by Scot McAtee
My One True Love
Haley Ziolkowski
As I picked it up, I realized that I really do love it and I need to appreciate it more. This thing that I’m holding is what life is really about. I have the urge to go tell everyone what my newfound love is because I’m so excited about this. At this moment in time, I realized that I am completely and utterly in love with this Chipotle burrito.
Now I know that you are probably confused about what is going on right now. I was too, at first. The story goes like this: One day I was walking down Main St. and noticed a sign that caught my eye. I couldn’t make out what it said so I decided to venture over and see what this gleaming beauty really was. As I rounded the corner of 5th and Main, there it was. A rather large sign that read in big white letters: CHIPOTLE. I had always seen tweets from basic white girls about how “chipotle is life” but I never understood how a Mexican subway could be equivalent to life. Beats me, I thought to myself. As I looked up at the Chipotle sign, my stomach growled like a momma bear would growl if you were standing too close to her cubs. I guess now would be a good time to eat, I thought to myself, and since I’m standing in front of a very delicious-smelling restaurant I guess I can eat here.
As I walked in the front door, I honestly do believe that I got a face full of Heaven. Before I even made it to the line to order my food I knew I was destined to be here. I proceeded to the line of only a few people to order my food. Almost everybody in front of me ordered burritos, but one girl ordered a bowl. I wasn’t exactly sure about which one I wanted, so I came to my decision by using ‘eenie meenie miney moe.’ I landed on burrito so that’s what I was going to go with. Nearing the front of the store, I glanced down the endless bar of beans, rice, toppings, sauces, etc. It was like I was in Heaven’s main buffet. I started to listen to the choices of the people in front of me just to get an idea of what everyone else enjoyed. Still in awe of this profound institution, I stepped up to the plate. “Hi, welcome to Chipotle. Have you been here before?” the lady behind the bar said to me with a rather large smile on her face. “Nope, this is actually my first time” I explained to her. Barely being able to hide my excitement I waited for her to reply. “Awesome, a newcomer, let’s get you started. Would you like a bowl or a burrito?” she asked me. Remembering the outcome of the ‘eenie meenie miney moe’ game, I ecstatically proclaimed “burrito, please.” “Awesome,” she said then turned away and picked up a very large tortilla and placed it in a big metal press which, I assumed, was the warmer. After it was warm she took it out and placed it on an even bigger sheet of tin foil. Then she slid it down the bar and asked “Next comes your base. Would you like white or brown rice?” Not mentally prepared for this question, I stopped and thought about it for a second. Every aspect of this burrito MUST be utter perfection and nothing less. I then told her that I would like white rice followed by black beans. “Okay, next you get to choose your toppings. There are several that you can choose from, so this may take a couple minutes to think about.” She chuckled after she said this but I didn’t find it funny at all. I stood there and stared at her in all seriousness because this isn’t a laughing matter. I could tell that she didn’t know if I was being serious or not because she just kind of stood there staring at me, the grin slowly fading off of her face. I then decided that she wasn’t worth wasting time on so I began to ponder the bar of toppings that I could choose from. They had all kinds of stuff: lettuce, tomatoes, a mixture of corn, some type of liquid and cilantro, sour cream, black beans, brown beans, guacamole, salsa, and more. Looking at all of these toppings was like looking into the gates of Heaven. After pondering my decision a little while longer, I finally came to my conclusion. “I’d like everything.” I told the lady behind the bar whose nametag read Helga. Helga? I thought to myself. Whatever. I didn’t care what the employees names were, I cared about my precious baby that was being loaded up as I we speak. I thought about my decision in my head. I knew it was the right one. After Helga fully equipped my burrito with everything I could ever desire, I paid the overpriced total that my meal came out to and sat down in a table by the window. I just stared at my tin foil wrapped burrito. My mouth was salivating more than I thought was even humanly possible. This is it, I thought to myself, this is the sole reason you were put on this Earth. I unwrapped the tin foil as gently as possible from the warm burrito. Being as big as my left arm, this burrito was a lot heavier than I thought it would be. Once I had it in my hands, I said a prayer really quick just thanking Jesus for being that dude. He’s awesome. I mean, he created Chipotle, this burrito, and he knew that I was supposed to be here at this very moment. Thanks J, amen. Next, I took the biggest possible bite of this oversized burrito. I chewed, stopped, and wiped a tear from my eye. This thing that I’m holding was the best thing that I had ever eaten. Was it actually a burrito? No, this wasn’t made by any ordinary chef, a complete mastermind. I should go thank him, I thought to myself. I am in love. Not with a woman, or a man, or an animal, but with this Chipotle burrito. I looked up at a sign that read “You are exactly where you are supposed to be.” True that.
The Rings
Haley Ziolkowski
There was an old house that I passed every day I came home from work. I couldn’t tell you what it was about this house but something intrigued me. I looked at it every chance I had. It was a big 3 story Victorian home with bushes and a fence on the outside. There was a rumor going around town that the old lady that used to live here committed suicide after having horrendous nightmares night after night. I never actually knew what the real story about it was but I didn’t care. I needed to figure out what it was about this old, mysterious house. On the final day, I decided to stop and try and see what was inside.
As I neared the house, I became very uneasy. I felt as if there were butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. I had no idea why this house made me feel this way but I wouldn’t stop until it made some sense. I pulled into the driveway, shifted my car into park, and got out. I started to walk up to the house when I heard a quiet thud inside of the house. At this point, I was terrified, but I felt that I needed to see what was inside. I walked up the steps only to find a doorbell. Unsure whether I should ring it or knock on the door. After some contemplation, I decided to ring the doorbell. After I did, I realized that it might not have been the best decision I’ve ever made.
Shortly after I rang the doorbell, I heard what sounded like loud footsteps creeping slower than I would’ve liked down the stairs inside of this mysterious house. None of this made sense to me after hearing all of the rumors about the homeowner passing away from hanging herself. I thought about it for a second: maybe her spirit stayed inside the house. After thinking about the whereabouts of the old lady that used to live here, I remembered the footsteps. They’ve stopped. Seconds later, the door creaked open ever so slowly and stopped when it was a little over halfway open. I didn’t know what to do, so I peeked my head inside and, not to my surprise, there was nobody there.
I removed my head from this unknown house. I needed to think about what was about to happen if I actually went inside of this house. I had no idea what was inside, I had no idea who even owned this house. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that going into the house was a good idea, so I proceeded, not knowing what to expect next.
As I took my first steps into the house, my heart was practically beating out of my chest. I walked further and further into the front hall. There were butterfly doors leading into the room right next to me so I decided to walk in that direction. When I entered the room accompanied by the butterfly doors, there was a winding staircase that led to the dark, unlit upstairs. Eh, why not go a little further, I thought to myself. I continued up the winding staircase and when I got to the top, I couldn’t believe what was before me.
I couldn’t believe what was before me because I actually couldn’t see what was up there due to the fact that it was pitch black. I found a wall and followed it until I came across, what seemed like, a rough patch in the w
all. It felt sort of like something had been spilled and dried. I chose to ignore it and continue my search for a light switch or something that would provide me with some guidance. I finally came across a light switch and flipped it up. Surprisingly, the light turned on. I glanced behind me to see what I had felt on the wall. You’d think that the sight of dried up, splattered blood across the wall would send me into a state of shock or fear. However, it didn’t even phase me. I decided to move on and find whatever else I could in this mysterious house.
There was another room to the left of me so I walked into it. This room, unlike the rest of the ones that I’ve seen, seemed to be a bedroom. The master bedroom, I thought to myself. In the corner sat a huge stand-up wooden piece of furniture. This piece being the only thing that actually stood out to me, I walked over to it and immediately realized that it was a jewelry box. I moved out of the way so that my shadow wasn’t covering it anymore and noticed that there were no knobs or anything to open it, there was only a keyhole. I searched on top of the box and there was nothing. I turned around to search further for the key and accidentally kicked something that rattled across the floor and landed underneath the master bed. I walked over to the bed and lifted the bed skirt to find what I thought would be the mystery key. Instead, there was a dusty ring. I picked it up, wiped the dust off, and examined what I was holding. It was a band with 4 pearls all arranged in a row surrounded my diamonds. In awe of its beauty, I put it on my middle finger. When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the mysterious unknown house anymore; I was standing by a table in the middle of, what seemed like, an old pizza parlor. Sitting across from me at a table for two were two people that I had never seen before. Sitting all around me were people that I had never seen before. The boy across from me was talking about something that I was unaware of and then the girl started talking. I wasn’t necessarily paying attention to what they were saying because I was in shock about what was going on. I looked down and my feet, legs, and the rest of my body were still attached and my hands were still here too. I then noticed that I still had the ring on that I had found in the mysterious house. Was this ring able to transport me to different periods of time? I thought to myself. I started to remove it from my finger and suddenly I was back upstairs in the mysterious old house.
I had no idea what was going on. But was I did know I was sure of: this ring had powers and I wanted to find the rest of them. The first step in finding the rest of them is finding the key to this jewelry box, I thought to myself. I didn’t care that I was in some mysterious old house anymore; I cared about finding the key. I searched all around this upstairs room and finally, hanging on a wooden post by the entrance, I found the hidden key. Running over to the jewelry box, I slid the key into the hole and turned it. The first door opened up with the second following. There was nothing inside of the box except 4 more rings lying on the first shelf. They were the most beautiful pieces of jewelry I had ever laid eyes on. I couldn’t wait to try these on and see where they take me.
They were all arranged in a line, so I decided to try the one on the far left on first. It was almost as if it were an engagement ring: a simple band lined with sparkling diamonds and one huge diamond in the center. I picked it up and started to slide it down my middle finger. Again, I opened my eyes and I wasn’t in the old house anymore, I was on a yacht in the middle of the ocean with the same guy and girl that appeared with the first ring. Only this time he wasn’t sitting at a table in the middle of a pizza parlor, he was kneeling down on one knee proposing to this hysterical woman. I’d never seen someone cry as much as this lady cried. I wanted to know more about what was going on so I walked into one of the doors on this magnificent yacht and searched for something to tell me what on Earth was going on. Hanging on the refrigerator was a calendar that ready July 1952. “1952??” I yelled aloud. This was crazy! I could not believe what was happening. I then decided to remove the ring from my finger and again ended up back in the old house. I thought for a second, this can’t be all there is to these rings. I mean, there’s no real significance. I was determined to find out what these rings actually meant. I came to the conclusion that the only way to find out what these rings’ significance was to continue trying them on and see what unfolds next in the story. I placed the engagement ring back on the shelf where it was when I found it. I then took the next one in the row and slowly placed it on my finger. This time I wasn’t on a yacht or in the middle of a pizzeria: I was standing on the beautiful, sunny sands of a beach that I didn’t recognize. What, or who, I did recognize was the girl that had I had seen in the past when I put on the different rings. Another clue: these rings must’ve belonged to this girl because she is in every single one of these flashbacks. I ran to catch up with her and find out what information this flashback contained. As I neared her, I realized that she was walking a little too fast for it to be normal. Something was up. I followed her into the resort lobby. As soon as she got inside she ducked behind an indoor tree. I looked around to see what, or who, she was hiding from and there it was; her husband was standing in line with another woman, holding her hand, kissing her cheeks, laughing and smiling like there was no tomorrow. All the while his wife was hiding behind this tree, watching everything go on. I had no idea how she was keeping her cool. After her husband bought his and his mistress’s room, they were hurriedly on their way to their room, I’m assuming. His wife ran out from behind the tree and followed them for far enough behind that they could not see her. I followed right behind her so I wouldn’t miss out on the events that would soon follow. We followed them up to their room and before the door shut all the way, his wife stuck her shoe in the bottom so she could get in when needed. She waited a couple minutes for them to get situated and then barged into their room. Unexpectedly enough, they were already in bed together. As I was following his wife into the room I noticed that she had stuck something in the back of her pants. However, I couldn’t tell what it was. When she ran into the room screaming, her husband’s mistress jumped out of the bed that contained this horrified woman’s husband. I then knew what the object was that was tucked in the back of her pants for she whipped it out a started viciously stabbing the mistress, then her husband. I did not expect this at all. I had no idea what I had just witnessed. After she brutally stabbed both of the people in the hotel room, she ran out; down the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the hotel. I was still standing in the hotel room, in shock of what I just witnessed. I hurriedly took the ring off and placed it back in the cabinet. After I took it off, I collapsed to the ground. I didn’t know what to do. There was one ring left but after seeing what came with the last ring, I was positive I wanted to see this last one. I decided that I couldn’t stop now. I stood back up and slowly reached for the very last ring. I placed it on my finger as I had done several times before, not knowing what to expect next. I opened my eyes and I was standing outside in the rain at somebody’s funeral. The only person I recognized was the man’s wife that was in every other one of these flashbacks. She was standing under a black umbrella, in a long, black dress, black shoes, and a black hat with netting over the face. I walked closer to this woman in black. I didn’t understand what was happening. Did she not get caught after what she had done? Did anyone even know about what happened? I got close enough to her face to where I could see her expression and it wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t sorrow. She wasn’t sobbing or even crying. She was standing under this black umbrella in her black outfit smiling. This was it. I was done with these rings. I was done with this house. I removed the ring from my finger faster than I had any of the other ones. I threw it back on the shelf and ran down the stairs and out of the house. I got in my car and sat in my seat staring at this house, thinking about everything that had just happened. I sped out of the driveway and drove home as fast as I could. When I got inside I went straight to my computer. I typed in “husband and mistress homicide 19.” I clicked on the first entry that showed up and read. “Man and mistress murdered in California hotel. Su
spect never found. Wife in deep sorrow.” That’s it. They never found out that it was his wife that murdered these people. 4 people knew about the homicide and 3 of them aren’t alive anymore.
A Life Changing Surprise
Haley Ziolkowski
“WATCH OUT” a voice loudly shouted from behind me as I ran further into the blazing house. As I glanced behind my shoulder I watched a log as red as a fire truck fall to the spot that my feet had just left. When I turned back around I noticed a cry of help and a flailing arm coming up from a pile of collected debris. There was only one thing on my mind from that point forward: rescue, rescue, rescue.
I ran to the burning pile of debris and frantically started to remove it from the helpless individual. He appeared to be a teenager when I removed the debris from his body. When I got it all off, I noticed that he had a face that looked very familiar to me. However, I couldn’t remember where I’d first seen him or what his name was. There was just something about him. I finally got all of the debris off of his helpless body and heaved his body onto my shoulders. I then proceeded to run out of the burning building, getting this kid to the ambulance as fast as I possibly could. When I got this unknown kid onto the stretcher, he opened his eyes and looked at me with panicked eyes and frantically asked “Have you seen my mom??” It had then occurred to me that I hadn’t checked the rest of the building before getting this kid to the ambulance. Somewhere from behind me I heard another fireman yell “We got another one” then ran out to the ambulance beside me and set a middle-aged woman down on the stretcher. The paramedics began CPR on her and but a mask on to help her breathe but after what seemed like 3 hours, they pronounced her dead. I came to the conclusion that the woman was the mother or big sister of this teenager that I rescued from the burning house.
I walked into the firehouse the next day exhausted just like I am every time we have late calls. I then proceeded to walk to the chief’s office to follow up with the survivor of last night. Chief told me that the kid that I rescued was in the hospital and that he’s doing tremendously better than the doctors thought he would. Chief told me what hospital he was in so I went to visit him. As I neared the hospital, I began to feel an uneasy feeling in my stomach. The strange resemblance this kid had to someone that I had met before was still puzzling to me. I walked into the hospital and found this kids room. Once I got up there, I noticed that he was awake so I walked into his room and introduced myself. “Hi, my name is Ada-“ I was then cut off by the kid. “Adam Syms, yeah I know who you are,” he said, leaving me surprised “thanks for saving me last night but you didn’t get to my mom. I would’ve much rather had you save my mom than me.” Answering my question of the other victim in the house being his mother, I said back to him “I’m sorry but I don’t get to just pick and choose who I save and who I don’t save, I saw you first so you were the first person I helped. What is your name?” I asked him. “Cooper, and I’m your son.”
My son? I thought to myself as I paced around my house. I sat down on my bed, feeling a bit dizzy from the news that was just delivered to me. This isn’t possible, no way is this possible. It then hit me: Barbados. 1998. Long story short, a big group of my senior class decided it would be fun to take a big senior trip for our last Spring Break together. Sara Styles, one of the prettiest girls in our class, went on that trip. It then hit me again: Chief said something about the woman dying in the house, and her name was Sara. Everything these past few hours had been one big blur. Nothing at this point made sense.
Several weeks after this encounter with my ‘son’ I found myself driving to god knows where at 4:12 a.m. Suddenly, my car came to a slow stop. I tried to start it over and over again. Nothing. Noticing a brick post to the right of my car, I got out to see what it was. At the top, it read Edgewater Cemetery. Knowing that my car wouldn’t start, I thought it was a good idea to take a walk through the cemetery. I noticed a kid sitting in front of a rather small tombstone. As I neared him, he turned around and it was Cooper. He shot me a glare of disproval, rolled his eyes, and turned back around. “That was an inviting look. Thanks, I guess I’ll have a seat next to you.” As I sat down, I noticed the name on the tombstone, Sara Styles. He was visiting his mom. He then proceeded to ignore me for the next 20 minutes and finally spilled his feelings out like a glass of spilled milk. He told me about his whole childhood. Then he told me about how hard it was growing up without a dad. I felt guilty as he was saying this, but also not too guilty due to the fact that I didn’t know he even existed until a couple weeks ago. I explained to him that I didn’t even know about him or his mom. I told him that I would’ve been there for him in a heartbeat if I would’ve known about him. We talked about the events that would follow all of this unexpectedness. After our talk, we got in my car and went to pick all of his belongings up. We then went to my house and moved all of his stuff in. I decided from that day on that I would be the best dad I possibly could to my son, Cooper.
INEVITIBILITY
Haley Ziolkowski
I walked into class, unprepared as always, on Monday morning and sat by my friend Derek. Now, I was unprepared for several reasons. First, because my mother didn’t wake me up on time so I was running 15 minutes late. Second, I went to pick out my outfit for the day and I noticed that absolutely none of my clothes were clean. Finally, I found clothes and went downstairs to eat breakfast because you know, it’s the most important meal of the day. By the time I got downstairs to eat it was already 15 minutes past the time that I regularly leave.
Now as I was saying, I walked into class late and sat down. I glanced up, noticing that my teacher had written something on the board. “All things happen for a reason.” Being an English teacher and knowing how argumentative children in high school are, I came to the conclusion that my teacher wrote this for a reason. However, it got my mind going. The first thought that came to my mind was inevitability. I turned to my friend Derek and asked “what do you know about inevitability?” Still looking at the board, he whispered “One thing comes to my mind, I read this book once on inevitability and there’s one quote that has stuck with me since reading it.” He then took out a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote Without change there is no innovation, creativity, or incentive for improvement. Those who initiate change will have a better opportunity to manage the change that is inevitable (William Pollard). I thought about it for a moment and was in a state of denial. You cannot manage the change that is inevitable, I thought to myself.
Just then, my teacher walked in the room and recited the morning routine: How was your weekend? What did you do? I bet you’re all so excited to be back in school! Then smiled really big. I couldn’t ever figure out if she was oblivious to our hatred for school or was being sarcastic. Nevertheless, her questions made everybody in the class groan like always. Mrs. Kreiling walked over to the white board and wrote one simple word: inevitability. Ironically, I knew exactly what to write.
I removed a piece of paper from my notebook, thought for a second, and started writing.
There are physical things that I fear on this Earth and there are mental things that I fear even more. One of the scariest mental aspects, in my opinion, is inevitability. Inevitability is defined as “certain to happen; unavoidable” and after thinking about the definition and what follows inevitable outcomes, I was intrigued yet terrified. Intrigued for many reasons, and terrified for many more. You go through life thinking that you have a hold on the reigns but think about it: do you really? I believe that the answer to this question is no because no matter what you think you have control of, the outcome will be the same. At this point you’re probably wondering what ‘the outcome’ actually is. It might be death, it might be life beyond death, failing your English paper or even passing your English paper. You never know what the situation will actually be and that’s the terrifying part.
I put my pencil down and thought about examples of inevitability. I began to write again:
Death. Dying is inevitable
and everyone knows that. Some people go through life waiting for the inevitable, slacking around, contributing absolutely nothing to society. These people find no purpose in life, causing them to not care about when the end is for them. Contrary to those people, you have the ‘determined’ human beings. Instead of moping around and remaining sullen all their lives, there are people that know the inevitable. Some people know that inevitable outcomes are real and will happen sooner than later. These people make the most out of their lives here on this God forsaken planet. They do what they love the most. For example, one of my really good friends died doing what he loved the most and that is an amazing concept to me. Yes, inevitable outcomes are bound to happen, that’s why they’re inevitable, but you can do so much to avoid terrible inevitability.
Once again I put my pencil down and thought about what I had just written, thinking back to the quote from the book that Derek had read.” Without change there is no innovation, creativity, or incentive for improvement. Those who initiate change will have a better opportunity to manage the change that is inevitable” (William Pollard). After thinking about it, I changed my mindset. “You know, inevitability isn’t so scary after all.” Everyone in the class swiveled in their desks to stare at me. I looked up and asked “Did I just say that out loud?” The whole class started laughing. I glanced at Mrs. Kreiling and she was looking at me, also laughing. Alright, I thought to myself, that’s probably enough for today.
Cinderella: Revised
Haley Ziolkowski
Before Cinderella’s father died, he spoiled her rotten. He spoiled her more rotten than a banana being left in the cabinet for 3 weeks. While all of this spoiling was going on, he paid zero attention to me. I was always the bad guy for trying to correct Cinderella’s hellish ways. I was only trying to be the mother she did not hace. All the while, my two daughters and I were paid no attention to, and the attention that was paid to us was negative because one of us was always ‘doing something wrong.’ I thought this was very unfair. We did nothing to be treated like this so when Cinderella’s father died, it was time to straighten her attitude back up.
I didn’t know how to even begin cleaning her father’s mess up so I started with chore, lots and lots of chores. I didn’t know how else to teach her how to be in the real world on her own because obviously her father didn’t properly teach her. I made a list of chores for Cinderella to do day and night. However, I didn’t make my two daughters do any chores due to their treatment from Cinderella’s father. Obviously Cinderella didn’t think this was fair, but she was going to have to deal with it. I told my daughters to be stern and strict with Cinderella, as would I. I explained to them that this is the best mechanism for us to use in teaching Cinderella how the real world actually is. At first they didn’t think it was fair, they thought that it wasn’t fair to Cinderealla, they felt very sympathetic for her. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard for me at first too. However, I knew that this was the only way for Cinderella to actually survive out on her own.
Days, weeks, months passed by and Cinderella continued to do her chores like always. I just didn’t feel as if this was an effective procedure. She still had a bad attitude towards me and my daughters all the time. Something more drastic had to take place. Suddenly there was a knock at our front door. We rarely got visitors so this was a surprise. I yelled for Cinderella to get the door, and Anastasia and Drizella followed. After they opened the door, I could hear an older man saying something so I got up and accompanied them at the door. “Hello,” he said “I am the messenger for the royal family and they have sent me to give you an invitation for the royal ball that is taking place in a couple of days.” He then handed us the invitation he was speaking of. The girls were ecstatic, and by girls I mean all three of them. However, something told me that this might be the thing that Cinderella needed to get her act together. I deemed it necessary for her to skip this ball. Besides, maybe one of the girls would get a chance to be something more to the prince.
The next morning the girls wanted me to take them into town to buy fabric and make dresses for the royal ball. I agreed and we headed to town. When we arrived back home, Cinderella was acting abnormally joyful and happy. She was dancing around the house singing songs and smiling. She doesn’t usually act like this so it was a little unusual. “Why are you so happy?” I asked Cinderella. She went on explaining how she was so happy to go to the ball. “No, you’re not going to the ball. You have too many chores to do.” I said to her. She stopped dancing, “excuse me?” she asked. “Yeah, you heard me. You’re not allowed to go to the ball. You’ll have too many chores to do and they have to be done.” Cinderella ran away, hysterically crying. I didn’t feel sorry for her one bit. I ran to Drizella and Ana’s room and told them to rip Cinderella’s dress to shreds. They agreed, knowing that they might have a chance with the king’s son if Cinderella wasn’t attending.
The next night was the night of the ball. Ana and Drizella looked beautiful as always in their ball gowns. Before they left for the ball I made them make sure that Cinderella was still in the basement scrubbing the floors. They told me she was so I wasn’t worried. I had no doubts that she would leave the basement. Because of this confidence I had, I went to bed, tired from making the girls’ dresses and keeping a close eye on Cinderella all day. However, I should not have had this sudden surge of confidence for when I woke up at 11 p.m. to get a drink of water, Cinderella was gone.
I knew she would go to the ball! She deliberately ignored my orders. I decided that the only thing to do was to stay up and wait until she got home so I could deliver her repercussions. She arrived home at 11:59 p.m. I had a lot of time to think about her punishment so I came to the conclusion of her staying home for the next 6 months, doing nothing but chores. I then sent her to her room.
The next morning there was a knock on the door. I answered it and there was a man dressed in royal attire holding something in a silk bag on a pillow. “Hello?” I said to him. “Good morning, madame, I am from the royal palace. The prince sent me to find the young lady that owns this glass slipper.” He then took a beautiful glass slipper out of the silk bag and asked if I had any daughters. “Yes!” I exclaimed. “I happen to have 2 of them.” I invited him inside and called for Anastasia and Drizella to come downstairs to greet this kind man. Ana sat down first and sadly, it did not match. Next, Drizella sat down and again, it didn’t fit. Suddenly, Cinderella came up from the basement to get some cleaning supplies. “Miss!” the servant shouted to Cinderella. Cinderella turned around quickly and asked “Yes?” “Did you attend the royal ball last night?” he asked her. Oh no.. I thought to myself. “No! She actually wasn’t able to attend. Sorry for the inconvenience! I hope you have better luck somewhere else!” “Wait!” Cinderella exclaimed to the servant. “She’s lying. I was at the ball last night.” I was livid. How could she do this? Cinderella sat down in the chair and the servant slowly slipped the slipper on her foot and it was a perfect fit. His mouth dropped open along with everyone else’s mouths’ in the room. I couldn’t believe it. The prince hurriedly tucked the slipper away and left with Cinderella. Right before she walked out the door, she turned around and blew kisses to Drizella, Anastasia, and myself. I couldn’t believe her. I was just glad that she was gone.
I Believe in the Power of Kindness
Autumn Clark
I was 8 years old when I learned the nature of human kindness. I was only a second grader when I learned how people can band together and work toward a common goal. I didn’t even know basic algebra before I’d already had my biggest lesson in the strength and power behind humans once united.
I was at my babysitter’s on the evening of December 16, 2005, eagerly waiting to go home to a quiet house. Then the phone rang. My sitter answered the phone as per the normal, but the atmosphere change instantly and my babysitter hung up the phone quickly, pale and shaking. Something was very wrong. And then she called me into the kitchen, and I started crying before I even knew what wa
s going on.
“Your mom has been in a really bad car wreck, Autumn,” she said, kneeling down to look me in the face. “Your daddy will be here to get you soon. But, for right now, why don’t we go into the living room and pray. Your mom is going to be just fine. The good Lord will take care of her, I promise.” And so we went and sat in the living room, holding hands with kids of all ages, crying and praying together until my dad was in the doorway.
On the scene, a paramedic approached my dad and me as we stood on the highway, staring at the wreckage. The paramedic knelt down and placed his hands on my shoulders. He pointed towards my mom’s black blazer and said, “You see that red spot of hair right there?” I nodded, trying to wipe my tears and look brave. “That’s your momma, and she’s going to be just fine. We’re taking really good care of her.” He squeezed my shoulder and gave me a gentle, encouraging smile.
The few months after that night were Hell, to put it bluntly. My mom had 11 broken bones, most of them in her legs, and there were promises from her doctors that she’d never walk again. She was hospitalized for nearly a month and all the money that had been put away for my Christmas presents was spent on her recovery. But that Christmas was more special than any other Christmas; the doctors let her out of the hospital for a few hours to come spend Christmas at home. I had never been more thankful than I was that Christmas afternoon, sitting on my living room floor, watching my mother open her presents in her hospital gown.
When she came home, life was difficult. My dad had so much on his plate, he became Superman, but he wasn’t alone. People stopped by almost every day. Aunts and uncles, family friends, my teachers, my mom’s coworkers, firemen and police officers, my classmates and their parents, and members from churches I had never even heard showed up on my porch that year. They brought us casseroles and pineapple upside down cakes, chocolate chip cookies and pots of soup, baked chicken breasts and every kind of pie you could imagine. We would come home to a plowed driveway or a salted sidewalk or a mowed lawn and have no idea who did it. When my dad was building handicap ramps all over the house, the whole town of Burnettsville turned up, offering to hammer that nail or lay that board. The cards and letters didn’t stop for a year. People brought us crossword books and jigsaw puzzles and novels, but the best things they brought us were smiles, hugs, and a sense of community.
I learned more in those 4 months about human nature than I had in all my 8 years before hand. People are innately kind. You don’t know how wonderful other humans are until you must lean on them for support. The tight grip of my babysitter’s hand as she prayed, the compassion in the tone of that paramedic, the thoughtfulness of the doctors who granted my family a real Christmas, and the random acts of kindness from strangers every single day for months will stay with me for the rest of my life. Many people choose to focus on all that bad people do nowadays. It’s become a popular opinion that humans are growing more and more evil by the day. You see headlines and stories about school shootings and terrorist bombings and double homicides, but to completely understand these stories, you must also see the teachers that shield students from bullets, the paramedics who jump into burning wreckage and the communities who cry at candlelight vigils. There are far more people who give all they have to make the world a better place than there are who do the opposite, and that’s what humanity is really about. When somebody needs your help, no matter how tired, hungry, or poor you may be, you give them your last smile, your last slice of bread, or your last dime because that’s what you’re supposed to do. When everything is going wrong, you do all you can to help make it right. We humans are a beautiful, compassionate, kind species and this I believe.
By Sam Craig:
Thick, thick is the air
Sliding sickly over your skin
Flicker goes the light
And so the trembles begin
Piqued is your interest
Though cynical this looks
Perhaps if you moved forward
The light would wait for you
Closer, closer the walls feel
Surrounding you on either side
Uncertain and a little afraid
But I promise you they do not bite
So come, come and go to the end
To the place where
The hallway ends
Take Me with You by Maggie Milligan:
Wash over me.
Drown my bitter memories.
Sweep away my sorrows and guilt.
Leave me with a shining slate.
Take my confusion.
Take my painful thoughts.
Drown them in amber waves.
Let them be crushed and long forgot.
Burn away my sadness.
Take my abnormalities.
Wash the differences from my tongue.
Blur the lines that stain my love.
The light will always fade.
At the end of all days,
Sink my sins.
Beneath the old, black tide.
Drown my confusion.
Asphyxiate my guilt.
Spare me all my bitter pain.
Take the unknowns in ripples.
Take my secrets.
Take my pride.
Take me with them, if you must.
There’s nowhere else to hide.
Drown my love.
Dissolve what may.
Let the ghost that haunt me,
Sink beneath the waves.
Modern History
Max Crawford
I’m strolling down a sidewalk,
Seeing pigeons who are starting to mass,
Around the carriages drawn by a horse who have stopped their walk.
The horses can see their reflection off the cars’ glass,
As the rain goes drip.
I try not to trip.
For seeing our past,
Makes me dream oh so fast.
Of a time where we can all,
Live from winter to fall,
Remembering to find,
Our history in modern times.
By Ben Getz:
We all become emotionally troubled.
Our difference is in how we take it.
Some push themselves far away,
Much like a cabin deep in the woods,
Full of life while the inside inhabitants are satisfied,
But what happens when those usual creatures can’t last on their own?
They find themselves far from help, nobody to turn to,
Without comfort, without life.
The cabin is then without life.
Forgotten is the structure once used to protect.
You must care for and satisfy your creatures,
For without them you become an empty carcass on its own.
