It’s been that kind of day, where the alarm blares way too early, the food you saved is gone now, eaten by people who you love so much that you end up hating them, the car is freezing, warming up just as you arrive, you take notes in every class, you trip over your own feet in the halls, and it hurts enough that it hurts but you have no excuse to slack, the bell rings and you haven’t zipped your backpack, you slide into a bus seat behind screaming children and before kicking ones, a muddy seat, you hop off the bus and fall in the snow twice, after all day you still have homework, and then you bike down, down to the river, and you stand there watching the moon and stars in the winter sky and know you shouldn’t, because you’ll have to bike home, uphill, you’ll go to bed late and the alarm will go off way too early again, but it’s worth it for the few moments of calm peace when you can forget it all, the whole 23 hours and 55 minutes of misery just so you can stand there and watch for 5.

When I think back on it, my memory of that day is still there, clearly planted in my brain. I’ve tried to get rid of it but it always sticks, like the maple syrup that makes it’s way onto your chair when your family eats pancakes for dinner, the way mine used to all the time. When I really think about it, though, I realize that it wasn’t that day that it all started. It was the day before, and it was all because of Rosalie Blanchard.

 

Rosalie was one of those girls at school that always gave me a death stare when I walked by. For a while I never knew exactly why she did it, but over time I decided she was jealous of me. She should be, after all, I kept telling myself. I have everything. Ambition is something I have never lacked, and back then I had tons of it. My friends and I were going to be models in the near future, and everyone knew it. Money has never been an issue, and we usually spent our weekends shopping at the mall to find the clothes we had seen in the pages of a fashion magazine.

Rosalie’s glasses were too big for her miniature face and were always sliding down her nose. She pushed them back up so often that after sitting close to her in math class for half a year I was ready to grab the duct tape and permanently attach them to her face. She would slide them up and I would breathe a sigh of relief, hoping they would stay when clunk, they would fall straight off her face and onto her desk. Again and again and again.

It was the same way on that memorable day, the day before the day that I remember. Again and again her glasses fell, disrupting the entire class. It wasn’t that I really cared about my math grades (I don’t think models need to know math),  but it was obnoxious. After about fifteen minutes of class, my friend Erin slid me a note. “OMG, this is so crazy. Wish I could just glue those glasses to her face!” I laughed and grabbed my pen to write a response. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side.

“Serafina, I’ll take that note in your hand.” Mrs. Wales was an unforgiving teacher, and one that I particularly despised in that moment.

“Mrs. Wales, it’s nothing. I mean, it’s not a note. It’s just… well, it’s a....a letter! To my uncle. I really need it to stay a secret because there’s some personal family stuff in it.” I rambled on and on, and Erin gave me a look. I quickly stopped talking and turned red.

“A nice try, Serafina. Pass it up, please.” I reluctantly handed her the note, which she immediately unfolded and read aloud.

Rosalie’s face turned bright red and her glasses slid down her nose and onto her desk with a hollow thunk. I felt bad, but also a prick of something else that I later realized was satisfaction. Rosalie had gotten what she deserved for bothering us, and it wasn’t my problem nobody else was brave enough to tell her how annoying she was. Still, seeing her face made my stomach feel hollow.

After class, Erin disappeared without an apology, so I decided not to give one either. Rosalie had other ideas, however. She marched up to me in the doorway, blocking my exit.

“You know what?” she said defiantly, looking me in the eyes, her own eyes red and puffy. “You and Erin and all of your fashion model friends may be pretty and stylish, but that’s all anyone can say about because there isn’t anything inside you. You’re empty, all of you.” She took a deep breath. “Some of us don’t have money like you. Some of us can’t afford nicer glasses. You live in your little bubble where you’re some kind of princess or something, and everything’s bright and colorful and happy. Well, guess what?! The world isn’t like that! It’s all an illusion, everything you have, all those bright, happy colors, so I suggest you leave me alone. Your world will be a whole lot brighter if you treat people like they deserve to be treated.”

I couldn’t believe she had talked to me that way. If she only knew how hard it was to be me. To have the family that I have. In case you were wondering about my family, my father is… he’s gone. He died, about 5 years ago. He was sick, and they couldn’t make him better. When he died, I locked myself in my room for weeks, barely eating, slowly fading away. My mother, on the other hand, couldn’t accept his death. The warm, kind woman I had never known life without had hardened her facial features into a mask and never took it off. At first, it wasn’t a physical mask. She was looking for someone to blame for his death, and her face never changed from it’s hardened expression. First it was the doctors. They couldn’t fix him. She stormed into their office, shouting and screaming but never crying. That was the thing that scared me the most. She never cried. Not when he died, not when the doctors made her leave, and not when she turned her stone cold gaze on me, and I knew that she was never going to be the same. And she wasn’t.

She blames me for his death. I’m not sure why, but I know she does. I knew it even before she broke into my room and took all of the money I had saved up for college, because my father had said to save it for something special. She spent that stolen money on makeup, of all things. She always wore it, so much I could barely recognise her anymore. It’s been that way for years. She’s never smiled at me, or told me that she loves me. Her emotions are hidden behind her mask.

Rosalie stormed off, and I stood there in the doorway, my eyes filled with tears.

“She’s right, you know.” I hadn’t realized Mrs. Wales was still in the room. “You leave that girl alone.”

 

The next morning I was still thinking about Rosalie’s words. They echoed in my head the way sound ricocheted around the beach caves my parents used to take me to when I was little. When my family was happy.

I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice, at first, what had happened. It took me a minute, as I sat there in my bedroom, to realize something was wrong. Then, slowly, I saw it. Or actually, I didn’t. I couldn’t see colors.

I screamed. I hadn’t meant to. I hadn’t even heard myself scream. But I did, my mother told me, and in a tone that said that she didn’t appreciate having her beauty sleep interrupted.

“The colors! The colors! I can’t see them! I can’t see them!”

“Serafina, that’s such a story. Haven’t I told you not to tell stories?” my mother said, exasperated. Her long nightgown had once been pale blue, but now it was gray. So was her dyed yellow hair.

I hadn’t realized how important color was until I couldn’t see it. My mother looked different without it, like all the layers of artificial beauty had been peeled away, leaving behind a hint at the woman I remember. The woman that used to care about me.

 

The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with me. My mother acted like that was my fault, like I was lying. I think she knows I’m telling the truth, though, because otherwise she wouldn’t have taken me in the first place. She wouldn’t want to waste money that could be used for her own beautification.

 

I was sent back to school later that day, after the doctor turned me away. Everything looked different now that color was gone. My friends, who had once stood out among the crowd, now looked so similar to everyone else that I barely recognised them. I spent the day in a daze, looking at everything as though I had never seen it before. It wasn’t until the end of the day that something clicked in my mind. Something someone had said. I knew who I had to talk to.

 

I found Rosalie in the library with her nose buried in a book. The idea to see her hadn’t worried me, but once I had actually gotten there I had started to have second thoughts. I was slowly backing away when she whirled around to face me.

“What do you want?” Her expression was stone cold, and reminded me of my mother. In fact, when I blinked, I saw my mother standing there, in her place.

“I….I...um…” I blinked, and she was Rosalie again.

“I told you yesterday to LEAVE ME ALONE!”

She was furious, and I didn’t blame her one bit. She deserved to be mad. I ducked my head. Rosalie seemed to notice that I wasn’t there to hurt her, and her stone cold expression softened just the slightest bit.

“Actually, I came to ask you something.”

“Really? ‘Cause I don’t do homework help. Sorry.”

“It’s not that. I wanted to ask…What did you mean about illusions the other day?”

“It was just something to say to make you leave me alone.”

“Was it? Because this morning when I woke up, I couldn’t see colors anymore. Explain that.”

Rosalie’s eyes widened.

“Remarkable,” she said, staring at me. “I don’t believe it.”

“What? WHAT?!”

“You have lost the illusion of color. You must have. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Color is an illusion?”

“No, of course not. But you… As I said before, you live in a bubble. Or did, at least. But when I told you about it, I guess the bubble burst. The colors you thought you could see were just an illusion built by that bubble. Now that it’s gone, you can’t see them.”

 

Nothing Rosalie had said made sense, but it was more logical than what the doctor had suggested, which was that I was delusional.

“Can I get them back?”

She took a moment to ponder this, then said “Maybe. Some people (your friends, for instance), only see color as an illusion. I, on the other hand, was trained to see the real colors. I could do it since I was very small.”

I decided not to say that she still was very small.

“So… how do I do it?”

 

A week later, I was sitting on the school roof, which is off-limits to students. I can’t see why, though, because it has a 4-foot wall all the way around it. I think it was made so students could eat lunch up here or something, but the rumor is that the teachers thought “Our school is so high up that all with all these suicidal teenagers, we’ll have a huge death toll on our hands.” Or something like that.

The thing is, though, the roof was really pretty. Well, not the roof itself, since nobody’s been up her since the janitors the last summer, but there was a really great view. Rosalie told me to meet her up there, so I could get the colors back.

After a few minutes of staring at the grey city below me, I heard the clatter of the big metal door to the roof. Rosalie climbed through the door and sat next to me.

“Hi, Serafina.” It was weird to hear a girl who used to hate me say me name without even a hint of distaste in her voice.

“Hi.”

“Are you ready to see color again?” She smiled, and pointed up. “Tell me, what colors can you see in the sky?”

“Grey.”

“I’ll tell you what I see. I see pink, orange, yellow, purple...and so many more.”

She stared out at the sunset, seemingly lost in thought. The dull gray glow of the sun setting deeper into the sky made Rosalie’s eyes sparkle dully.

“So… how can I see the colors, too?”

She jumped a bit, as if she had forgotten I was there.

“Right, right. So. Like I said before, you can’t see colors because your illusion of the world  disappeared, so now you can see without, shall we say, a protective bubble filtering out what you want to see and don’t want to see. You can’t regain those colors because they were never there to begin with. You have to find the real colors.”

A thought occurred to me.

“Why are you doing this? You hated me just last week.”

Rosalie smiled. “I have my reasons.”

“So you do still hate me! I should have known this was a load of crap. All that illusions stuff… I can’t believe I bought into it.”

“That’s not it at all! You’re right, I’ve always disliked you… But I’ve also never had a friend before. I figured if I helped you…”

I smiled, and for a second I could see the colors in the sunset before they faded back to grey.

 

Rosalie and I have been best friends for a year now. My old friends never quite understood why I abandoned them the way I did, but Rosalie was right- they’re all empty. I have the colors back now, too. They’re even brighter than before.

I said I would never forget the day they disappeared, which is true. But what’s more important is the day I got them back.

 

I sat in the car with my mother, on the way to the pool. She wasn’t swimming, of course. But I was meeting Rosalie, and in a surprise turn of events, she had agreed to drive me. We sat in silence a while, until she pulled up at the pool. As I climbed out of the car, she said,

“I just wanted to let you know, Serafina… I’m not mad at you.” I stared at her in shock, one leg out the door.

“ I was just mad, I guess, for all these years. Your father was a good man who never deserved to die. I took out my anger for his death on you.” She paused. “I’ve been seeing a therapist, and he helped me understand that. I’m so, so sorry, Serafina. For everything.”

I guess I was smiling when I got out of the pool locker room, because Rosalie grinned at me.

“I’ve never seen you quite so happy. What happened?” When I told her, she hugged me.

“Oh Serafina, I’m so glad for you!” She looked out towards rippling blueness of the pool.” You know, that pool isn’t going to swim in itself.”

As I plunged into the icy water with my best friend, the world finally felt right. As I fell, the grey grew brighter and brighter, until I couldn’t see it at all.

Just Another Zombie

By: Andrew Hawley

That night, Raphael was found eating a sandwich at midnight. There was a noise coming from outside the cabin, he failed to notice. Then it became louder. And louder. And louder. He began to notice. Then it stopped. He continued eating his BLT as if nothing had happened. And nothing did happen. He ate happily and then went back to sleep.

It was the next night. Up as usual at midnight. This time, it was a PB and J. His personal favorite. Then he heard the noise again, but louder than the previous night. And there was moaning. Loud moaning. There was a scratching too. Like nails clawing to… break in. He checked out the first window. Nothing. The second window. Nothing. The third. Nothing. Then a shattering of glass made the hairs on the back of Raphael’s neck stand up. But the windows were fine in his cabin. After all, it was only one room, and he would know if his  windows were broken.

Then the screaming started. He could see others sprinting. He saw the broken window in the cabin next to him. He could see a green figure lurching toward Raphael’s screaming friend. Henry. He jumped into action, sneaking up behind the zombie about to make a feast out of Henry, and stuffing the half eaten PB and J down it’s throat. Raphael loved his Peanut butter sticky. Which was a good thing, because the zombie was now busy trying to brush his yellow teeth with his hand.

They started sprinting side-by-side into the woods, as a group of zombies formed behind them, sprinting like their hunger was unbearable and couldn’t be taken as a joke any longer. Unfortunately for the campers, there was a group up ahead as well. Henry screamed ”Into the woods!!!” which was the best option available. Sprinting up a hill, they were able to catch a break. The zombies lost interest and started chasing other campers. Catching their breath, they trudged on wordlessly. Past bare trees and bushes. They found a good climbing tree and decided to risk it. After all, zombies weren’t good at climbing, right? Occasionally, they saw some groups trudge by, oblivious to the rather enticing meal above them.

Then there was Jack, a good friend of theirs, getting chased by the biggest train of zombies yet. “Jack!!! Climb faster than you ever have before!!!” They screamed at the same time. Scrambling up to the same level of branches that  Raffaele and Henry were on, Jack started wobbling side to side from the sheer effort of climbing a 50 foot tree in less than a minute “Thanks guys.” he huffed. “I was a goner.” “Don’t mention it.” said Raphael.

The one big group of zombies decided that 3 campers were enough to be a good meal and started pooling at the bottom of the tree. The huge group attracted more and more zombies. Then they started to get desperate. One tried for the first branch. His arm fell off. He tried again, giving the others the courage to attempt the climb as well. Eventually they made progress. Scary progress. The more time passed, the farther they got. Until they were 5 feet below them. The campers made a decision. They started prepping themselves for the dangerous leap to another tree branch.

They didn’t make it. To the branch that they intended to land on, anyway. Raphael got a hold on a branch just below the intended one. The others did the same. The zombies now started to try figuring out how to get to the new tree. They jumped as well, with not as much luck. The zombies hung from the bare branches like ornaments, making it look like it was christmas time in the north pole. The campers made their way down the tree in the hopes that they could sprint away fast enough so that the zombies couldn’t catch up.

It worked. The zombies started deliberately falling off the tree to pursue the three. They did not stop to rest. Running deeper into the woods, the campers saw the zombies regrouping. And more adding on to the train, which was terrible luck, considering that they had another zombie in front of them. Except it wasn’t a zombie. It was a scientist. “That guy has to have had better days.” Raphael said under his breath. The scientist beckoned them forward as the train grew. “Come inside!!! Quickly!!!” He said. They followed him into a cave.

Which turned out to be a lot more comfortable and civil than just a regular old cave. It was a laboratory. A small one at that, but nevertheless a laboratory. The equipment looked high-tech to Raphael considering that he was not the best in modern day technology. And then he saw it. The train closing in. Blocking all exit. The scientist started pressing buttons and pulling levers on a control board. Then a mechanical voice came from the speaker on the control board,”Access Granted. Closing Doors.” And the zombies slowly went out of sight, as the door sealed them inside the dark and damp cave.

The scientist offered them no explanation as he busied himself on taking notes on a human in a tank. His skin tone was slightly different. A little bit more… green. ”Ummmm… doctor?” Jack said “ What is happening?” He ignored Jack. So they stood in silence. Until he spoke. “You are all going to die.” Naturally, their jaws all fell open. “Just kidding.” They exchanged nervous glances. “Unless you screw this up. Then you’re all dead.” They got ready for the “Just kidding”. It didn’t come. The scientist proceeded to continue with explanation of what they were undoubtedly going to screw up.

It was a genius plan. One that would make them heroes, and stories of glory and fortune were sure to follow (best case scenario). Or they would all be made into a delicious buffet (worst case scenario). They sprang into action. Looping cords through cords and working together to help build the weapon. Finally, they were ready. They ran out of the cave that meant certain safety and into the open which meant almost certain death.

They sprinted all with earpieces because if something went wrong, they could make up a plan on the fly. They saw a few stragglers, but none gave them any trouble. The scientist spoke the dreadful words,”You’re almost there.” and the group groaned. They didn’t want to be close to their destination. But they needed to. Unless they wanted the human race to go extinct.

The campers snuck through a bush, about to undertake an incredible feat. It was like rush hour in chicago. Wherever you looked, a sea of green was blocking their view of the dirt on the ground. And they weren’t trees. Raphael’s palms started sweating. There was a cold wind, and the temperature didn’t explain why he was sweating. They prepped the weapon, about to unleash the powers of science upon the freaks of nature. The others started shifting uncomfortably, and Raphael wasn’t doing much better to control the fear rising into his throat.

Part of them wanted to go screaming back to the cave. But they had to stay. “I think i’m going to be sick.” Henry whispered. The color of his puke and matched the zombies skin color. His face did, too. As they shook and slowly got out their projectiles, they prepared themselves to hurl the quick “Arts and crafts” project.”Three…Two…One...0.5…” Raphael said, ashamed of himself for dragging it out.”Go.”

Then, Raphael snapped awake from his nightmare. To a faint...moaning and... scratching on his door.

 

 

Have you ever noticed that when people die, it’s not on their list of things to do that day? However, now I can relate to them. My name is Benjamin, I’m 16 years old, and this is my story.

 

“Hey Tyler, wait up!” I shouted on a cool autumn day, running to catch up with my best friend. I live in Kindred, the capital city of Heron, in the year 2032. It’s usually peaceful and uneventful, though sometimes we do hear bad news, such as what we were about to find out today.

As I took my seat in Social Studies, my teacher, Ms. Raleigh, called for the class' attention.

“Okay everyone, settle down,” she chided, “I have some news.” At this, the class fell silent, fearing it would be related to our current war with Parrish, a powerful country that often clashed with Heron. Sadly, we were correct.

Ms. Raleigh continued, “This morning, Heron bombed Parrish, taking 176 lives. The president of Parrish has sworn revenge on our country, threatening to destroy our homes with a NAT bomb, similar to the A-BOMB.” She sighed, a grim look on her face, before going on. “The state will sound alarms if there is any threat of an attack. If you hear air raid sirens, take cover immediately.”

I shared a look with my girlfriend Lauren, her face crinkled with worry lines. What would happen to us? Would we be ripped apart as so many had been before us?

At this, we ended the discussion, and turned our attention to our lesson. Even so, not one person in the class smiled for the rest of the day.

 

As I trudged home, I couldn’t seem to get the war out of my mind, until I saw my little sister Abigail running up to me.

“Benny!” she exclaimed, jumping into my arms. “The most amazing thing happened on my TV show today!”

“Really? Tell me about it.” I said as we walked inside. My mom was standing by the counter, washing the dishes, when we walked in. As she heard us coming, she turned around, smiling but with worry in her eyes.

“Hey Ben, how was your day?” she asked. She said it casually, but with a clear message in her eyes: Don’t talk about it here, not now. Abigail didn’t need to know about the latest development in our war, she was too young.

“Great.” I answered meeting her eyes. “Though I do have a bunch a homework.” This comment resulted in her ordering me to my room, and I gladly obliged, as I needed time to think.

 

Once I reached my bedroom, I settled onto my bed, pondering the day's events. Why does the world have to go to war? Did God create it? Does He approve? But perhaps most important of all, what will happen to me and my family? We could try to flee, but where would we go? All of our family lives in Kindred, and…

No, I thought, shaking my head. If I was destined to die, I could accept it. But I could not accept that fate for my family. Would life be as merciless as to give little Abigail over to the grip of death? And the same for the rest of my family? And what about Lauren and Tyler? With these dark thoughts still churning in my mind, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

I awoke to the sound of a car horn honking. Dad’s home, I thought blearily before dragging myself out of bed. I quickly checked myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, so I quickly smoothed it down before walking downstairs. The kitchen door opened as I crossed the landing, and I saw my father hug Abby, laughing, though it sounded forced, before giving my mom a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi Benjamin!” he said. “Guess what I did today?” he paused for barely a second before continuing. As he launched into his story, I started to zone out and drift away. Once again I found my thoughts drifting back to the war, until a loud noise wrenched me from my dream land.

Eeeoooeeeooo eeeoooeeeooo a loud sound from outside startled me, leaving my ears ringing.The air raid sirens were ringing. God help us I prayed as I jumped up. My parents froze, then flew into action.

“What’s that, Mommy?” Abigail asked. “Is there a tornado coming?”

“No, sweetie.” she replied with evident strain in her voice. “Everyone go to the basement. Now.” We all scrambled to the basement door, tripping over one another in our haste. “Come on Benja-”

BOOM! The loud noise shook the earth. The house began to collapse on us, trapping my family inside the basement.

“Ben!” I heard my mom scream. I tried to answer her, but sawdust choked me, filling my lungs and throat.  My heart breaking, I stumbled backward, tripping and feeling dizzy. I wondered if this is how the people of Pompeii felt, trapped and helpless, not knowing what was happening. I rushed out into the street, just as the house caved in.

Mom, Dad, Abigail… I thought, my mind searching for an explanation. Is this how it would end? Surely this could not be happening, it must be a figment of my imagination. The boom would be explainable, as would the sirens. At least these were my hopes, before I saw the debris and fire. This was no normal bomb. A ring of fire seemed to spread from the center of Kindred, starting on the brink of the horizon and traveling faster and faster. The fire rose higher than the eye could see, swallowing everything in its path. I heard broken screaming all around me, making my eardrums throb. I shoved my fingers in my ears to try to muffle it but it didn’t make a difference. Only later would I notice it was coming from me.

The fire was coming closer, the heat singeing the hair on my arms. Chunks of debris from houses, cars, and more flew around me as the winds picked up. Yet I held my ground, bracing myself against the gusts.

As I watched the roaring flames coming towards me, I found the perplexing idea of one’s life flashing before their eyes. My mind drifted away, and the world faded into nothingness.

 

Suddenly, it was my fifth birthday. My buck teeth protruded from my face, and I had a mischievous smile that unnerved the substitute teachers. My class had just finished singing happy birthday to me, and I was about to take a bite out of a cookie, when the kid next to me started crying. His name was Tyler, and he was allergic to the cookies.

“Stop crying.” I said crossly. “It’s annoying.” But my heart gradually softened, and I began to pity him, and asked him if he wanted to come to my house after school. He dried his tears and weakly smiled, saying he would have to check with his mom…

 

“We’re home!” my mother called as my father opened up the door to the house, holding a baby carrier in his arms.

“Yay!” I shouted. “Look Grandma, the baby came!”

“Yes, I see that.” she replied, chuckling. “What name did you give her Jessica?” she asked mom.

“We named her Abigail. It means, father’s joy.” Grandma liked it, but I personally thought that the meaning didn’t matter.

After Mom got settled back in (Grandma had said Mom was tired), I walked over to the baby and peeked in the carrier. She’s ugly, was my first thought. But then she smiled and made baby sounds, causing me to laugh. I asked Dad if I could hold her…

 

I watched her from across the classroom. I was in 7th grade, and my true love, or so I thought then, was in my class. Her name was Lauren, and she wasn’t exactly popular, but not unpopular either. She loved to make people laugh, through making jokes about herself or certain topics, but never about other people. She didn’t gossip, and was gentle and kind, making her beautiful in her own spectacular way. I didn’t date her until the 10th grade, as middle school relationships never last longer than a few months, but all through the years I dreamed about it.

“Hey Ben,” she called running to catch up with me after class.

“Yeah?” I responded, my heart thumping inside my chest.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said. Was it my imagination or was she blushing? “I wanted to know whether or not you were going to try out for the school musical or not.” She paused, before continuing, “I’ve heard you sing before and you sound amazing.” She likes my voice? Really? “I’m part of the musical committee, and we were wondering whether or not you would try out.”

“Um, sure, okay.” I responded sheepishly.

“Great, auditions are on Friday.” she said, shoving a flyer in my hand. “See you around!”

She dashed away and was soon lost in the crowd…

 

My mind came to as if it were surfacing from a pool. The fire was almost upon me now, but I determinedly stood tall, feeling the heat stripping my mind away like layers on an onion. Hope gave me strength as the fire got closer, threatening to take my life, and then it swallowed me whole.

 

A bright light almost blinding, surrounded me,  I was floating, weightless, in a sea of emptiness. My loved ones surrounded me. Mom, Dad, Abigail, Lauren, Tyler, all whispering encouraging words, giving me strength. The bright light came closer and closer. I could no longer see. A safe feeling filled my body, tingling and warm. Angels were singing a heavenly chorus, and then everything around me shattered.

 

 

 I.

It was the first time I had visited Lieutenant General Vivian’s grave since she had been shot to death by a Government army soldier, not including when I went to her funeral. The sun had started to set, casting an extraordinary prism of yellow and orange tones across the sky, which was painted with numerous golden clouds. A truly idyllic scene, to say it succinctly.

 

Her headstone laid under a large cherry blossom tree— one that bloomed in late June and lost its flowers in the wake of September. Along with the tree’s blooms, many different types of flowers adorned her resting place. Many soldiers left camellias, for her last name had been Camellia. Others left roses, larkspurs, poppies— Hell, there were so many flowers that I could never count all the different kinds. The individual army we were in, known as the Six Hundred, consisted of many people who thought we were like a gigantic family, and because of that, we all gave her blossoms so she knew how much we loved her.

 

They were all heartbroken when they heard the news; not because she was a significant member of our military— being our lead strategist and tactician, but because she was no older than fourteen years old. Vivian had managed to convince her parents to let her join the Rebellion military, and she immediately applied to be a strategist. Her parents told me that she had been known as a local child genius, with a high IQ and a bright mind. Shockingly, she actually got the highest score on the Tactics exam, and I had no choice but to allow her to be a high rank as a result.

 

Instantly, I formed a bond with her. I had lost my own child due to my ex-fiancee having struggles that ended in a stillbirth, and I longed for the desire to have a daughter. The ecstasy of being able to live vicariously through her was possibly one of the best feelings I had ever known. I adored her— watching her every little action with curiosity and interest. From the way she talked, smiled… even just the little subconscious actions she performed when she was writing or planning. It had gotten to the point where I would accidentally refer to her as “my daughter” when conversing with others, which resulted in me covering my face in a feeling of discomfiture.

 

However, every part of our connection was crushed in mere seconds, on a day where the sky was overcast and the ground was cold. That day, where she went on the battlefield and was shot to death by a high-ranking General from the Government military. I remember holding her limp body, soothing her and trying to mitigate her agony as calmly as possible. She had been shot directly above the heart, and I knew there was nothing I could do to save her. Her last words were stifled, but they flowed out of her mouth as if she had planned to tell me this for a long time. She had said to me:

 

“Evans, you’ve done so much for me; I had to return the favor. Thank you for being such a great leader. No matter what happens, you’ll always be in my thoughts… Let’s see each other again soon, okay?”

 

I nodded to her, barely able to choke out the word “okay” through my tears. When she heard me, she closed her eyes and died with a smile on her face.

Standing up, I decided to stop lamenting the past— for I would just become sullen and wistful thinking about her now-evanescent presence. Setting the carnations that I had left for her next to her stone, I turned and headed back to the military base, where my soldiers awaited me.

 

II.

 

I had lost count of how many times I had visited Vivian’s grave since her funeral. It had to have been at least two hundred. I tried to visit her grave daily whenever I was close enough. This time, I was filled with joy. With tears welling up in my eyes, I spoke to her; I knew she was listening.

 

“Vivian! Dear Vivian, we won the war! The Government military surrendered, and now we finally took power!” I fell onto the grass, digging my hands into the ground in front of her headstone, staring at the silent stone that was before me. I continued to smile, reading over her epitaph a few times before I eventually calmed down from excitement. I leaned back, my hands holding me up as I sprawled out on the ground. I took off my military jacket, setting it on the ground next to me and tilting my head to the side.

 

“Why did you leave such a negative thing on your epitaph, Vivian?” I read it again, paying careful attention to it once more.

 

VIVIANA ROSEANNA CAMELLIA
DECEMBER 24 - AUGUST 21

 

THE EVIL TRUTH IS ALWAYS BEHIND YOU

TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK

 

Why she asked for that on her headstone had always befuddled me. Perhaps, someone did something to her and she left behind a warning to others. Maybe she wanted to play a little joke and confuse everyone who read her stone. Either way, it was certainly an aberration from her usual demeanor, and I always felt strange after reading it. I knew so much about her, but this was the one thing I didn’t think I would ever comprehend.

 

I gave a small smile, shaking my head. “You really are an interesting girl, you know that? Did you want people to remember you in such a negative way?” I went silent for a moment, almost waiting for a response that I knew I would not receive and would not receive for quite a long time.

 

I stared at her headstone, thinking about the words and how they made my mind spiral into confusion. I read them over and over again, eventually giving up as I noticed the moon had risen high into the sky, and the mosquitoes were dining off my blood with perfunctory ease. I leaned forwards, wiping off some of the dirt on her resting marker with an aching arm, before putting on my jacket and buttoning it up. I waved farewell to her, smiling and telling her that I enjoyed her company.

 

As I headed down the hill, I saw a glimpse of her beautiful, glowing face for just a short moment.

 

III.

 

This time, I was not happy when I visited Vivian’s grave. I was choking on my own saliva, feeling as though I was about to vomit. I was sickened.

 

It had been about eight months since I had last been at her grave. In that time, I didn’t expect much to happen… and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

I had lost my quixotic view on life. My mind became ill -- telling me that my lust for peace could be achieved by ending it all— and I gave in. I woke up on the floor of my kitchen, curious as to what had happened.

 

Eventually, I remembered that I tried to overdose on medication. I barely escaped the maw of death.

 

I didn’t know whether I was happy about it or not at first. I ached to be with Vivian again. I wanted to see her beautiful face, and be able to embrace her fragile body in my arms. Over time, I became grateful that I didn’t die that night. It was a miracle, considering I lived alone in the middle of nowhere. Despite this, my mental health got worse. My mind was still sick, always telling me that I could try to kill myself again and be with my imitation daughter.

 

After a period of time, I couldn’t take it anymore. I got in my car and drove to Vivian’s gravesite as quickly as I could. I ran up the hill, before my legs felt like they both broke as I collapsed in front of her headstone, which had started to grow foliage on it. My tears spotted the base of the monument, as I wept to her and spoke of my sorrows.

 

“Vivian… Please, come back to me. I want to see you again… I’m so scared— I can’t go a day without thinking about how much better it would be if I killed myself just to see you, but I don’t want to die yet. Help me; help me find a cure for this. It’s all I ask for, please.”

 

I waited for a response, listening for anything. The trees rustling, the night birds cooing— any noise at all would be enough.

 

Yet, I heard nothing. I heard silence. Looking up, through my clouded veil of tears, I read her epitaph again.

 

THE EVIL TRUTH IS ALWAYS BEHIND YOU

TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK

 

“...Is this what you meant, Vivian? That the truth finally got to me? That I have to suffer on this planet until death takes me away with one fell swoop?”

 

The agony of silence continued to occupy the surrounding area. I waited a few more moments, before dropping my head again.

“Will you be there for me?” I whispered, as though I didn’t want anyone else to hear.

 

A wind blew, rustling the tree. I continued to keep my eyes on the ground, swallowing thickly. A few short moments later, a lone cherry blossom fell onto the base of her headstone, right between where my hands had been. I smiled. “Thank you,” I murmured, my tears of sadness mixing with new tears of comfort.

 

I slept next to her headstone that night.

 

IV.

 

It was December 25th when I saw something that warmed my heart at Vivian’s grave. I trudged through the snow, my boots crunching as I made my way up the hill. When I reached the top, I stopped in my tracks and stared at her stone, before smiling and slowly heading over to it.

 

Her stone had been decorated with flowers. Some of them were real, but many were spurious in design. Wrapped around the stone with thin, brown vines were magenta clematis flowers. Below, there were a few baskets and pots of flowers. Though there weren't as many, I recognized many of the flowers from her funeral immediately. The camellias were numerous, with an entire basket being filled with them. There was a vase of white roses nearby, though they had started to droop. Small petunias and poppies laid among some zinnias and carnations. The comfort of the flowers made the reminder of her death seem less macabre.

 

I reached out and touched one of the clematis flowers, its cold, fragile petals shivering under my warm fingers. I looked down at her grave, noticing the knit blanket that was wrapped around the base of her headstone. Moving my gaze, I saw a piece of thick paper sticking out between the stone and the blanket. I bent down, pulling it out slowly and reading it.

 

Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, and Have A Wonderful New Year, Viviana!

 

-- Takao and Levitica Zenruth

 

My small smile turned into a grin of warmth. I had been aware of the fact that Takao and Levitica, two high ranking commissioned soldiers, had gotten married shortly after the war ended. However, I wasn’t aware of the fact that they visited Vivian’s grave and left her flowers. The idea of people still visiting her and keeping her company made me so happy, to the point where I could feel my eyes clouding up with tears.

 

Then, I started to cry. Smiling and choking out a strangled chuckle, I crossed my arms and stood up straight, my gaze slowly moving back and forth between the different foliage sitting around her headstone. After a few minutes of staring silently, I spoke to the beloved child who was resting before me.

 

“I’m really glad that other people take care of you when I’m not around,” I murmured, sniffling a bit.

 

I listened to her response-- the wind blowing softly. She was attending.

 

“It makes me feel like others haven’t forgotten you, since you left us about three and a half years ago. I haven’t seen much of anyone else visiting; not even General M’envoler… or your own parents,” my voice got a bit quieter when I said the last part, as if I didn’t want to be mistaken and anger her.

 

The wind instantly blew louder, my scarf flying up out of my coat. I frowned a bit, worried that I made her mad. I stepped back from her headstone, seeing if anything would happen.

 

However, the breeze died down after a few short moments, eventually blowing gently and calmly. She was agreeing with me; she was sad.

 

I reached out, pressing my hand against her stone and smiling. “Don’t worry… As long as I’m here, it’ll be okay.”

 

The wind went silent.

 

“Dad’s here for you.”

 

V.

 

It had been nine years since Vivian died. In that time, a lot had happened. I tried to kill myself, I reunited with my third lover, I adopted a boy as my own. Fate had kept me busy for the last three of those nine years.

 

Trudging up that familiar hill, I swallowed thickly as the summer cicadas cried, making their presence known. Perhaps they were telling Vivian that I had finally returned.

 

I got to the top of the hill, seeing her headstone. The clematis vines that Takao and Levitica planted all those years ago had overtaken it, covering it in spectacular beauty. I slowly moved towards her, stopping in front of her.

 

“I’m sorry it took so long,” I mumbled, rubbing my hands shamefully. “Are you angry?”

 

The wind -- the one that I knew all too well, blew quietly. “No,” she was saying.

 

I smiled. “Thanks,” I stated. I set my eyes on her epitaph, reading it for the first time in many years. Instantly, I remembered those strange words.

 

THE EVIL TRUTH IS ALWAYS BEHIND YOU

TO STAB YOU IN THE BACK

 

I bit my lip, thinking for a moment. “I wish you would tell me what that meant… You’ve got no idea how many hours I’ve laid in bed -- just thinking about that phrase.”

 

She said nothing, but the cicadas continued to scream. Almost on cue, one flew over, landing on her grave and resting on it.

 

Frowning, I reached forwards to swat it away. It wriggled away from my hand, running to the backside of her headstone. I followed it, walking around her stone to get it off.

 

I reached out, brushing it away. It flew off, revealing something that I had never seen before.

AND I GAVE MY LIFE TO SAVE YOU FROM IT.

 

 

My eyes shot wide with realization. My knees buckled, giving away as I collapsed to the ground and started to sob. I finally knew why she was on the battlefield that day.

 

 

 She sacrificed her own life to save me from the evil truth’s blade.

Lucas screamed out of joy as he swam in ocean with his dad. They were on a family vacation in Indonesia; they knew nothing so beautiful. The sun was setting, and the winter was surprisingly gorgeous. They had been there three days and were already calling it home.

    On their walk back to the cottage, they talked to the pleasant Indonesian people and the tourists, a grin on all of their faces. Tom embraced his nearly golden wife, Ann. “And hello to you, small fries,” Tom said in a voice meant only for his one-year-old twins.

    The family of five were all doing their own activities when they heard shrieking. The family looked up simultaneously and saw trees being knocked to the ground and buildings being crushed to the ground in front of them. The wave coming closer to them was easily over thirty feet tall. It was swollen and vicious, wreaking havoc on everything in sight. The boys were together in the sand; their mother was in the kitchen, watching them while they watched the wave. A look of terror appeared across her face, she knew she was powerless in this moment.

The Hit

 

 

 

I shuddered, pulling my coat around me. My music drowned out the sounds of the city. I reached out to the traffic button with a shaky hand, as my mom had beat me a bit before, I’m used to it though. As the light turned red, I started onto the street, my teeth chattering loudly. I quickly spun my head around when I heard laughter and a speeding car. The car hit my side with an unimaginable force. I screamed, falling to my knees. All I could hear was sirens…..

 

I woke up, blinking, trying to get used to the bright white room.

“Oh! He’s alive!” I heard my mother say. I saw tears rolling down her eyes, but I heard a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Mom, I need to tell you something.” I wheezed, using one of my last breaths.

“What is it?” For the first time, she was interested in me.

“I..I hate you.”

I felt a tear splash on my face.

“What?” She gasped, a bit confused

 

But my eyes had closed and my heart rate stopped. She dipped her head on my chest, “I’m sorry.”

 

 

I take a deep breath and let the crisp cool air tickle my skin. I take my hands off of the bridge's railing and turn to face everyone. They all give me a toothy grin. I rotate my head around back to the shining blue water. Shadows dance across the rippling water. My eyes wander over to the rocks. “So are you in?” someone calls out.I can feel goosebumps creeping up my skin. “Yeah will you jump off or not?” the leader Sam questions me. My head spins to the sound. Sam raises his eyebrow awaiting my answer. I shut my eyes hoping that when I open them I’ll wake up from this nightmare. I want to impress them and be intrepid but…. “I don’t know I mean is it hazardous or-” Sam cuts me of “Let's go” he yells while shaking his head and turning on his heel. They all walk across the bridge. I can feel my opportunity slipping through my hands  "Don't think about it just jump" I whisper trying to talk myself into jumping. Before I can change my mind I yell after them "I'm in".

I smelled fresh baked lemon cake from downstairs that Mom baked. I don’t know exactly how lemon is my favorite fruit and flavor, it’s just that it has a unique taste to it, so somehow it became my favorite. I sighed while I finally finished a short story that I was working on in my notebook, put it in my huge secret pocket, and got up. The smell of lemon cake grew little by little each step that I took down, until the whole area smelled like lemons.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom called out to me. “Happy birthday!” She gave me a hug and continued to cook.

I looked around, and lemon juice and peels were splattered all over the table. I silently questioned her exactly how many lemons she used, and she replied, “Enough to make you gasp at how good it is. Don’t worry, I didn’t put much sugar in it. You know, I really want you to be able to speak again.”

I do too, I replied. I went and set the table, making it as neat as possible. Mom then came in with the cake, decorated with lemons. No wonder she used so many lemons. On the cake were thirteen lit candles, almost at the edge of the cake. I’ve always like my candles like that.

“Okay, make a wish,” she told me.

I closed my eyes to make a wish, but nothing came to mind. I actually didn’t know what to with for, so I guess I want to be able to talk again. This was one of my wishes that I wished for every year. Opening my eyes, I blew all the candles out.

The cake was delicious. I guess that this is Mom’s best recipe of all time. When I finished, I told her I was going to go for a walk.

“Okay, but don’t go too far,” she replied. “Oh, and take this.” It was a pen. It had a very unique color. It was crimson red, with a trailing pattern of gold added on it. There was also a rosy-red feather on the top.

Thanks, I replied, and took off.

I walked through the woods, gazing around the area. I then saw a cave nearby. Curious, I walked quickly to the cave. It seemed as if it were a thousand years old. It had a purple hue to it, and as I went on in, there was a huge hole in it. I looked down, but it didn’t seem to have an end to it. I was about to retreat before anything bad happens, but then my foot slipped, and I went tumbling down.

 

*  *  *

 

“Child, are you hurt?” I opened my eyes, seeing a glowing green figure hover above me. Remembering about what had happened, I got up. Well, I tried to get up, but I seemed to weak, so I lay back down.

Where am I? I wondered.

“Oh, so you are one of them…” she replied softly. She had greenish hair and very pretty eyes. She seemed really gentle. “I don’t understand your language, but I will try my best. I am Willow. You must be wondering where you are, right? Well, it’s exactly what it seems like. The underground.”

Seeing my startled look, she quickly said, “Oh no, not the place where all the bad people go after they die. This is exactly like the upperground, but it’s underground. So you have nothing to fear.”

She seemed really nice. She led me to her home, which was small and cozy. It had the smell of lemons, so it made me feel very at home. I asked her how to get back to the upperground, and she took a bit time to decipher it.

“What do you-” she started, and then realized what I was asking for. “No… no!” She held her head with her hands. “I can’t… I can’t bear to lose another one!” She then grabbed my arms, out of control. Her grasp was strong, but too strong to bear. I got knocked to the ground, while green flames scattered all around me, trapping me. Just then, she snapped into focus.

“Oh no,” she whispered, and all the fire disappeared. “Oh no… I’m so sorry, child. I just can’t control myself.” She gazed into the distance. “The exit to this place is over there,” she said as she pointed to a staircase leading downstairs, and looked into my eyes. “And please, please be careful. The rest of the underground is very dangerous.”

She hugged me, as she shed a single tear. She then walked away. I suddenly felt guilty and sorry for her. It was me who asked her in the first place. But this is not a time to think what I should’ve done better. Filled with determination, I went down the stairs. It was very dark down there, and it was a very long walk. But finally, I found the exit.

 

*  *  *  

 

I found myself in a very strange place. Everything was dark, with torches lit everywhere. Since there was no moon in the underground, without the torches, nobody’ll be able to see anything. Suddenly, I saw a glowing blue figure, but soon, it disappeared. I blinked, and it seemed as if nothing was there in the first place. I kept on going, creeped out on what was happening.

There was a sudden movement behind me. I turned around, and it was an orange figure instead. “Hello!” he said. “I’m Arlo. Hmm… it seems that my brother has been playing tricks on you, is that correct?” He had a wide smile and wore an orange t-shirt that said “ARLO”. His eyes glowed a bright orange color, and I could tell he was very happy to see someone else who wasn’t from this place.

“Hey, don’t blame me on everything!” The blue figure just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He was wearing a light blue jacket, which seemed like it was very old. His blue eyes glowed even more than his brother, which was pretty cool. “And ‘sup, kid. The name’s Jax.”

What is this place? I asked. To my surprise and delight, he actually understood.

“This is the Void Forest,” Jax answered. “It’s not actually a void, it just looks like one.” He eyes me curiously. “You are from the upperground, are you not?”

I nod my head yes.

“Then you should probably go to the king’s place. You must be desperate to get back,” he said, and sighed. “It’s the only way out.”

Why do you look so depressed?

“You’ll find out soon, kiddo.”

There was a moment of silence. Arlo looked at us nervously, his eyes dimming with uncertainty. He said, “Well… let’s get started, shall we?”

“Arlo and I will accompany you to the castle,” said Jax. “We can’t risk you getting hurt.”

It felt weird to have “bodyguards”, but comforting in a way. It was nice having people from the underground actually care about me. After walking for about an hour or so, we reached a passageway that leads to a desert-like place. I was really tired then, and after taking a few wobbly steps, I collapsed completely. I felt like I was going to pass out, but Arlo and Jax went to help support me just in time.

“Thank goodness I can teleport from here to the castle,” Jax murmured. “Here, hold my hand.”

I swear I haven’t even blinked my eyes, and yet I’m at the castle front door. The brothers opened the golden doors, and in we went. I was surprised that there wasn’t much decoration in it, just a huge garden of golden flowers. There was a throne chair on top of the flowers, and sitting in it was a yellow figure, which I guessed was the king. He was watering his flowers, humming a tune. The air here was very fresh, and I took a deep breath in. Unlike the upperground, the underground isn’t polluted as much.

“Your majesty,” the brothers said at the same time, and kneeled down. The king turned around, and the first thing he saw was me. He had golden and gentle eyes, wore a cape that went down to his feet, and he strangely made me think of Willow. He gasped, eyes full of surprise.

“Your majesty, please let me explain,” said Jax. “This child is-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” the king replied. “I foresaw this all coming. You don’t need to explain.” He looked down, and said, “You can go now.”

Giving me one last look, the brothers left the room. The king sighed and gave me a sad look.

“Greetings,” he started. “I am Donovan. Now you want to get home, right? Well, in order to do that, you have to…” He looked up sadly, and said, “Defeat me and take my soul.”

Wait, what? I exclaimed in my head.

“Meet me in the next room,” he said, and then disappeared.

I quickly followed him, horrified about what I have to do. Then, he stopped. Ahead of us was a beam of bright light.

“This is the exit,” Donovan said. He looked down. “Farewell.”

Just then, a person suddenly shouted, “Stop!” and threw Donovan to the other side of the room. I looked up, and to my surprise, it was Willow. She seemed really tired, probably because she ran all the way here.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, my child,” she said. “We can resolve this peacefully, okay?” She then shot a dirty look at Donovan.

“Willy…”

“Do not Willy me, Donovan!”

“Hey guys, stop fighting!” The brothers then ran in the room.

“We were worried about what would happen, so we rushed back immediately,” said Arlo.

“Glad you’re alright, kiddo,” said Jax.

“Are these the friends that you have made, my child?” Willow asked.

“Wow, the queen has also returned!” exclaimed Arlo.

Wait, so-

“Yep, they are husband and wife,” replied Jax.

“So, we should all head back then,” Willow started before darkness swallowed them all up.

 

*  *  *  

 

“Did you really think that you can get away that fast?” An echoing voice rang out in the darkness. “Because you’re wrong!”

A blinding light-green light shone, filling up the empty darkness. In front of me was a light-green figure, with eyes piercing and soft at the same time.

“Howdy! It’s me,” he said. “Winov, Prince of the Underground!”

At the same time, I started glowing. Then I remembered. I took out the pen that my mom gave me, and it was glowing with all its might. I realized what I was to do. I raised the pen high up in the air, and streams of light shot out of it. Winov dodged everything, and it was obvious that I needed something stronger to defeat him. He hit me with all his might, but there was this feeling in my soul that won’t let me give up. That is the power of determination.

I took out my notebook, and the pen wrote some mystical words. Suddenly, lightning shot out from everywhere, even faster than real lightning, and it illuminated the darkness almost entirely. That seemed to do the trick. He dodged some of them, but there was a few that actually hit him.

“No,” he yelled. “I can’t give up now!”

Greenish fire appeared from above me, shooting down altogether. The fire burned like no fire could ever burn, but somehow, I was still alive. With all my strength left, I gave him one last final blow.

 

*  *  *

 

“I’m so sorry,” Winov sobbed.

It’s okay, I replied.

“No, it’s not! I am a horrible person. I almost killed my parents, and, and…”

Then I hugged him. He seemed surprised, but then relaxed. He was very warm and the hug was very comforting, even to me.

“Ha, thanks,” he said while wiping his tears away. “I’m sorry to say, but your mother is dying. Time here passes differently than time passes on the upperground, and she’s been waiting so long that she got a heart attack. I want you to go and exit before it’s too late.”

But how?

“Take my soul. I promise that I will be alright. Plus… I don’t think I’m ready to encounter mother and father.”

Are you sure?

“Yes.”

 

*  *  *  

 

When I opened my eyes, everyone was with me. Willow, Arlo, Jax, and Donovan were all there, and then I remembered.

Mom! I exclaimed. We have to go see her!

“No need,” said Jax. “She’s right here.”

Mom had her eyes shut, but she had a smile on her face. She was still breathing, but it was getting shorter and shorter each breath.

Mom? Mom!

“Mom!” I finally shouted. She then opened her eyes a little. “Mom? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, my sunshine,” she said while putting a hand on my face. “I can hear you loud and clear.” She then closed her eyes, and fell back down. Her hands unclenched, and in her hand was a mini lemon cake.

“Thank you, Mom,” I whispered. Determined, I took the cake and held my pen tightly while standing up. Extremely sad things will occur, but it’s best to accept the present and move on to the future.

I looked up. We were a quarter of the way to the top. My eyes wandered right to the top of the mountain. It was red and then it was orange. “This is going to be a long way up,” I thought. I picked myself up and walked over to where my family was waiting for me. My brother's first words were “Took you long enough.” My parents gave him a look while I gave him a look of scorn. My brother was always mean to me. I was going into 4th grade. It was our summer in Utah. Every year we went somewhere. We had woken up at 5:30 in the morning to go hiking. Today we were going to Zyon National Park.

 

We started to climb again. This time I didn't ask to stop for water or take a break. I would not let my siblings have another reason to make fun of me for something I couldn't control. I mean I had only just turned 9. So I sucked it up and just started observing. We were going to climb high. I could feel the July sun beating on my skin. I looked across to my siblings. They were doing fine. We turned left then curved right. We continued walking until we saw a park bench and all sat down. I took a swig of water. It tasted like the best thing in the world, it’s like hot chocolate on a cold day, or that feeling when you think your favorite sports team is going to lose and then at the last second they win. That’s what it felt like to me. As the July sun continued to beat on my skin, my mind jumped back to reality. After walking a little further, my mom told us to stop. I looked at the ground while catching my breath. I put my hands on my head and let my lungs get filled with air.

  

 Right in front of me was a stone staircase. After that, there was a little more walking and then a big rock cut off from the canyon. It looked like it needed to be sat on. I could just feel the hot red rock on my skin. Refreshing and yet slightly painful, like a hot tub. I breathed deeply and smelled all the nature, the pine needles,rock dust and even the grass all the way down. 13,000ft down.  “like the woods back home,” I thought. I turned to my mother who looked hurt. “Are you okay, mommy?” She looked at me and answered, “I feel light headed”. “Does that mean sick, is she ok?” I thought. My concern must have shown on my face as I walked over to her, for when I got to her she assured me that she was ok and not to worry. Although she was fine she told me that she would not be able to keep going. My sister Mairead gave me a look, which indicated I should stay with my mom. Unfortunately, I was giving her the same look. We stared each other down. Finally, she surrendered, “I’ll stay with you, mommy”.

 

With two fewer people, the hike went a little more efficiently. Soon we got to the red rock and I sat down feeling the refreshing warmth.

 My dad sat down followed by my sister and brother. We all took some water. My siblings and I started to get up brushing off some rock powder. It felt soft like flour but a bit more grainy like rice. We waited for my dad but he wasn't getting up.

“Are you coming, papa?” I questioned.

“I don’t know if I will be able to walk far on that ledge” he responded, pointing behind me. I turned around. To the left, was a canyon wall with a chain on it. The only reason the chain was there was because to the right, there was the drop that would surely lead to my death.

 

Ahead of me, the ledge stood. Only 2 feet wide for walking on. I looked at the chain and knew that single chain might save my life. I thought that that chain would be the one hope I would have left before ending my life. My sister Keeley and brother Taylor’s face looked full excitement. No way had I come this far to back down. I put a smile on my face and walked forward leaving the others in my dust.

I got to the ledge before the others. I backed off the ledge to let my eldest sister Keeley take the lead. Before my older brother, Taylor could follow her,  I got on the ledge. As Keeley started walking, I followed. You know how in the movies they always say “don’t look down” and then the people always do? While that day, I guess I was just like those characters in a movie. I gulped. That must of been higher than 14,000ft. my eldest sister Keeley was flying through it like a gazelle. She would just step without looking. At that point, the only thing we had in common was that we were both holding onto the chain. I didn't even dare look back at Taylor's progress. As Keeley turned the corner. I had to make the turn. “I will not fall” kept running through my head over and over again. I moved my body and made the near impossible turn. As I turned Keeley screeched out “you made it.” I smiled to myself but on my face plastered a look that was meant to say “no big deal” I stepped off the ledge and looked around the curve, at the big opening. There were lots of jagged rocks. Yet every rock was a different color. On the ground a lizard sprinted around the curve. A split second later my brother came into view. He smiled and gave me a high five. I twirled around proud. What could my siblings say now!