there too long. The words poured out of me, and I don’t think I have ever felt better. But it didn’t change our relationship. She would still rather be popular than remember me. And thinking of it now, even though there’s no way I could truly forgive her, I still want to be friends with her. She made me feel sorry for things that weren’t my fault, and with her, she’d always win. She seemed like such a good friend, but what I seem to forget is how I would come home everyday wishing my rocking boat of melancholy would reach a dock and get out of the trenches of grief. The toughest thing I think of when I remember Whitney is that I never stopped wanting to be friends with her, she just stopped wanting to be friends with me I have always had to wear a mask over my face. Behind every time someone asked me if I was okay and I responded with “I’m fine” was someone who wanted to pour their feelings out onto a page, wanting someone to think they mattered for once, someone who would be picked out of 100 other people in a room. Every time I was smiling and suddenly my face went flat, it was because I was an overthinker. I thought about everything that had ever happened to me, and I take things personally. Every time someone stung me with words, it would always be something I would think back to. How I always was the one being mean, and the other person was the reasonable one. I was a pushover. I was so miserable that I was able to see myself lose my spark.

The Story for Lonely People

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Rules

Whitney

My life could have never been so different. Little kids are full of joy and laughter, and they don’t care about anything. You can only hear the sweet sound of giggles and play. We were safe and comfortable. We had a place to go to when we needed to hide, always having a person to talk to when we needed it. But after the third grade, we didn’t anymore. Secrets were kept, and rumors were made People think it’s important to have the people in a group that try their hardest to be kind and validate everyone, but others ponder the possibility of having a lunch table filled with snakes. This is where you find the popular girls.

Although being popular means being higher on the leaderboard, that does not mean it can’t be dangerous. I had a V.I.P. pass to speak freely, while others were held under ground rules. I had the power, and I could do and get away with whatever I wanted. I controlled them all. And this is where we tend to rest on our laurels. Gaining a toxic status rate only comes with a dramatic entrance, so when we’re cut out, it’s only right to make a dramatic exit.

The game of popularity is a gamble. You win some, you lose some. It’s really just based on luck. There’s no easy way to win this game. In fact, you can’t. It goes on forever. And we all know there’s only one way to guarantee a win in a perilous play of predators

To turn a plan into effortless execution, you must cheat. Survival is key You want as many escape routes as you can get, and by falling down the status chain, you are lessening the amount of open doors you have. Without any doors, you’re walking on eggshells. But, imagine there's a black hole under those egg shells. Crack one, and you’re never coming back. What we’re really trying to say is, majority rules. If you try to alter our etiquette, you can think of yourself set beneath our ground rules, below in the dungeons.

Dream Reid

I waited and I waited. Day by day, I would hover just outside of the popular clique at recess. I waited for the perfect moment for me to come in, for the chance where I could express and present myself to the group, to be noticed. I tried several times, but I was never listened to. The one thing that bothered me the most, though, was that I was heard. I couldn’t give up on popularity. It was my key to success in life, to happiness and fortune. Well, in the scheme of class. I never understood why anyone liked this concept anyway. It’s utterly toxic and fake. It’s just like a boss with minions, and their only wage being given social clout. You were forced into things you didn’t want to do, and it was all a play someone had made up.

School really is a waste of happiness, a whole fourth of your life. And, what I’m really trying to say is, if you’re not popular or you don’t live on your own planet, your future is in the pit of eternal drainage of life, right next to me!

This should give you a better understanding of my point on popularity. So, for exactly 152 days, I stood outside of that popular clique, till on the 153rd day, everything changed. The thing with these popular kids is that when they’re alone with you, they know exactly what you want to hear and how to get you on their side. Luckily, I was aware of this information before I finally got my chance. All the girls had gotten caught up in some fight, except for just a few of them who weren’t involved I agreed to everything they said, I said their name, I even gave them compliments And, little did I know, popularity had a life span. And Sarah Chilton’s was about to end.

Now, there was an open spot at the popular lunch table everyday. As I walk toward the table, I look around. Sarah is sitting alone at an empty table, all by herself. Ha! Now she knows what it feels like to be ME! Someone finally can understand. As I approach the table, I smile a bright, big, real smile. Not a bit of it is fake. This is real.

But as I approach the table, the queen and all the princesses don’t take one glance over at me, not except for their royal guard, who looks up at me all sweet and innocent and says, “This seat is taken. Sorry.”

She turns back to the castle she is privileged to be in and admires it

My eyes open. I was asleep the whole time? Well, at least none of my ‘friends’ would have seen me being rejected. I should’ve known better than to believe a castle to balance underneath a layer of sand.

The Story for Lonely People Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Remember? Whitney

I shudder when I think of Reid. A man overboard, forgotten deep in the sea. Abandoned. And who was the captain? Me. With my crew members, my lowerclassmen. And Reid, who was thrown in with the sharks, my pawns. If only she didn’t care so much about being kind. I would, but who was I to give up my spot? To give up my position behind the wheel? I often contemplate whether I stay behind the wheel because I’m afraid to fall into the pit of doom, or if I’m too full of pride and gluttony to realise what’s more important.

I see Reid. She sits at her table alone, looking at something I can’t spot. Technically she isn’t really alone, but in social terms, she is. All her friends run and chase each other around their lunch table laughing and bickering like kids should, while Reid is stopped in time. Everyone is moving around her, and it’s like she lives in this alternate reality, when really she just can’t live on her own. It’s not big enough for her to expand out of the white lies and shortcuts everyone takes, while she plows through a mountain of snow. She has bigger feelings that take up a large amount of capacity. Something her ‘friends’ could never handle.

I see myself in Reid in many ways. We both need each other, because we both know what a true friendship is like. Some things are best to end the way they started, because we make our gut intentions out of what we really desire in the beginning. Those things are interchangeable, and we will always want them, whether they treat us satisfactorily by letting us acquire them or not Even if we find a new supplement, they’ll never tempt us the way our first want had us dazed We will always remember them.

The Story for Lonely People

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Joke Reid

All I ever wanted was a friend. It was never the popularity. I mean sure, of course that was a huge bonus, but when you have a real friend, you don’t need the reassurance of being liked; you already are. I wanted someone who could see when I plastered on a smile for show, a friend who was patient enough to listen to me, a friend who made me feel seen and understood. One that would bother to put effort into the relationship. I have tons of ‘friends,’ but none of them actually try to hold up the fort. I’m never the one invited to places. I’ve always had to invite my friends over to my house, and I think they only ever accept because they pity me for being so alone. They don’t know what it’s like to see all of them together without me.

It’s like when I’m walking in the stairwell with them. It can only fit 5 people in a row, leaving me tagging behind, tripping over their feet, trying to gain their sight. Why aren’t I worthy of being friends with them? I’m interested in the same things, I’m friendly, and I never try to fight any of them, rather than restoring their feelings. I’m scum next to them, and the best they can do is take their hand and tisk me away I’ll give you a quick simulation. It’s as if time has stopped, but only for me. Everyone else is whispering, giggling, and running around the lunch table. I’m not quite staring anywhere, just into a place where I can be alone. My own secret garden. I zone out any excess noise I find to disturb my thoughts, and I roll thoughts over other thoughts, like the way a wheel can spin around up and down a hill, or the way certain words just glide off the tip of your tongue.

I could stay there forever, or at least until someone notices that I look like an alien that just got shipped from Mars It’s gotten so bad to the point where I’ve had the janitor at lunch have to ask my friends if I talked. Of course he meant it as a joke. That's all people have ever said to me. Jokes. But jokes are supposed to be funny and make you laugh, not make you feel pressured and confused. Now that’s what I would call a dose of loneliness, and a chance of utter awkwardness.

The Story for Lonely People Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Happiness Whitney

Happiness isn’t something we can take, or something we can buy. Not even something you can earn. Many people think we're chosen whether we can have that sweet joy or not, but really, it’s whether you can grasp it tight, and believe in its innocence. I wish people knew that. I wish I could realize that. Sure, I’m living any girl’s dream, but happiness is a special thing that comes from within. It requires trust. And under the guidelines of being popular, it isn’t required to gain trust. Only to form a bond so thick, you can snap when it breaks. The lies will always catch up.

In an alternate world where popularity wasn’t a factor in happiness, where we could all act the same way things were in elementary school, I still would have chosen her. She would be my number one. I twisted her words and blamed her for everything, and I didn’t realise it. I couldn’t tell how much I hurt her. How much one dent and a couple scratches could scar. How deep the cut would go. When she chose to be truthful with me, the words she said would never leave me. You changed me. I couldn’t believe I had that much of an impact on someone. An impact that was negative, and bad. I didn’t want to be who I was. But there’s no way out. We can either dig out happiness in our fake lives we're trapped in, or we can find true belief and access the prosperity we desire outside of the lunch table we choose to sit at.

I give myself a good talk in the mirror every morning that I have the power, the capability to find this happiness. But if I find it, will I lose that power? Or will power not matter once I have found an equal to me?

I wash my face with clean water, and I leave the bathroom a new person, on a new day, with a chance.

I go to school, and I sit with my ‘friends’ on the bus. I listen to their words, and let them pour out of my own mouth, leaving my throat itchy and dirty. I gulp down a swig of water. I don’t speak their words again. I speak only the truth.

The Story for Lonely People

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

Where Now?

Reid

Like in any life cycle, it has to come to an end eventually. But how does one manage to get out of it? Sometimes, you can’t. You're too tired of being the nice friend, the one that puts in all the effort. There’s never been anything in it for you And this is what leads me to the two paths one can follow The path of despair and the path of anger

In the path of despair, you can’t stand trying so hard and always being wrong, so you simply give up trying. You go silent. If you choose the path of anger, you let all those locked up emotions catch up to you and let them run through the brick wall. Dominate every friendship you were trying to hold together, and gain total embarrassment. Both leave you alone in the end. And although many people suffer from the same conflicts, we’re too distant to recognize each other. Too far away from a decision we should have made a long time ago.

A person can only last so long when it comes to a force too heavy for them to carry. We all know we’ll end up there someday, but decide that it’s better to live strangled than to find yourself alone. Anyone would rather suffer in silence than suffer alone Right?

But it’s not always the right choice. All these feelings and memories, they race up and hurtle around the obstacles we give them, till they soar up to our throats, clogging up the space to breathe. The only way to feel alive again is to let them out. They overflow and form an abundance of soldiers.

You can run away from them, but in the end, the stronger one will always win, the majority will always rule, and our sadness will always beat us. It’s. Too. Hard. So where do these things really lead to? It’s different for everyone. Sometimes, all we can do is let the running water drip till our eyes dry, and the leaks down our cheeks leave stains. We can sit in the dark with white noise bleeding through our ears till the last thing we hear before we can fall asleep at night is a tornado of echoing sound flowing through our racing minds. Or we can be upfront with ourselves and the people we know, and face the truth. The last battle cry. To lose it all, or to embrace a plethora of satisfaction to relieve our tensed shoulders from pain. To let go. Breathe. Live again.

The Story for Lonely People

Skylar, 11, Westchester and Fairfield Counties

The Epilogue

She stood upon the grand stage, her face lighting up the whole room just by her smile. She was glowing from the inside out, and she beamed energy. She cast a beam of light onto the crowd, leaning over their seats as they listened intently to her sweet voice She grabbed the microphone tight and didn’t let go, sure of her power “Reid, where did your career for songwriting begin?” spoke the announcer. Reid didn’t hesitate and opened her mouth the minute the question had rung out in the air. She had been waiting for this moment her whole life, and these were the words that would put her mind at satisfaction. These words have been trapped inside of her for a long time, and they’d been buried underneath her lungs, isolated behind strong metal bars of solitude. A little girl stood behind those bars, and that girl was inside of Reid, it was who she was. Missing for years, the little girl grew older each year and her childhood, her joy had slipped away. There was no noise behind the bars, no inhale of breath. So when Reid got to speak, got her turn, she spoke more lively than she had ever been before. Words flew, bells were rung, people cheered, and at last, finally, her eyes were bright, a deep brown glow cast upon them once again “The fourth grade.”

My Mask - My Face Anita, 11, NYC

Chapter 1: My Mask

The air turned black all around me. Icy fingers gripped my hand in the darkness. A shrill cry echoed throughout the black void. I turned around, alarmed, and saw a black figure with red eyes. Pulling away, I tried to run around the oxidized wall in front of me, but soon I realized the wall elapsed on forever. Suddenly, I felt a sudden urge to bang my head on the wall. That urge to run into the wall, bang my head, and yell in anger was encompassing inside me

Don’t do it!!! My body yelled at me. The invisible force pushed me forward. What was this force, and why did it want me to die? That’s what I thought at first, but when I fell onto a stone-hard floor of a completely new room in a completely new area, I knew. That force wasn’t to kill me. It was to bring me into the deep darkness of the backrooms.

Let me tell you how I got here. You should know that my actual name is Ajax. First of all, I don’t have friends. I don’t know how to make any, either way. Second, it’s like I always wear a mask not like I'm a creep wearing a real mask in real life. It’s like an invisible mask, like I’m trying to hide myself from the world. I am just one of those quiet people, not doing anything, following the rules.

I want to be a swordsman when I grow up I don’t think watching anime for 5 hours straight every day would make that happen. I’m a dumb kid. Someone who collects Pokémon. Someone who watches anime. Someone with no friends. I hate myself. But this story? Well, after this happened to me, it changed all my ways of thinking.

So, I was walking, minding my own business, when the Whirly kids came up to me.

“Hey, bro. Ready to get beat?” One of the guys with a bunch of tattoos said. The second guy, with a frown on his face, punched me straight in the face. I was blinded by anger. But I was even amazed myself because I was able to kick all the other guys except for the first Whirley guy. How did I have that kind of strength?

“Wanna get beat?” I replied. But then, in a moment, I froze. My heart was beating so fast in anger, relief, and tiredness, and then I blacked out That’s how I found myself in this place A place that I thought was fake The backrooms How was this even real?

WRITER BIOS

Nuri Agueros (p. 12)

"Nuri is a 9-year-old girl who loves dogs, writing, and art. She lives in New York City and one of her favorite things to do is play basketball.”

Phoebe Cantor (p. 13)

"Phoebe is a 8-year-old writer who loves cats. She has two cats and their names are Freya and Oden. Phoebe's favorite color is pink. She loves to write fantasy stories."

Zachary Cho (p. 16)

"Zachary Cho is a writer based in New York. Zachary enjoys math, writing, and rowing in his free time, along with many other things."

Yungbihn Douglas (p. 6)

"Yungbihn has been participating in Writopia for several years. He enjoys writing poetry and short fiction and has an interest in mathematics. He runs on the cross-country and track team for Santa Monica High School (Samohi) and competes on the Samohi Mathletes team."

Skylar Gajwani (p. 46)

Anita Gao (p.47)

Anita is a writer, artist , and athlete living in Scarsdale, NY with her sister parents, and dog. She is currently in 5th grade at Heathcote School and will attend Rye Country Day School starting in 6th grade.

WRITER BIOS

Delaney Griffin (p. 7)

"Delaney is a 13-year-old writer from Thousand Oaks, CA, who enjoys poetry as well as listening to alternative and country music. During this time, Delaney isn't working on a secure project but rather is trying out writing different poems about nature, feelings, and/or abstract ideas."

Janavi Kumaravel (p. 30)

Charlotte Natow (p. 5)

"Charlotte is from New York, New York and likes writing pieces of any length. She is currently working on a short novel and many other shorter stories. While she usually enjoys writing fantasy, she also likes to write other forms of literature."

Fynne Shane (p. 40)

Eleonora Sirabella (p. 24)

"Eleonora Sirabella has just turned eleven. She has just finished her piece "On This Farm" and has started many others, such as the "Mystery of the Jacklyns" and other fictional novels. In her free time she likes to do theater and write!"

Anabelle Swidler (p. 8)

"Anabelle Swidler was born in New York and moved to LA right before Covid hit. She loves writing, drawing, painting, and sewing."

Lacy Vetter (p. 9)

"Lacy Vetter is an 11-year-old writer based in Florida and New York. She is the author of various realistic fiction and fantasy stories. She also speaks 4 languages, and spends a lot of of time reading books that are not her own. When she's not writing, you can find her playing with her younger sister. "