by Melody Grace
It wouldn’t. I loved skateboarding.
I’d show her. I’d show everyone. Just wait till they saw my 180 kickflip.
I turned away from the ramp and found myself some space. The 180 kickflip is a tricky move. It takes a lot of practice. You have to get your balance and timing just right.
I got the board rolling, placed my feet, bent my knees, and—
…missed! Almost face-planting, I put my hand on the ground as the skateboard skidded across the concrete.
Stupid board.
Rubbing my palms on my shorts, I picked it up and tried again.
This time, it slipped sideways, and I landed hard on my elbow. The skateboard clattered away. It was getting a battering, and so was I. But practice makes perfect, so I kept at it.
After a while, I noticed the boy was no longer on the ramp. Leaning against a rail, he was watching me.
“It’s your board that’s the problem,” he said, striding over. “It’s not right for you. Here, try mine.” He offered me his board.
“Really?”
“Sure. Give it a go.”
I took the Demon Rider from him and placed it on the ground. When the board was moving, I crouched, then stamped down hard with my back foot, jumping while flipping the Demon Rider. I sailed through the air and landed safely on the board.
Wow, I did it!
I could hardly believe it. I had another go in case that first one had been a fluke. Another perfect 180 kickflip! Bursting with excitement, I did another, and another. The sun was dropping below the tops of the pines when I returned the board to the boy.
“What did I tell you?” he said. “It was your board.”
“This is a great board. Where did you get it?”
He shrugged. “Can’t remember. But I could sell it to you.”
My shoulders slumped, and I shook my head. “I haven’t got any money.”
“I’ll swap it for your hat and trainers.”
Was that all? I didn’t argue. I handed them over. “You’re not going to change your mind?” I asked.
Flicking up my cousin’s old board, the boy tucked it under his arm. “If you’re worried, we can shake on it.” He held out his hand.
I thrust my palm in his. A zap of purple static arced between us.
“Hey!” I jumped back. “What just happened?”
A grin spread across his face. “Too late now,” the boy said. “A deal’s a deal.” He turned on his heel and sauntered into the gloom.
A chill crept through me and I tried to chase him, but purple lightning flashed and, bang, I was back where I started.
I should have known it was too good to be true. I was stuck in Hitchcock Memorial Skateboard Park forever.
Jessica’s Bedtime
Story // Gabie Rivera
* * *
Jessica’s bedtime was at 9:00 pm, every night. Her parents said it was for her own good, but Jessica didn’t think so. All of her friends stayed up late and she didn’t like being the only one who had a bedtime. It wasn’t fair that all of her friends got to stay up and watch shows that she couldn’t. It made her feel excluded, and she didn’t like that.
Jessica had tried to secretly stay up a few times before, but she had been caught all of those times and grounded. Tonight, however, Jessica’s parents were going out to dinner and they wouldn’t be back until later that night. They were going to leave Jessica with a babysitter; Anna. Jessica knew that Anna wouldn’t check on her to make sure she was asleep. As soon as Anna sent Jessica up to bed, she would sit on the couch and watch movies while talking on the phone with her friends.
Jessica’s plan was to pretend to go to bed at 9 o’clock, and then sneak off into the guest bedroom across the hall, which had a TV. At 9 o’clock that night, Anna came into the living room while Jessica was watching TV.
“Come on, kiddo. It’s bedtime!” Anna said.
Jessica agreed without arguing as she normally did and went upstairs and got ready for bed. She changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and even got into bed.
“Good night!” Anna called as she turned off the lights and walked out of Jessica’s room.
Jessica could feel her heart beating fast in her chest. She was scared of the small possibility that she would get caught. What if Anna came upstairs to check on her? What if Anna wanted to use the bathroom across the hall and noticed that Jessica wasn’t in bed?
Jessica laid in the dark as she took a few deep breaths, and finally, got up out of bed and tiptoed to the doorway. She stuck her head out into the hall and listened. She could hear Anna talking downstairs, and the sounds coming from the TV. Jessica ran across the hall and into the guest bedroom, shutting the door and turning on the light.
She grabbed the remote control from the dresser and got up on the bed, turning on the TV. As the show began, Jessica felt giddy. She had done it! She had managed to sneak off and stay up later. She would finally be able to talk about it with her friends instead of being the only one left out of the conversation.
The show lasted about forty minutes, and Jessica was having trouble staying awake towards the end. She was so used to being asleep by now, that it was hard for her to keep her eyes open to finish the show. There were only about ten minutes left when Jessica heard a noise out in the hall. She quickly reached for the remote and muted the TV as she listened. She got up and turned the light off, then pressed her ear against the door as she heard footsteps.
She thought it might be Anna coming to check up on her at first. What was she going to say when Anna found out that she had broken the rules? She was definitely going to tell Jessica’s parents, which meant that Jessica was going to get grounded again.
Jessica held her breath and listened as the footsteps came to a stop right outside the door. She heard the sound of her bedroom door opening across the hall and sighed. Anna was going to see that she wasn’t in the room and Jessica was going to get in trouble. She waited in the dark, glancing at the TV every few seconds. The show was still on and she was missing the end, which was the best part.
She waited for Anna to begin calling her name, but nothing happened. Jessica pressed her ear against the door, harder this time, trying to hear what was going on. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door to the guest bedroom.
“Jessica...let me in!” Someone sang.
It wasn’t Anna. Jessica didn’t recognize the voice at all. It was a very low voice, and it sounded like whoever was talking had a cold. Jessica said nothing as she stood against the other side of the door, afraid.
“Jessica...I can’t believe you broke the rules!” The voice sang, knocking on the door once again.
Jessica was scared, but she didn’t know what to do. If she called for Anna, then she would get in trouble for staying up. But if she didn’t, then whoever was on the other side of the door might get to her.
“Jessica...kids have bedtimes for a reason!” The voice sang.
Jessica ran to the closet and went inside, closing the door and making her way to the very back, hiding behind all the winter coats. She listed as the doorknob turned, and the door squeaked open. Her heart was racing in her chest once again, but this time, it was out of fear.
She listened, shutting her eyes tight. The sound of wet footsteps got closer and closer to the closet, as the thing out there walked into the guest bedroom. Jessica kept her eyes closed, regretting her decision to break the rules. This wasn’t worth it.
When the footsteps stopped right outside the closet door, Jessica held her breath. She could see a shadow standing outside the door. The light from the TV would light up the room for moments at a time, and the shadow remained in its spot.
Jessica closed her eyes again, and stayed that way, standing silently in the back of the closet for what felt like hours.
“Jessica? Jessica, wake up!”
Jessica could feel someone shaking her. She screamed and opened her eyes.
“Jessica, are you alright?” It was her mom.
Jessica l
ooked around, confused. She was in her bed, and it was morning outside. Her mom was sitting on the edge of Jessica’s bed, looking concerned.
“What happened?” Jessica asked.
“I think you were having a nightmare.” Her mom said.
Jessica thought back to the thing that was outside the closet door. Of course, it was all a dream. There was no way it was actually real. Jessica was just having a nightmare. She must have fallen asleep and dreamt about staying up.
Jessica went about the rest of the morning as she usually did, brushing her teeth, changing out of her pajamas, and then eating breakfast. As she ate her waffles, her dad came downstairs.
“Hey Jessica, you didn’t go into the guest bedroom yesterday, did you?” He asked.
Jessica stopped eating. She shook her head.
“Did Anna go in there?” He asked.
“I don’t think so.” Jessica replied.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Jessica’s mom asked.
Jessica’s dad sat down at the kitchen table.
“Well, it’s the weirdest thing. There are these dirty footprint stains all over the carpet. It’s like if someone jumped in a puddle and then walked around in there. It’s filthy.” He said.
Suddenly, Jessica wasn’t so hungry anymore.
“Oh, and another thing.” Jessica’s dad said.
“What?” Her mom asked.
“For some reason, the TV was on.”
The Graveyard
Story // Melody Grace
Illustration / D. & L. Powell
* * *
“Let’s go to the graveyard!” Harmony shouted enthusiastically.
I stared at my sister waiting for the punchline.
“Are you serious? On Halloween?”
She nodded down at me with a sinister smile, causing me to roll my eyes. As her little sister, I have every right to tease her about her fear of spooky situations.
“Do you remember what happened last time we went to the cemetery at night? You ran away screaming like a little girl when the grave keeper showed up.” I snickered.
Harmony gave me a small jab, grabbing her coat, while giving me a wink. I sighed and followed her out the front door. This was going to be interesting.
As soon as we entered the stone gates of Black Diamond Cemetery, Harmony grabbed my arm.
“Aww you’re scared?” I joked.
“No! I’m just cold! Come on,” she announced as she pushed onward.
When we reached the newer graves, I froze. Howard the grave keeper was hunched over a head stone, furiously chipping away at the letters.
“That’s impossible!” I whispered.
Harmony looked at me and sighed. “I’m not scared of him Mel! He just startled me last time, okay? Move on!”
I looked up at my sister, eyes wide as I tried to form the words.
“Harm… Howard died last month…”
We both looked at the grave keeper in horror. I took a step back, attempting to pull Harmony from her prettified trance, when I stepped on a branch.
Crunch
Howard stood abruptly and turned to face us. His eyes were hollow and black as he stared into our souls. Then he cleared his dry, scratchy throat and spoke in a voice only meant for the dead.
“Oh. Sorry. They uh, spelled my name wrong.”
Joe White And The Seven Orcs
Story // N.M. Brown
Illustration //Nick Dunkenstein
* * *
Joseph White was ordinary in every sense of the word. He held no magical powers, was related to no royalty and lived the son of a witch’s humble lifestyle. It was the joy that radiated from his heart that made his story worth telling.
Joe was a friend to the entire Kingdom. He played music for the Ents and forest elves; bringing light to the dull forest. They loved to sway and bob to the beats. Breaching the gap between townsfolk and the tree people meant peace for both sides. No more missing children, in return for no more destruction to their forests.
The elven community sung his praises. He may well have been an Elf himself for as much time he spent there.
But no matter where Joe was, one thing could be guaranteed. Seven orcs would soon follow. They weren’t your stereotypical Orc though. These were as gentle and kind as their race allowed them. All had different traits and dislikes. This was how Joe gave them their names. Their own parents not caring enough to do it themselves.
Slumbro was a sluggish beast. He was only angered when awakened. His name was a self-explanatory warning.
Coy was one of the most intelligent members of his species. He rarely wasted words on his own kind or others. Joe named him bashful as a saving face for the Orc. Whenever someone would speak and he’d turn his nose up in silence, Joe would cut in. “Oh, he’s not rude or anything, just playing coy.” The human’s smile successfully excusing any behavior emitted their way.
Wheezy was the eldest and weakest; always coming down with this ailment or that. The other Orcs knew his time in the Earthly realm was limited, but no one knew by how much. Joe and the others collectively dubbed him ‘Wheezy’; blaming his failing health on allergies.
Whizz was a huge reason why Wheezy was still with us. His discoveries in medicine and sorcery were astounding. Not many wizards exist among the Orc race period, but he was certainly the best.
Grumble was a grumbly beast. His demeanor and behaviors left a lot to be desired. The only reason Joe hadn’t turned his back on him yet was because he meant them no harm. The guy was also a tank; an almost indestructible solid force. His attitude often got in the way of get togethers, but it was nothing a little Port couldn’t fix.
Derpy was brute strength and no brains. This Orc could often be found drunk in the forest mumbling to the Ents. He never complained though, and was always glad to be a part of things.
Sonny was the most helpful of the Orcs. He didn’t seem to maintain the soldier’s mentality that the others did. He felt most like a warrior not during battle, but in fixing problems for others. Even when he couldn’t help, he would stay with someone until assistance arrived.
They all helped each other; grew up together. Sonny was the first one at Joe’s house when his father died. He absorbed Joe’s misdirected anger when he had no one to blame for the loss. The newfound fury was too much for the young boy’s heart to hold. Sonny and the others helped him through.
Joe’s mother didn’t recover as well, or at all in fact. The witch became obsessed with protecting her only son; refusing to be alone in a World that made her a widow. She was a good witch at first. She did a lot for her community just as Joe did. But her heart became hardened with loss. Her rationality and thinking taking a backseat to her fear of being alone. It made her feel infinitesimally small in a World too large for her to face. So, the once good witch turned evil by fear.
But Mrs. White’s husband passed away two years ago, and it was time for her son to start a life of his own. The witch knew keeping her son there would only sour him against her. Their relationship would never be one of unity if he hated her for holding him hostage. She struggled to think of a way to keep him to herself. She needed to be his mother, to have meaning. Joe moving out would take that away.
Moving day finally came, and the witch couldn’t morally ask him to stay any longer. The Orcs helped him gather his belongings, ready to move them to a bungalow farther East. She cast a mist spell upon her face, feigning the appearance of tears as she handed him a moving out gift.
It was a pie, the finest one she had ever made. The apples were freshly picked, and the pastry was just the right temperature when she placed it into the oven. Frozen cubes of butter were placed inside the dough, just as Joe and his father liked. The same butter used in the crust was mixed with sugar to a golden syrup. They called it caramel.
Sadly, the apples within the pie were tainted. The caramel topping drizzled on top and mixed into the filling to cover up the bitterness of the soaked apples. An enchantment was placed into them, the recipien
t would fall into a vegetative stage upon ingestion. Only the person’s true soul mate can reverse the enchantment.
The witch rehearsed for the knock at the door she knew would come. Whizz stood on her doorstep, hat in hand and tears in his reddened eyes.
“S-something’s happened to Joe. His eyes are open, but I can’t wake him up. I’ve tried everything that I know. Nothing has helped. We don’t want him to be alone. Can you please help us?”
The witch collected her son, ready to bring him home where he belonged. This way, he could never hate her; never fall in love and marry- leaving her alone to rot forever. Her child, although grown, would need her forever. Barely anyone wandered through her part of the forest. The chances of him meeting his soul mate laid out in his bedroom for the next eternity were unlikely. When her heart stopped beating, the enchantment would reverse, simple as that. Joe could do what he liked after she was gone.
The house was full of sobbing figures. Mourning treants dropped dew from their leaves. Elven ears dropped in sorrow from the loss of such a prominent friend and member of their home. Orcs grumbled through tears, foolishly planning attacks on nameless figures at unknown locations.
A young girl had arrived, crying hysterically. She had been chased off of the road and through the woods by an attacker. Everyone assumed that her tears were in mourning of their friend. Joe knew so many different groups of people.
Reluctantly, she got in the line of visitors; unsure of what she’d gotten herself into. One moment, she was running from a crazed murderer, the next she stumbled into a funeral of sorts and was being comforted by giant Orcs.
The men placed their hands over his heart. Some crying openly, but most sniffling stoically. Women kissed his cheeks and eyes, leaving fresh tears on his cold face. The second he was in full view, her heart felt irrevocably pulled to his.
