Ms. Johnson walked down a wide corridor and stopped in front of a door with only the word Principal on it. She took a deep breath and walked into the small, dainty room.

“Hello, Ms. Johnson was it?”

“Yes, Mr. Anderson,” replied Ms. Johnson. She quickly sat down on an uncomfortable red plastic seat.

“Well, I’ve called you here today because of your son. Ever since that little incident…”  The principal suddenly paused on the word incident.   “Ever since that little incident four years ago, he’s become an almost different person.” The principal started to tap his fingers. Little beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. “He was always smart and well liked, but now, well. He’s been acting very strange for a long time now. In all of his classes he’s been seen muttering to himself and constructing a device that looks otherworldly!”

Ms. Johnson suddenly stood up and said in an annoyed voice, “Well, thank you, Mr. Anderson, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but this conference is not done ye-”

“Have a good afternoon,” said Ms. Johnson as the door slammed shut.

It was another beautiful Saturday afternoon. Birds were chirping, kids were playing outside, the ice cream truck went by slowly, playing it’s classic jingle and adding the finishing touch on this nice idyllic, suburban town. But for Jax Johnson, he partook in no such things. Stuck in his bedroom, he’d been fiddling around with a device that looked like the world’s most complicated TV remote. Around his room was a mess of unfolded laundry, strewn dirty plates, and crumpled blueprints. He heard a door open downstairs and quickly hid the remote under his bed.

“Hello?” asked Ms. Johnson.

“Hey,” responded Jax.

“How was school today, Sweetie?”

“Just like every other day, Bridgett.”

“Welp, I’m going to start making dinner; should be ready at six,” exclaimed Mrs. Johnson followed by the sound of the stove turning on.

That night after an uneventful dinner, Jax was lying on his bed and examining his remote under the moonlit sky. Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow everything will change. That night Jax slept well for the first time in four years.

The next day nothing happened, at least until 4:21 pm. At 3:35 pm Jax sat in solitary on the roof holding his remote. He started contemplating whether or not to do it, but he had already passed the point of no return. He slaved away for four years, working, attempting to find and create technology that didn’t even exist. So finally, Jax pushed a sequence of buttons, and with his eyes beaming and sweat forming on his hands, started to wait. Jax waited and waited and waited for what felt like forever. Until suddenly the air turned cool, dogs started barking, and a sudden gust of wind almost threw Jax off the roof. Leaves started falling until a sort of mini tornado started to form. He felt like he was being watched. Cracks started appearing on the roof.

Jax scurried around, observing the terrain. Jax’s home was located at the edge of town on a steep hill. He could see the whole town, and to be honest, it was quite beautiful, but not right now. He slowly noticed that cracks were starting to appear all around, as though the houses and buildings were being removed from their foundations. In no time flat, the small town looked as if it was hit by an f2 tornado.

“No, no, this wasn’t the plan!” cried Jax, and suddenly fast as the devastation started, it stopped. Jax sighed a breath of relief, and although his work was a complete failure, at least it didn’t cause complete destruction. He always knew this was a potential risk. 

 Jax stopped climbing down from the roof at once. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. From out of the blue a thunderous sound blasted through the air! Blue light filled everything, creating the smell of petrichor; Jax’s hair stood on end, and he started to disintegrate.

Jax awoke on a bed way better than his own. A king sized tempur-pedic memory foam bed to be exact. But Jax was extremely confused. Did he not just die? At the time he could feel his very molecules being pulled apart. Maybe this was the afterlife; if so the afterlife was incredibly like the previous life. No, if this was the afterlife he would be handed a shamrock shake by a morbidly obese angel baby or something. So where was he?

Even though he felt like he had the world’s worst migraine, he decided to explore a little bit. He was apparently in an extremely white windowless husk of a room. The color of the room was indescribable. It was almost the color of light reflecting on the snow, but somehow even more white. There was absolutely nothing there except for a bed and a tray filled with bacon lying on the floor. Then from the corner of his eye, he noticed a sliver of movement. Then it disappeared without so much as a trace. He stared intently at the sliver of movement for one minute… two minutes… There, it moved again! This time Jax observed that the thing quickly camouflaged itself after two minutes and 43 seconds. He could see that the thing was obviously observing the room, almost like it was a security camera. There was a lense, but it didn’t seem to be attached to anything. Things were getting far more peculiar.

Jax’s breathing became more rapid. His pulse rate was steadily increasing. He knew what was happening. He was getting hysterical. The fear of the unknown had always frightened Jax, but this, no, this was a whole different ball field.

With no other option, Jax decided to take a couple deep breaths and think. He was trapped in an extremely white room with a bed, a seemingly almost invisible camera, and some bacon. And just like any human in this situation, Jax did the reasonable thing; he started to munch on some crispy bacon. After three strips of surprisingly delicious bacon, he was slowly peacing it together.

The beams, the catastrophe in his town, the ridiculous technology, the foreign color of his room. This was no high-tech military base or dream! It seemed as if his machine had worked out somehow. Jax had finally reappeared on the alien ship that had imprisoned him four years ago!

Suddenly faint tapping sounds rang across the blank room. Tap. Tap. TAP. TAP. The sounds were getting louder, yet louder, until a strange cylinder opened up from beneath the bacon. A terrible blue strange head started to emerge from the cylinder. The alien was simultaneously the most beautiful and terrifying thing he ever saw. It had translucent eyes, blue skin, and legs that seemed to be reinforced with a strange amethyst colored metal. It had a spotted cloak that flowed even though there was absolutely no wind. The alien had arms with razor sharp talons and even opposable thumbs! But possibly the most incredible thing about the alien was its hair. It seemed to be mess of snakes, constantly moving around as though they had a will of their own. As Jax was staring profusely at the alien, he heard a mess of incoherent screaming. One of the other aliens armed with a spear pulsing with energy shoved a small cube at Jax’s throat. Jax instinctively dodged the cube, but the alien moved like a streak of lightning and powerfully jabbed the cube at his throat.

There was a brief flash of pain, and then the cube miraculously merged into Jax’s skin; his throat shined a brilliant blue and then snapped back to reality. As Jax was thinking about his last will and testament, he heard a handsome voice say,

“Hello, I’m sorry for that little fiasco.” He quickly pulled out his right hand. Jax hurriedly shook it. “I’m zero-fifteen, and welcome to The Andromeda 6.”

Jax proceeded to tour around the ship The Andromeda 6. While walking around the intergalactic spacecraft, he was amazed at the sheer size of the ship. In comparison his small cell was vastly inferior. There was artificial sunlight, trees growing indoors, and aliens of different color streamed around chanting, “Human! Human! Human!”

“Why do they seem so happy?” asked Jax.

“Well, because you helped us find Earth!” responded 015. Technology was all around them, high tech supercomputers strewn around. Awesome holograms considered only to be science fiction filled the room. Nonchalauntly, Jax looked around the room, and all of a sudden he seized a small disk while no one was looking. Jax surprisingly felt no remorse. He had been captured once before and needed to ensure no others fell to the same fate.

While Jax was deep in thought, he was interrupted by 015. “And that’ll conclude the tour! Your room is in floor 245 (The intergalactic emissary suite). Please enjoy your stay, and feel free to call for anything.”

Even though Jax wasn’t really paying attention, he could tell that 015 had purposely skipped a small room camouflaged to blend in. Jax made a mental note to check it sometime.

That night, Jax couldn’t sleep. He wondered how he could get home; he wondered if he would die here.  He wondered how insignificant the human race was if there were actual aliens. Jax wondered if there was any meaning to life. Jax often had thoughts similar to these, so he decided to change the subject. What was in that room, and what was so important the aliens needed to hide it away?

So Jax jumped down from his luxurious bed, landing on the balls of his feet like a ninja, and tiptoed to his door. But the moment he slowly creaked open his door, he saw how many defensive measures were set up on the spaceship. Guards, spotlights, even automated patrols! Jax was shocked! who in their right mind would install so many defensive capabilities?

While trying to come up with a solution, Jax fished around in his pockets (yes, he wore his pants to bed). He pulled out the little disk he pocketed from earlier. Etched on the machine was a language he could not decipher, but his throat started to tingle, and his head started to pulsate. He could read the text! It seemed to be a teleportation device. In fine print it said, “Teleport small items only (Do not give to children below 13)!” But no one reads the fine print…it appeared to be voice activated.

“Take me to the room.” Nothing happened.

Jax saw that a little scribble on the device said, “Be very specific!”

“Take me to the small invisible room located in the south west wing of the star ship The Andromed 6.” Oh no, Jax started to receive major Deja vu as he felt his molecules being ripped apart again.

He appeared inside of the room!  He could tell because almost everything was in a transparent filter. Jax gasped; this was without a doubt the biggest room in the ship. There were creatures stuck like lamb to the slaughter in tanks. There was also a gigantic machine in the middle of the room that seemed to be incomplete. No, now that he looked closer he could see that the creatures were humans. People were crammed together like sardines. Not only that, Jax recognized some of the people in the tubes. Those aliens had not only abducted him, but his whole town as well!

Jax was filled with white hot rage. His fury knew no bounds. His classmates, his mom, everyone! Jax grabbed the teleporter and went straight to the chamber of 015. This time Jax didn’t even mind the pain. “WHAT THE CRAP?!” Jax screamed at the top of his lungs, awakening 015 from his slumber.

“Jesus, Human, you scared me.”

Jax decided to cut right to the chase.  “Listen you blue turd, I’ve been into the room. I’ve seen the tanks filled with people. Now you’re going to help me release them or I’ll, I’ll bring you to Earth with me!” Jax quick drew the teleporter to show he wasn’t messing around.

“Alright, alright. I can see you’re aggravated, let me get you something to drink.” Jax instinctively punched 015 in the face.  “FINE.” 015’s calm and collected facade instantly disappeared. His voice was dripping with malice and his fists became clenched.  “Don’t assume you're a paragon of justice, sitting on top of your ivory tower! You know absolutely nothing about our race, our culture. Our planets are facing mass extinction! Millions of our kind die every month due to the plague! And the only cure? Human blood.  Would you not sacrifice 60,000 people in order to save trillions?” 015 paused to take a breath, hands shaking.

          “I, I’m sorry, but why didn’t you just ask the human race?” asked Jax.

“Do you not think we have tried? We’ve been here since the seventeen hundreds, attempting to establish a relationship with you. Man, perpetuated by it’s own fear of the unknown, has attacked us every single time. In this day it’s even worse. We’ve observed your media for some time now, painting us in a negative light, showing us destroying civilizations, while in reality we are more civilized than you monsters will ever be. You even treat your own species with moral disdain; how could you monsters ever understand?” 015 whimpered a defeated sigh and said in an extremely weak voice,“go.”

Shaken up, Jax hung his head low and teleported back to the prison room. With each step, Jax felt the weight of his actions. After a walk to the end of the room that seemed like an eternity, Jax reached a complex machine with mysterious wires and strange buttons, but at this point Jax had gotten used to it. After a couple minutes, Jax pressed a blue button tucked away on the far right of the control panel. The sound of compressed gas echoed throughout the chamber as people began to stumble out like zombies. Without a moment's hesitation, Jax helped out the hundreds of people, and after hours they returned back to the blue planet. But on the way back the only thing Jax could think of was what he had just done.

Far away in the depths of the universe, a spaceship drained of all hope floated along aimlessly. 015 was walking on the main deck, void of all hope. Suddenly he heard a crunch beneath his feet. His foot was covered in a warm red substance and glass. Blood, he thought. One foot away another vial of blood appeared, then another, and another, and another! They soon piled up into a mountain of vials. Included  at the top was a little spherical device that said, “Do not give to children below 13.”

-David Zhang

I felt shivers go down my back as I walked down this dusty and reeking hall way. I clutched my books tight to my chest like they were my prized possessions. I stared at the floor so I wouldn’t make any eye contact with anyone, but if I did it might be the last time I see the light of day. I walked down this hallway five days a week, and every single time it just got worse. Lockers slamming, people talking, teachers yelling, and the sound of sneakers sliding across the floor. I tried not to scream as all of this commotion was going on because if I did I could just very well be the next victim.

I saw a lot of things happen at my high school, some good and some bad. The good is that I saw people with bright faces and smiles so big they go from ear to ear. Unfortunately, the bad is really horrendous. People shouting, people with tears streaming down their faces like a waterfall, and people covering their faces with their books, trying to hide from the terrifying world that lies on the other side of their books.

I was very aware of all these things happening around me, and I wrote them down in my black and white composition notebook whenever I thought something was important. Once I saw a kid who looked depressed and had his hand over his stomach. He was watching all the other kids around him eat, wishing he too could have a scrumptious meal in front of him. But he soon looked away and whimpered when he saw nothing was sitting in front of him. A few moments later a boy came over and sat next to him and slid half of a sub in front of him. The boy soon lit up and had that huge smile that went from one ear to the next. They started to chat and soon became friends.

The little things went in my notebook because that’s really what makes a big difference in a person's life. The little things make you have that moment where you just smile. Some people made fun of me for writing things in my notebook, and they called me a freak whenever they saw me staring at them and not blinking for long periods of time, observing their actions. Sometimes they whispered things about me when I walked by them, like they thought I couldn’t hear them. They whispered things like, “That’s the abnormal kid, Emma.” Or they whispered, “That’s the kid who stares at everyone like we’re pieces of art.’’ You know the saying, sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you; well that’s one hundred percent false. Words do hurt, and they make you feel self-conscious. That’s why I always had my head down, staring at my feet. I felt like if I did then no one would notice me, and they’d just pretend like I was on a whole different planet. Sometimes that was more important to me than having someone notice me and taking a chance of them saying something mean.

When I reached my locker that was located in the freshmen wing, I threw off my backpack and coat and just shoved it all in my locker. I quickly took a hold of what I needed for my first core and slammed my locker shut. I rushed to home base to try to get there as quickly as I could so I didn’t have to run into anyone. When I was trying to get to my destination, just minding my own business, trying not to run into anyone, these seniors in high school rounded the corner of the building and just came running towards me like big, huge, bulls who had enormous horns sticking right out of their heads. They never slowed down. They were angry bulls who had just spotted the red flag. They came right for me and snagged my composition notebook right out the grasp of my hands.

“Hey, Jack, I wonder what’s inside?’’ asked one of the seniors.  

“Stop!” I murmured.

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you; did you give me your consent to read it. Don’t mind if I do,’’ said one of the seniors, flipping through my notebook. He landed on this one page that was very private and was only supposed to be seen by my eyes.

“Quit it!” I bellowed, trying to reach for my notebook. I could see the composition notebook in the senior’s hand. I got ready to find the strength buried beneath me to jump and surge toward my notebook. I bent my knees and threw my hands backwards. I was going to reach my notebook. I let go of the fire that was heating up inside me and leaped into the air, soaring higher and higher, getting closer and closer. I was a hand length away from reaching my notebook, but the senior was one step ahead of me. He jerked the notebook out of my reach, and I came crashing down. I collapsed onto the ground, and the seniors started to laugh. My face got red, and my bones started to ache from the fall. I failed to obtain my composition notebook, and I was really starting to feel the waterworks trying to break through my eyelids. I pushed the tears back because I was not going to let them win. The seniors had just gotten started.

“The boy with the curly hair,’’ said the senior who started to read from my notebook, “was giving his food to his friend. The friend had no food to eat and was very thankful that he had a friend like the boy with the curly hair.” I kept fighting to get my notebook back, but I had no luck. The people in the hallway started to walk towards us, and they crowded around us really close. There were a lot of people, and they were just staring at me and giggling. None of them had the leadership or courage to help me get my notebook back and stand up to these bullies. This situation had me fuming. My face started to get red, and I started to gnash my teeth.

“Her face is the color of a tomato. It looks like she’s really furious, I think you should stop reading now,” offered one of the other seniors. He was right; I was mad, I had my hands in fists and I was ready to pounce at them like a cat with sharp claws.

“Nah, I just got started,” contended the senior holding my notebook.

“Please, stop, give it back!” I screamed, but it only caused more commotion.

The senior continued to read from my notebook, and this time he raised his voice for the whole crowd to hear, like they were all the way across the state.

The first bell rang, and the crowd dialed down a little bit, but the seniors were still standing right in front of me. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t leave without my notebook, but somehow I had to get out of this messy situation.

Then, all of a sudden, I could hear a faint sound that was coming from the end of the hallway. I turned around, and I could see a person running towards me. I didn’t know what to do. Was he running to help me with the bullies or was he just late to class? I held onto the first thought of him coming to help me, but then that quickly faded, and I started to resign when he flew right passed me. But all of a sudden, a figure was running towards me again. I could see this person very clearly. He was a tall and skinny boy with brown and curly hair. He looked very familiar, and then I realized that he was the boy that gave his food to his friend. He then suddenly stopped right in front of the seniors, making a loud squeaking noise with his shoes in the process. He immediately reached up and snatched my notebook and then suddenly took off without even saying a single word.

“Hey, wait up, that’s my notebook!!” I yelled, running after him. He turned a corner and then headed up the stairs. It felt like I was playing tag, so I was really out of breath. The guy finally slowed down and he came to a full stop.

“Why, did you take, my notebook, and run?’’ I asked in between breaths.

“Wow, not even a thank you. I saved you from those bullies,’’ the guy said, not even breathing heavily.

“True, you did save me, so I guess that deserves a thank you. But you still made me chase you to get my notebook back,” I stated, a little frustrated.

“Yeah, I did, but only so the seniors won’t follow us,” he said with a very clever follow up.

“Okay, makes sense… can I have my notebook back now?” I asked.

“Only on one condition,’’ he said with a smile. “You make me an obligation that you sit with me at lunch.”

“Deal.”

When lunchtime came I looked for the guy with the curly hair that saved me from those seniors. It was really hard to find him because the lunch room was always so crowded, so it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Good thing he stood up and signaled me over to where he was sitting, because if he didn’t, it would have taken me hours to find him. I walked over with my head down because I knew that the word had spread about the seniors reading from my notebook like when the flu season comes along and suddenly no one is in school. Even with my head down I could still hear the whispers. I finally made my way over to the table, and I sat down with my hands over my ears.

“What are you doing?” asked the boy with the curly hair, tapping on my shoulder. I took my hands off my ears and looked at him.

“I’m using my hands to cover my ears to drown out all of the bad things that people are saying about me, and I’m trying to focus on the positive things. It’s kind of like how a race horse uses blinders to concentrate on the route it has to run.”

“Well that’s… interesting. Hey, can I ask you a question? Why didn’t you bring a lunch?” he asked, concerned. “It’s bad to skip meals.”

“I just forgot, it’s no big deal,” I asserted.

“Well it is, you can have some of my lunch, I insist,” he said, pushing half of his sub closer to me.

“Wow, thanks, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me before,” I announced, taking a bite of his turkey and cheese sub that tasted like heaven just erupted in my mouth.

“No problem,” he said as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I exclaimed.

“I’m Jack,” he responded. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Emma,” I replied. 

After lunch I said goodbye to Jack and thanked him for sharing his meal, and then I went on with my day. 

When the school day was over it was time to head home. I walked out of the building with my head up high and not caring if I saw those seniors again. I was taking my time because my house wasn’t that far away, so I wasn’t in any rush. I found a bench that was on my way home, and I sat down and started to write. I wrote about all the little important things that happened that day, for I had a lot to say.

-Isabella Walsh

Enver entered my office like he always did, with a blank expression and a gun in his belt. There he is, I thought, the man that found me on the streets when I had no one else. I didn’t know if I could do it. But then I thought, he is the man that taught me to kill and murder. He is the one that made me do cruel things. And at that moment, I knew what I was going to do.

Not hesitating a second, he asked, “Why did you tell me to come here?"

“Great to see you too,” I said, “take a seat.”  He was constantly looking around because he would always notice change, even the smallest bit. I could tell he noticed that my office desk wasn’t messy like it always was and that neither my assistant nor partner was in the building. It was completely empty, just like I wanted it. I pulled out a bottle of wine from my mini fridge under my desk, poured it into two glasses and then handed him one. I asked him, “Have you heard the story of how Mevlana and Şemsin met?”

He nodded and said, “No.”

“I suppose you would want to hear it,” I said.

“Go on,” he said. So I did as he said.

“In his time, Mevlana was the most wise and rich of knowledge person in all of the land. There was no known book that he hadn’t read. There was no known book that he didn’t have in his library. He was a man that learned the world in between pages. He once ran into someone who wanted to be like him. He wanted to be wise and rich of knowledge. He wanted to learn the values that Mevlana had learned with his eyes. His name was Şemsin (Sham-sin). He asked Mevlana,  ‘The things you say that give you your knowledge and wisdom, the things you say turned you into you. Are they really the reason behind your wisdom and knowledge?’

Mevlana chuckled and said, ‘I’ve learned a lot of things in life.’ He tapped a book he was holding and then said, ‘I’ve read tons, I’ve read more words than you have heard in your life. These books are the philosophy of my life.’

‘Well if that’s the case, I want to see for myself. Give me three of your top books, the books that mean the most to you.’

Mevlana got up and walked to his library. He came back and handed him the three books that he loved more than his own soul. Şemsin glanced over the three books and then proceeded to throw all three of them in the pool. Mevlana was freaking out, trying to save his books. It was no use, the books were already destroyed.

Şemsin got him to calm down and sit. He told him, ‘Look, the thing you’re looking for is not inside those books. You will not find what you’re looking for by reading. You cannot fill the blank space in your life with your eyes. You will find it by searching the world. You will find what you’re looking for with your heart. Every book in the world is just brain games; they are billions of pages that can’t take the place of love. You will learn by reading, but you will understand by loving.’”

         

“It’s a great story,” he said, “But why are you telling me it?”

“Love,” I said, “Have you ever loved? Have you ever had someone that you would give your life for? Cause I did, I would give up my life for you without a second thought.” He squinted his eyes as if it was heavily raining. I pulled the gun from my belt without him noticing and inserted the silencer under the desk. After years of holding guns, they felt as light as as feather to me. But not this time. This time it felt like lifting a million tons.

“You’re a cruel man,” I said. “You have never loved.” I pulled my million ton gun out and pressed it up against his forehead and pulled the trigger. Pressing the trigger was even harder. It felt like the gun was pointing at my head, and it felt like the bullet went through my own skull. Afterwards, I walked away without looking back. Why did I murder the man that put a roof over my head and food in my stomach? One man, who woke me up, he made me realize what Enver wanted from me. His name was Aslan.

          A week before I did what I did, Aslan called me over into his office. His office was emanating the aroma of pomegranate tea. We sat down and talked for a long time. The wrinkles on his face had patterns of an old tree trunk. He poured tea into my cup. I asked, “Do you have any sugar to go along?”

“Sorry, but I’m not allowed to have sugar; after all, I’m very old. But instead of sugar I could tell you a story.” He caught my interest, and I nodded my head. “Have you heard the story of Hassan Sabbah?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Hassan Sabbah was a man that lived in a castle in the steep mountains of Pamukkale. He was known as a man who could take down empires, a man who served justice, a man who spread fear. And then there was a king; he wanted Hassan Sabbah dead. He sent his bounty hunters to bring him the decapitated head of Hassan Sabbah. Hassan Sabbah knew this and sent his messenger to the king. In the Ottoman Times, messengers were untouchable, so no one was allowed to hurt them. The messenger arrived at the king’s castle. He stood in front of the king and he was asked what message he was sent to tell him.

The messenger took a look around and said, ‘It’s too crowded here.’ The king cleared up the room. The messenger shook his head and said, ‘Only you are to hear this message; send your guards out of the room too.’ The king sent them out as well. But there were still two guards in the room. They were the slave guards. Slave guards were guards of the king that always traveled with him. They were the ultimate loyal guardians of the king. The messenger told the king to order them out of the room. But the king resisted.

 ‘I cannot send them out of the room. They are my sons, I have nothing to hide from them, the three of us are one person.’

‘Well then, I’ll just tell you in front of them.’  The messenger turned to the slave guards and said, ‘If I told you to slaughter the king, what would you do?’

The the two guards pulled out their swords and said, ‘Without a blink.’ The messenger walked away without looking back."

         

“It’s a great story,” I added.

“Now, who am I in this story? Aslan asked.

“You’re Hassan Sabbah,” I replied.

Aslan shook his head and said, “No, I’m the messenger. Then who are you in this story?”

“I’m the guard with my hand on my sword,” I replied.

 “What would you do if I told you to kill Enver?”

“Without a blink,” I said. I tried to act calm to try to hide the fact that heat ran through my whole body like a marathon. Aslan pulled out his pistol and handed it to me. My throat felt dry and I gulped. When I took the gun, it felt like a dumbbell weighing a thousands pounds. I already knew what he was going to say next. He was so calm that it felt like he had done this a thousand times before.  He nodded his head and said, “Then you know what to do.”

-Farshad Tajik

“It had my name on it,” I sighed.

“It definitely didn't,” he carelessly laughed, smiling broadly with each and every one of his perfectly white teeth showing. There's another thing that bothered me; he was born with this perfect smile. I on the other hand, yet again being granted with misfortune, had to have braces for three years. Three. Years.

“You're unbelievable, every time!”

“How is this, you can come with me and a few friends for burgers tonight.”

“And…”

“And I will buy.” He sighed.

“Okay, but I swear the next time you eat my leftovers…” I continued as I shoved him to the side.

“Haha very funny…” he mumbled.

We continued walking tensely in silence, staring at the ground. His hands balled in the sleeves of his sweatshirt. It's not as though my brother and I didn't have anything to talk about; we were actually quite close. Anyway, we had avoided getting too involved in a conversation with each other. This was probably to avoid the chance that The Selection would come up. We both knew it may soon follow, and neither of us was ready to talk about it. It was just too painful. Especially because of Dad. Jacob tensed up. His shoulders were practically up in the sky they were so rigid.

The bright shades of red and orange gleamed in the trees. It smelled fresh, like apples and cinnamon. There were hardly any helicars out, and I didn't see many air bikes out either. Now those were cool; you still do all the pedaling as you would a regular bike, only it rides like a jet pack. I think Jake asked mom for one of those for Christmas last year.  Most people in our town walked from place to place anyway, as it was so small. The bright orange, Welcome to Madaket sign reflected the beaming rays of sunlight. Madaket is our tiny town right here in Massachusetts. There are only a couple hundred people living here. Tiny, I tell you.

The air was clear and brisk, perfect for sorting my thoughts, which I had many of, hands shaking, knees trembling in the cool wind. The weather wasn't exactly ideal, but with what was soon to follow, there's nothing in this world I would trade for spending time with my brother, even if it meant walking in the cold, awful weather. It looked beautiful outside, but it sure was cold.

“Emma!” my best friend Madison shouted, a smile crossed her face from ear to ear.

“Hey, Kit Kat.”

“God, when are you going to let me live that down?”

“Oh, you mean you ate, what was it, Jakey?”

“37.”

“Ah yes, 37 kit-kats and then threw up all over my mom’s brand new helicar.” Jacob and I snickered.

“Jake!” Josh, one of my brother's friends, shouted from the lacrosse field. Josh was taller than my brother. He towered over me, which at times was intimidating. Josh definitely wasn't my favorite of Jakey’s friends. Don't get me wrong, he's nice and all, but he really is your stereotypical dumb jock. He doesn't say much to me.  It's not that he was quiet when I'm around; he was loud, he just didn't say much to me directly.

“By Em, later Kit-Kat.” 

There was a long pause. My brother leaned in to give me a hug goodbye. I didn't want to let go. It was as if every time we said goodbye, I wasn't sure if it would be final. I tensed up a bit, holding on for as long as I could.

“Be careful,” I cautioned, quiet enough so only he heard me.

“I know,” he sighed as he headed off with Josh.

He hesitated for a moment. He turned around, softly smiling and nodding. I must say this wasn't as reassuring as he must have thought. I smiled back, but deep down I knew both of our smiles were fake. He turned around and swiftly ventured off with Josh.

“Emma, Madison,” she continued, “you do realize that in order to be on time, you must check in with security and get scanned within fifteen minutes, don't you?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Well, then I highly recommend you pick up your pace unless you would like to have a word with  the chancellor that is.”

“Yes, ma'am.” We continued as our pace sped up.

The exact moment we had been facially recognized for our presence, our teacher rushed us out of her room and onto our next class. Homeroom didn't end for another 15 minutes, so this appeared to be a bit strange. Then again, I can't remember the last time things were normal around here anyway. The moment the last student left her room, she slammed the door and closed the blinds. Her head hung low, eyes staring dead at the ground.

The number of guards in the halls today was much higher than usual. There were at least three in every hall. All in unison, every teacher's door in the hallway had been locked and slammed shut. The lights were shut off throughout the entire school. I had anticipated a number of terrible scenarios that were about to happen.  I must admit that none of these were good. My mind immediately jumped to Jacob. I wanted to know where he was, and if he was okay. He was the only thing that I had cared about.

Guards began to storm the halls. I felt like I was in the climax of a horror movie.

“Everyone, shoulder to shoulder, on the wall now!” one of them shouted, head held high, shoulders forcefully held back. Fear rushed through me. Palms sweating, heart racing unsteadily, I had never been so scared. I didn't know where he was or if he was okay.

“Student ID and chips out, everyone, now!” one of the guards yelled.

They were wearing black suits that appeared to be padded. Their faces were covered with masks. They began vigorously scanning chips and checking IDs. I saw my brother down the hall on the other side. Our eyes met. He shook his head from side to side, head held lowly, eyes filled with sadness. His forehead was shiny; a tear rolled down his cheek. I believe this was his way of telling me not to do anything stupid for him. The guards began to take the older boys. I could only pray that he wouldn't get taken this year. They neared him, going down the line of people.

“Name?” a guard began to question me.

“I said, name?” he asked; the annoyance in his tone became clear.

“I'm sorry?” I questioned, unaware that I was even being spoken to.

“Girl, what is your name?”

“Oh, um, Emma.”

“Emma….” he continued, impatiently waiting for a response.

“Anderson, Emma Anderson,” I continued.

“ID please.”  The guard scanned my ID. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed Jakey getting questioned. My anxiety heightened. I noticed my breathing getting heavier and heavier. His face looked so serious. It appeared to be full of fear. His foot was tapping quickly. This was a habit of his that I picked up on. He tends to do it when he's nervous. 

I watched the guard turn him around and push him into the lockers.  “No…” I mumbled to myself.  The guard began forcefully pushing him toward the exit, hands cuffed behind his back. “No! No!” I screamed, tears heavily streaming down my cheek. I ran towards him.  “No, please, no!” I sobbed.  “Let him go. Please let him go,” I bellowed, clutching onto the guard's arm, pulling with all my strength.

I screamed in pain. Another guard had lashed me with the electric stick.  “No please, please don't leave me, Jakey, please, don't do it…” I mumbled in pain.

I woke up in my room, alone. I was a bit groggy. My memories seemed to be faded. Confusion crossed me.

“Mom?”

Footsteps rushed down the stairs.

“Em, are you okay? How do you feel, hun?”

“A bit confused…okay is definitely not a word to describe how I feel right now.”  I glanced around my room. My eyes met a picture of my brother and me from my 15th birthday. My memories began rushing back, like water forcefully flowing through a waterfall. What was cloudy and perplexed now become crystal clear.

Tears rushed down my cheek. Pain ached in my heart. I cried. I cried for the boys sent to war. I cried for the mothers that lost their sons. For the sisters that lost their best friends. For the friends who lost their teammate. I cried for my brother. And I cried for me. I cried knowing entirely that the worst had not even neared. That all that would soon follow was pain, agony, and emptiness. That god awful feeling as though a part of you is missing. That hole in your heart that cannot be replaced by anything other than what left it.

I walked down my muffled stairs, head hung low, eyes glued to the ground.  I entered the kitchen, moping.  “Open,” I demanded.  The refrigerator door opened vigorously. Sitting on the top shelf was an untouched styrofoam container box of leftovers. My heart sunk.  “Guess I'm going to have to get used to that…” I mumbled as my last tear fell from my face.

I made myself a cup of Ramen and headed to the couch. I wasn't sure what to do at that point. That is typically when Jakey and I would try to make something for dinner, emphasis on try. We would sit on the couch and watch movies while we talked about our day. This may seem cheesy, but to us, it wasn't. We were best friends. To pass time, I decided to plug in one of our telegrams, one of the early ones. On the front of the case it read, Emma Jacob And Family: 2075. I knew this handwriting. It was my brothers. It was written in blue ink. Probably the feather pen our father gave him before he was drafted. A tear began to roll down my cheek as I traced my finger over each and every letter. I plugged the telegram into the TV. 

There we were, innocently playing in the bright green, dancing grass, smiles from ear to ear. I miss those days. I miss the days never worrying if I would see my brother that night, the days where everything was just right. Just the way it was supposed to be. Sorrow and anxiety never overcame me. Everything was just, right. Now everything was as screwed up as it could possibly be. 

As the different images and videos appeared and passed on the screen, tears began quickly rolling down my cheek. I wiped away a few tears. Without hesitation, I commanded the TV to shut off. It was too soon. Too soon to look back and see us happy and pure. Too soon to remember what has now left a hole in my heart.

-Maya Sweeney

Chapter One

Years ago, the world lived in peace. Until the Fallen Angels started rioting the streets of the humans’ and destroying the balance. The Demons created chaos, even haunted humans’ dreams and lives; the humans were living in fear. So the Queen of the Angels sent down her precious Angels to calm the Demons and restore peace. Of course, this is a long process considering I am here to calm one certain Demon who’s been causing a lot of mayhem lately. Jack.

……………………..

“Honey, it’s time to get up!” Tabatha says. Tabatha is my mother, but not really. While I’m here, they put me in a fake family, and when I’m done they erase their memories of ever having a daughter.

I get up out of bed; I don’t actually sleep, considering I don’t need it. I stay up and work on learning more about my case. Jack has a rough past life. He was abandoned at age 11 and left to fend for himself. He died when he was 18 because men set his house on fire. Maybe I could help him by letting him accept his past.

Maybe.

I open my door and head downstairs.

“Lilli, what are you going to do today?” Frankie slurs. Frankie is also my fake, alcoholic dad.

“I’m going to head out to work soon and then stop by the cafe with Emily and Shawn.” I say, annoyed with how much he needs to know about what I’m doing, considering he is drunk still.

“Alright, well, be good!” Tabatha says, eyeing her husband, clearly upset with him being drunk. She’s been fighting with him for years to stop drinking but even more so now. She puts her hand on my shoulder.

Suddenly, I’m yanked into a memory of hers when she was screaming at Frankie and crying that he should be better, he should be better. “You’re better than this! You can be better than this if you just try, damn it!” Frankie just sat there watching his soccer, not even flinching. I urge myself out of her mind and focus on the present.

“-and we both love you so much so be careful out there, little lady,” she is saying.

“Okay, I love you both too. I should go now,” I say, still surprised by Tabatha’s memory. I close the door behind me and walk to my car. You see, I have a special power. I can see other’s memories when they touch me or even if I brush hands with someone. I’m jolted into a deep memory of theirs, without their consent; I don’t know why I have this power but I do.

I pull out of the driveway and drive down to the creek and get out. I stumble down the side of the creek and take off my shoes. I sit on a rock by the bridge and set my feet in the water. I close my eyes.

I hear the birds chirping and the water flowing. I feel the hot rays of sunshine hit my eyelids and miss my wings, my beautiful long white wings. I miss the wind playing my hair, and I suddenly realize that the humans are missing out on so much. The fun of playing around in the clouds and the Cloud Kingdom. And the Queen, Queen Priscilla, she’s so beautiful and kind. She loves all her little Angels, and we all love her. She’s like our big mom; she’s my true mother and my best friend.

“You look so peaceful,” a voice behind me says. I jump and look around, not finding where the voice is coming from. “How are you so peaceful, it’s just nature.” Finally she sees the shadow under the bridge.

“Nature is beautiful,” I point out. “Can’t you see?”

“No, you’re more beautiful,” he murmurs so quiet I barely hear him.

“I-I’m not r-really.” I say, baffled from his compliment. He laughs.

“I should go now, pretty lady; it was nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Wait!” I haven’t even seen his face before he turns around and walks behind the bridge. I get up and run under the bridge, but when I get there no one is there; it is like he vanished.

Who was that boy? Why did he leave so suddenly? I hope I see him again soon… he can’t just disappear like that. I look at my watch and sigh. I’m late for work. I get out of the water and carry my shoes up to my car and sit in the seat while drying my feet with a towel. After, the towel is covered in dirt and leaves. I put on my shoes and close my car door. I need to hurry.

Lilli.

Queen Priscilla. Hi.

Hello, dear.

Is everything okay?

Yes, I just saw Jack come to the creek today and noticed you talked to him.

I did?

You did.

Oh. That was him?

That was.

Alright, hopefully I see him again.

Okay, my dear, be careful, he’s dangerous.

One thing Queen Priscilla can do is talk to you telepathically. You feel a click in your head and hear her voice. Sometimes it’s stressful because some thoughts I don’t want shared, so I have to focus only on her and nothing else.

How was that Jack? He sounded so kind and sweet.

I park at the corner store and hurry inside.

“Lilli, you’re late!” Peter scoffs.

“Yes, at least I have a life!” I shoot back. I run to the back to get dressed.  I shove my stuff in my locker and pull on my work clothes. Paul walks in the Employee room whistling a probably made up song and writing in his notebook.

“There’s boxes outside that need to be brought inside, and since you decided to be late, you get to move them!” He sings and twirls around like a ballerina.

“Nice moves,” I laugh. “And I’m on it.”

I go out the back door and walk to the truck drop off. I pick up two boxes and carry them to the hand cart. I pull the cart back and push it to the storage room. I do this process maybe 15 times before I’m finally finished. I go to the break room and flop down on the couch, worn out.

Jen waltzes in the room.  “Hey, Peter says to unpack those now.” I groan.

“No. You go tell Peter to do it himself!” I complain, pulling a pillow over my face. Jen pushes my leg and starts to say something, but I’m not listening.

“Honey, did you take your meds?” Jen said. Her daughter shook her head. “Baby, you’ve got to take them.” Her daughter shook her head again. Jen left the room to call the doctor.

“What, Jen, I’m not on today, this is my only day off; this better be good.”

“Dr. Smith, she won’t take her medicine!” Jen said, scared for her baby girl.

“Tell her she has cancer and can’t just not take them,” he lousily suggested.

“No! Are you insane?! That’s too blunt for a little girl!”

“Tell her she’s got to fight for Mommy and for her brother. Then she’ll be more than happy to.” He hung up.

I pull myself out of Jen’s memory.

“- and Paul said to, too,” Jen says.

“Okay, fine.” I sigh. I get up and go to the storage room to create piles of all the things inside.

“Hey, here you are again,” the same voice from earlier says. I turn around, and I see Jack leaning against the wall.

“Hi,” I say, nervous. He looks me up and down, which makes me self conscious of the outfit I’m wearing, until I realize he’s wearing the same work clothes as me. “You work here now?”

“Yep, I’m a newbie.” I look at his name tag: Jack.

“Jack, huh?”

“And you’re Lilli. Almost as pretty as you yourself,” he compliments.

“Har har, not really. My name is the prettiest part of my existence,” I scoff.

“Ah, so you’re Lilli with a Low Self-Esteem. Duly noted.”  I nod as I finish stacking the products and etcetera. I start to stand up, but he offers his hand; I think for a second and then grab his hand.

He was sleeping. Six men circled his house and spilt the strong smelling oil all over his home. They made a trail leaving. Two of the men opened their lighters and dropped them on the trail, sending a furious fire up the grass to his home, engulfing it with the orange fury. As the men ran, Jack awoke and screamed in pain as the fire licked his legs. He got up in pain and ran to the window, the fire still trying to burn him. The fire blocked the window. He turned to go to the door, but the fire already claimed it. He had no escape, he screamed and cried, hoping someone would hear his desperate calls, but no one did. As he lay on the floor he soon became numb, letting the fire hold him; he imagined the fire was furious because he was abandoned and hurt; he imagined the fire only wanted to hold him, so he let it. He never woke up.

“Your hands are really warm,” I say, still thinking about his memory.

“Yeah, I don’t know why, they’re just really hot all the time, just like the rest of me,” he replied cockily. I scoff.

“And you’re Jack with an Ego,” I say, forgetting why I even needed to be cautious around him. Then I remember, he could be the destruction of the peace we’re trying to rebuild; our Queen has seen visions of hellfire under this boy as he destroys this world hand in hand with the Devil. I snap out of the trance he put me in. I let go of his hand and walk back inside, leaving him, but he follows.

“How long have you worked here?” He asks, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Three years,” I say, walking out to go to the cashier. Still, he follows. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs, watching me. I laugh.

“Go ask Paul, then.”

“Who’s he?”

“Are you joking? He’s the manager, and the guy you had to talk to to work here, and this store is named after him!”

“Oh, okay, I’ll go ask him what I’m supposed to do,” he says, but he doesn’t move. A customer comes to my register, so I turn and choose to ignore Jack’s eyes on the back of my head.

“Hi, welcome to Paul’s Corner Store, how are you? How’s your day so far?” I ask.

“Hi, yeah, well, I’m feeling pretty malaise, and my day was long, so let’s leave it at that,” they say, putting their items on the counter. I start scanning them.

“Well I hope there was some good in your day,” I say, meaning it.

“Ah, we’ll see,” they say as I notice Jack still hasn’t moved. I finish scanning everything and wish them a good rest of the day. When I turn around Jack isn’t there anymore. Huh, I think. I look at my watch; my shift is over. I walk to the back to ask Paul where Jack is.

“Where’s Jack?” I ask.

“I don’t know; it’s like he disappeared. Why, do you two know each other?” Paul asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, no, I just met him, and he, like, teleported away.”

“Oh well, have a nice day, Lilli, your shift is over.”

“Thanks, Paul,” I say, walking to the changing room for employees. I change back into my normal clothes and head out the side door.

I think I see Jack leaning on the wall in the alley, but when I look back I see no one. I start to head home. My thoughts churn; what was that?

-Bridget Sill