The Summit of Courage by Sean G.

The adrenalin was flowing through my body as I awoke at 4:00 a.m. and reached over to awaken the rest of my six-member expedition team. In one short hour, we would begin the final leg of our ascent of Mt. Everest, the world’s tallest and most formidable peak. It would take another seventeen grueling hours to climb the final 5,000 feet to plant the United States flag atop the 29,028-foot summit. The only communication throughout our ascent was with a team located 15,000 feet up the mountain who would relay information to us as we battled the elements and confronted the challenging terrain.

We gathered at the edge of our camp and set out ten minutes ahead of schedule. I placed my oxygen mask up to my face and began the climb. The first 400 feet were easy, but the next section was notoriously dangerous. There was a 3,000-foot vertical drop below the rock face. This area was the most widely known spot in the world for climbs that turned for the worst.

I trudged along leading our team to the base of the ledge. Despite being an expert climber, my palms were sweating and my hands were shaking as we approached this area. For safety reasons, we decided to ascend this section together. Being the leader, I was the first to climb the ladder that was already attached to the face along with safety cables and pulleys. Twenty-five exhausting minutes later, I reached the top and waited for the rest of my team. I sat upright, excitedly waiting for the next climber to peek above the ledge and join me. After approximately five minutes, my intuition told me something was wrong because no one else was in sight. I peered cautiously down the rocky ledge to see what happened.

To my amazement, I saw that the ladder had cracked about two-thirds of the way up and was beginning to be covered in a thin sheet of ice that would be treacherous for the climbers. My team was stranded. If the ladder snapped into two, only two safety cords would suspend the climbers. I yelled down the ledge telling my friends to hold on tightly and that I would have help on its way soon. I could tell they were panicking, but if my life was in danger I would be nervous too. I needed to act quickly. I could not bear to watch my friends hang onto life by two small pieces of rope. I attempted to use my radio to contact Russell, our go-to person back at camp, but it was to no avail. The radio would not work. I was in a terrible situation. My only option was to go back to camp for help, but I had no route down the ledge because I could not use the ladder. If I waited, we would have all died of oxygen deprivation eventually.

I had no choice but to use pegs I carried in my backpack and scale the rock face with no safety equipment. One slip and I would have died along with my friends who I would have left stranded on the mountain. I cautiously began my descent. I drove each peg carefully into the rock to make sure everything was solid to keep my footing. About halfway down, my left foot slipped and I felt a sudden jolt of fear ripple through my body. Knowing that there was a short way to go, I regained my composure and maintained my focus. As my feet finally touched the ground, I felt a wave of relief. I made it. Now I had to make the jaunt back to camp to have my team rescued.

I told Russell that the ladder cracked at the first ledge on the way to the summit and the rest of the team was stuck on the ladder. Having been in similar emergency situations, Russell summoned a helicopter rescue team. I could only hope and pray that my team members would survive. As thirty minutes passed, my thoughts were nervously racing as I awaited the fate of my friends. Russell finally received word and approached me with an apprehensive look. In his soft and controlling manner, Russell said that although the rescue was challenging, it was successful. He told me the entire story with all of the details about how the helicopter lowered itself next to the icy mountain and used a basket and pulley to rescue the stranded climbers. I was so relieved. I had feared the worst. My team members were saved! I realized that my natural instincts and courage helped to save other human lives.

Morty's Adventure by Rachel L.

Morty was a young elephant with a happy life. He and his mother Sheila lived in a herd of elephants in the Kalachi plains, where there was always peace and happiness. However, one day Sheila became very ill.

Morty was devastated, so one night he approached the elders. “Why is my mom so sick? She’s always been healthy before.”

“She has an unknown sickness,” they told him. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do.”
However, one elder named Leera pulled Morty aside.

“I know of something you can do, young Morty,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s slightly dangerous, but it’ll be worth it.”

Morty leaned in closer to hear what Leera had to say.
“Later, when everyone is asleep, you must travel to the Wardaf plains. There is a herd of elephants there that possess a special herb that will cure your mother.”
“But why would they give the herbs to me?” Morty asked.
Leera smiled. “Talk to the herd leader, and I’m sure he will help you.”

Morty was slightly confused, but he knew he must get the herbs to save his mother. A few hours later when the whole herd was silent, Morty hugged his sleeping mother good-bye and began his journey.

The Wardaf plains were near the Kalachi plains, but it was a hot, tiresome trip. Morty had to look hard to find food and water. Finally, after two long days, he reached the Wardaf plains. He saw some elephants talking amongst each other.

“Excuse me, where can I find your herd leader?” he asked meekly.
All heads turned and looked at him, and Morty felt very small and helpless.
One elephant spoke up. “I’m the herd leader. What brings you to our lands?”
“I…I’m here from the Kalachi plains,” Morty stammered. “One of our elders sent me here to get herbs for my mom because she’s sick. Please help me.”

The leader looked closely at Morty. “You say you come from the Kalachi plains. What is your mother’s name?”

“Sheila.”
The leader smiled. “Come take a walk with me, Morty.”
Morty was amazed. “How do you know my name?”
“It’s a long story. Come, and I’ll tell you,” the leader replied.
The two of them walked far away from the other elephants before he spoke.
“My name is Faulkner, and I am your father,” he said slowly.
“You’re my father? But how?” Morty inquired

Faulkner cleared his throat before continuing. “Back when my father was still herd leader, I went on a tour of the neighboring plains. Seeing as I was next in line for leader, I wanted to become acquainted with other herds. When I came to your herd, I instantly fell in love with Sheila, and she with me. However, it is against the law of elephant to have a relationship outside of ones herd, so we kept everything a secret. But when Sheila became pregnant, we knew we could no longer hide the truth.

My father ordered me to return home, and Sheila was kicked out of her herd. She came to me one night for help. We went into hiding until your birth, at which we named you Morty. Only a few days later, I found out that my father had died, and I knew I had to take up the position as herd leader. I made the hardest decision of my life and left you and your mother for my herd. To make sure you two would be safe, I contacted your herd leader to see if he would let you back in. He would not allow it, but an elder named Leera finally convinced him.”

Morty was overjoyed. “I can’t believe I have a father!” But wait, do you have the herbs I need for my mother? I don’t know how much longer she has.”

“Yes, I do. And while I’m unable to leave my herd, I encourage you and Sheila to visit me as often as you’d like,” said Faulkner.

“Thank you so much. Of course we’ll come see you.”

Faulkner got the herbs for Morty and fastened them securely to his back. They said good-bye to each other and Morty set off for home. The two-day journey seemed much shorter this time, and when Morty got home he gave the herbs to his mother. Within no time she was better, and Morty told her of how he met his father. The two of them lived happily ever after.

Best Friends Versus Boys by Abbey L.

My three best friends and I decided to go bowling that night. It was the night that I met Evan. While my friends and I were bowling, a group of guys was watching us and making sexual comments toward us. Kendall decided to go along with it.

“Hey boys, I’m Kendall, this is Christel, Marybeth and Maddy.” Kendall said as the rest of us blushed.
“Hey, these are my boys Evan, Joe, Jordan, and I’m Kevin.” They all waved.

I remember this night perfectly. We all got to talking and I was extremely attracted to Evan. We all decided to hang out after bowling, so we went to my house. It was only our junior year at Cambridge high, the boys were already seniors at the high school a town away from us. The guys were nice and seemed to be good kids. We all chilled for the night at my house just watching a movie and talking about our lives.

The boys seemed to be the same as us girls. The three girls and I have been best friends since little kids and apparently the boys have to. We all grew up next to each other meaning every last second of our childhood together we were never apart. We have been through everything together and it seemed as though the boys were in the same situation. They had all gone to the same preschool and ever since have spent every waking hour together.

“Christel, do you mind if we drink here?” Kevin asked.
Here it came, I knew this would happen some time but I wasn’t expecting it to be tonight.
“Uhh… no go ahead, my parents shouldn’t be home for an hour or two.” I wasn’t going to act like a little kid and say no. We just met these boys and they were seniors I couldn’t ruin it for everyone.

One thing led to another, and soon enough we were all drinking. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I just got a little dizzy, but the night was fun. They boys left and we got their numbers so we could stay in touch.

Evan and I got really close over a month or so. I started to hang out with the guys a lot more then the girls. It was almost like I was drifting off into another world. Drinking became a common thing and pretty soon drugs started to come into the picture. I didn’t know who I was anymore, I was doing things that I never imagined of. It was almost an obsession of hanging out with the guys and being with Evan. I felt like it was a necessity or else Id lose Evan forever. I had fun with the boys, we would do crazy things and I loved it. I wasn’t the innocent girl anymore, I did what I wanted and I didn’t care what anybody thought.

Evan and I were officially boyfriend and girlfriend. I loved it, I didn’t want anything to change. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to turn into the girl I was becoming though. I was becoming a person I never thought I would turn out to be. I always told myself that I wouldn’t get into drugs or smoking. I knew I would eventually start drinking but I thought I would be with my three best friends and having the time of our lives. Instead I was with four guys getting high all the time.
My life became what I knew it would be, I was never home, I never talked to the girls, I barely talked to my parents because I was afraid I’d get caught doing something wrong. I didn’t want anybody knowing that I was like this. I thought that it was embarrassing. I started to lie to my parents about what I was doing at night. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen, my family and I have always been extremely close to them and I used to tell them everything. Now everything was a secret not only between my family and I but between my best friends also.

One night Evan and I went out with his friends to a big party. It was New Years Eve and I was excited for the night to start. Finally a new year would begin and maybe I could start off the way I wanted my life to be like for the rest of my junior year. Evan was planning on getting really high and drunk tonight and I was kind of nervous. I didn’t want to get wicked messed up, I was sick of it. But it was also New Years Eve and I didn’t want to look like a loser and be the only one who wasn’t drinking. By the end of the night of course I was drunk, I knew it was going to happen even if I didn’t want it to.

I don’t remember anything that had happened that night until I woke up in the hospital the next night. Apparently I had alcohol poisoning and along with that I also over dosed on drugs. I felt so disgusting when I woke up, all I wanted to do was puke everywhere. I was informed that I passed out puking everywhere. Nobody knew what to do, they started to shove bread in my mouth and didn’t know how to wake me up. They put me in the shower and turned the water on cold. Nothing happened. Evan brought me to the hospital and I guess he was really worried about me.

I eventually broke up with Evan because he was the one that turned me into this person. I hated it and after this all happened I had to stop because I couldn’t go on with my life being like this. I tried to get my friends back but it took them a while to forgive me. I tried saying sorry and explaining everything to them but they were afraid to take me back. They thought I might ditch them again for another guy, but I promised them I would never leave them again.

My life was finally back to normal when everyone accepted my apology and I was totally sober again. I realized what a stupid mistake I had made and that year of my life was erased forever hopefully. That one year changed my life completely. I experienced myself what could happen when drugs and alcohol get involved in a persons life. My parents never looked at me the same. I was ashamed of myself and I am glad that I fixed the way I was now, instead of later in my life where I could have been worse.

Free At Last By Nora M.

Dear Diary,
Do you ever wish you could just get away from it all? You know just escape for a while. I know I sure do.
Love, Ryan

Most reading this would wonder how Ryan Preston could ever be wishing to get away. I mean besides the fact that she’s a blonde haired, blue-eyed bombshell and the object of every guy’s affection. She’s also head cheerleader, student council president and among the top five in her class. Yes it sounds too good to be true, but all you have to do is travel to Ackerly, Texas and you’ll find her.

Ackerly is a very small town in Texas. The people in this town like to talk and gossip and know everything about everyone, but what more can toy expect from small towns. Well for the most part everyone did know everything about everyone, but that’s only for the most part. There are however a few secrets.

Ryan says she hates the small town life and is getting out of here as soon as high schools over. The truth is she’s afraid her secret might get out and people will look at her different. Because for now she’ fine being seen as the perfect girl with the perfect family, even though that’s far from the truth. I mean she is a great girl, very genuine and a great friend, but perfect family is stretching it. She goes home to a shabby one-story house. And her family, well both of her parents are alcoholics and her dad abuses her pretty bad. She would never tell anyone that though. She keeps her home life to herself, not even her boyfriend Brad knows about it. At school she may come off as perfect and happy but inside she’s really insecure. See she’s not succeeding in school and what not for her parents; she’s doing it for her, so she can feel good. Sometimes she feels self-confident but then she arrives home to two people telling her how worthless she is and it all goes away. The only thing she really confides in is her diary.

Dear Diary,
Today was pretty bad at home. Dad left me with a huge cut on my forehead that no make-up could cover and a huge bruise on my back. I don’t know how I’m going to cover this one up. Maybe I can’t. I mean I’ve always wished that I could just tell someone and make this all go away but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t even know what I did this time though, I mean sometimes I do deserve it I bet, but this time I don’t know. I really can’t wait to leave this place. Only a few more weeks of high school and I will finally be free. Wow it’s really weird to even think about.
Love, Ryan.

The next day at school people questioned her all day. “Oh my gosh! What happened to your head?” they’d ask. “Oh nothing you know just a cheerleading incident, it’s fine, really.” She would lie to them. But Brad didn’t buy it because he knew something was off so he really pressed her for information.
“Babe what happened, come on I know this wasn’t cheerleading” Brad asked. He had been suspicious for a while now, always seeing her with random cuts and bruises.
“Its nothing, I swear” she replied.
“No it is something, come on Ryan don’t lie to me like this.”
“Brad I’m not lying so stop asking!”

He could see that she was getting defensive and he knew it was something more. He tried to grab her arm but she pulled away and stormed off to class. Brad knew he had to do something.

The whole day at school Ryan thought about her argument with Brad. She really should tell him I mean she loved him, they were supposed to tell each other everything. Maybe she’d call him later tonight.

Brad was leaving school and was thinking about Ryann. He decided just to go over there and talk with her about it. Maybe he was being overly worried and it was just cheerleading. So he decided to stop by her place. He realized as he was going over he’d never met her parents, they were never home when he was there. He pulled in the driveway and got out and rang the bell. A tall, dark haired man answered the door. “What the hell do you want?” he asked. Brad noticed the bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“I am here to see Ryan”
“Who are you?”
“I’m her boyfriend, Brad”
“Boyfriend? No Ryan a’int have no boyfriend, she has no friends because she’s a loser”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me; she’s a worthless loser, never’ll amount to anythin”
Brad couldn’t believe what he was hearing; I mean did they know the same Ryan.
Just then Ryan came out into the kitchen.
“Oh my god Brad what are you doing here?”
“I came to see how you were; I mean you didn’t look to well in school, with that cut and everything.”
Ryan cringed at the look on her fathers face when he said that. Her father always threatened that if she told on him she would pay for it. He looked absolutely furious.
“Ryan’s fine! She’s just a little baby, always complaining and doing something wrong and well she really screwed up this time, so you can see yourself out boy.”
Brad then realized that all those random cuts and bruises were from her father, he abuses her.
“No I’m not leaving without Ryan”
“No Brad Go now! I’m fine I promise,” she yelled, as her father was getting more irate by the minute.
“No Ryan this isn’t right, come with me now!”
“Brad just leave, and promise me you won’t say anything!”

Before Brad could say another word Ryan’s father was literally throwing him out the door. He landed hard on the ground and ran to his truck. He had to help her. What could he do though? The only thing he could think of was going home and telling his mom and having her call DSS or something. But then he thoughts of what she said; “don’t tell anyone I’ll be fine. Maybe she would be fine he thought. He really didn’t want to betray her, but what if she needs help? Brad was panicking the whole way home. He decided to just go home, go to bed and talk to her in school the next day.

Ryan wasn’t in school the next day. Brad was worried, really worried, maybe he should have done something. He rushed right over to her house after school and couldn’t believe his eyes. There were police cars and caution tape everywhere. No, this cannot be happening this is a joke he thought. He ran right up but was stopped by a police officer.
“Whoa where do you think your going son”?
“I need to get in there and see my girlfriend Ryan”
“Oh boy… I’m very sorry to tell you, but…uh…well your girlfriend was killed last night by her father, im sorry you had to find out like this.”

Brad couldn’t even manage to speak he just fell to the ground sobbing. This was his fault he thought, all of it, everything was his fault. All he had to do was call the police or DSS but no, he had to wait until school. Some officers called his mom helped Brad up. All of it was a blur to him though; he was in a state of shock.

The next day when he was a little better, his mom came in with something in her hand.
“After the police took Ryan’s dad to jail, and her mom was no where to be found, they went through her things. They thought you might want to have this.” She said as she handed him a small purple notebook, it looked like a diary.

His mom left him alone and he began to look through the pages, until he came to the last entry, which was dated the day she died.

Dear Diary,
Just as expected I was questioned about the cut. My excuse this time was cheerleading incident. Clever huh? Well Brad didn’t buy it and finally what I was afraid of all along was coming true-he was pressing me on what was really going on. I really wanted to tell him, I really did but I couldn’t do it. I just can’t tell people about this part of my life. Well Brad was questioning me I got defensive and stormed off. But now I wish I told him- I need help, I need to get away from home and be free. I just need to get away from here.
Love, Ryan.

The next few days were tough, being as they were the days of Ryan’s wake and funeral. Brad was a wreck but he insisted he speak at the funeral anyways.

“Well as some of you may know, I was dating Ryan Preston. We all knew her as the fun, sweet, loveable girl. But we didn’t know all she was hiding at home. She was a strong girl to go through all that and put on a happy face everyday. I just wish I would have done something when I had the chance. But in a way it all worked out for Ryan, all she really wanted in life was to get away, and be free at last. So I think we owe it to Ryan to be happy for her because she got her wish, she’s free now, finally.”

An Unlikely Meeting by Jeff M.

Vincent left work early to get a new suit for his cousin’s wedding. The only store where he could find any suit within his price range was Carter’s House of Style. As he entered he was greeted by a young well groomed man named Rick. When Vincent described the suit he wanted to Rick pondered for a second then began to lead him down a very narrow aisle. As Vincent followed him he took notice that Rick dragged his left leg as he walked. As Vincent finished his purchase he struck up a conversation with Rick. As they got to know each other better Vincent then felt at ease enough to invite Rick out for a night on the town.

That evening Vincent pulled up to a decent sized house in a very nice neighborhood and honked the horn three times. After four minutes Rick dressed in a collared shirt and gelled hair came outside and got in the car with Vincent. When Rick asked Vincent where they were going he told Rick it as a surprise and he would find out soon enough. As Vincent began driving he started to feel disoriented from the three joints he smoked before he left his apartment. Ten minutes later they arrived at a gentlemen’s club called The Iron Camel. Rick was very surprised by this place considering the fact that he thought he and Vincent were going on a date.

As they entered the club they took notice it was full of cigar smoke and neon lights. Rick and Vincent sat down and were met by a very seductive lady who called herself Natasha. Rick was very intimidated by her fiery red hair. He began to feel uncomfortable fairly quickly and went outside to have a cigarette. After a half hour Vincent exited the club and asked him what was wrong. Rick lied and said he was not feeling well and asked if Vincent would take him home. Vincent concurred that he felt tired and went inside to get his keys.

After 20 minutes Rick heard a loud noise from inside and quickly ran in. Rick fought his way in against the crowds of people running out and saw a large man slung over the bar unconscious bleeding a little from his forehead and the red headed girl he met over him her hands stained with a crimson glaze. Rick glanced around quickly and saw no sign of Vincent anywhere. As he made his way around the bar counter he saw Vincent lying on the floor with a broken bottle lying in his chest. When Rick made eye contact with Natasha she ran outside quickly. Already hearing sirens on there way Rick knew Vincent would get the medical attention he needed; Rick grabbed Vincent’s car keys lying next to him and pursued the woman.

Rick left the club and saw Natasha get in to a small blue car and begin to drive off. Rick quickly hopped in Vincent’s 1978 Gremlin and followed her. As he drove behind her he could tell she knew he was following her by the way she made a u-turn quickly accelerated onto a dirt road crashing through a sign marked “No entrance, private property. Rick only being driven by intrigue and determination knew he would not stop chasing her until he found out what had happened.

He could almost know she was not familiar with his road by the way she drove crazily swerving on and of the dirt path. As the pursuit developed into a five minute chase Rick looked at the instrument panel and saw that he was almost out of gas and realized this chase couldn’t last much longer. When he finally got close to her Natasha came to a screeching halt with a deafening crash causing Rick to rear end her car. When he got out looking at this horrific accident he examined the driver’s seat an instantly could tell she didn’t survive colliding into the tree. Rick knew no amount of dismay would bring him any answers. He walked ahead into the darkness knowing that there were still secrets left hidden that were harder to see than the path that lay before him.

Dream by Taylor S.

The twilight sun showered a golden ray across the old man’s wrinkled skin as he watched a rusty car sputter and cough into his driveway. Almost before the car stopped, the passenger doors were thrown open and a young boy and girl rushed out.

“Grandpa! Grandpa!” the two kids squealed as they ran toward the porch where the old man was standing, their tiny feet treading across the loose stone path that led up to the house. They reached the old man and he embraced them in a warm hug. A couple waved from the car and honked as they drove away, the little girl blowing kisses and the boy waving furiously yelling, “Bye mommy and daddy!”

“Grandpa!” the little girl said as she tugged on her grandfather’s trousers. “Tell us a story!”

“Oh yes! Please, please, please tell us one grandpa. And make it one we haven’t heard before,” the boy begged.

The old man’s expression turned very solemn as he took his grandchildren’s hands in his own and led them over to the wooden swing that hung on one side of the porch. He lifted the little girl and placed her on one end of the swing, and the boy hopped up on the other end. The old man set down his weathered wooden cane at the base of a large flower pot before he took his place between them.

The children were confused as to why their grandfather did not begin telling the story at once. Instead, he had his eyes gently closed, his chin pointing toward the setting sun and his breaths in a steady, even pattern. The old man’s features looked even older and more worn than normal. His shaky leather hands were tucked into relaxed fists and lay on his legs. The usually shallow creases in his face looked like canyons and his hair was as white as newly fallen snow.

“Once upon a time…,” he started, but the boy interrupted him.

“Grandpa, I don’t wanna hear a dumb fairytale. Those are for girls.” The old man ignored the boy and repeated himself.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jimmy. He went to a school in Atlanta, Georgia, a long, long time ago, where he learned his sums and how to read and write. His favourite part of school though, was getting to play with the other boys and girls. They liked to play marbles, tag, and all other kinds of games together. But there was one kid, a boy named Marty, who never played with anyone. At recess, he liked to slowly walk around the playground, looking all around and pausing every once in a while. Sometimes he just sat in the grass and looked at the children using the swing set, watching as they soared higher and higher towards the sky. In class, he didn’t pay much attention, and our teacher always said to him ‘Marty, you need to get your head out of the clouds and into the books’. Then she would mumble to herself, ‘Yes, that boy is always dreamin’. Ain’t healthy. Won’t get hisself anywhere in this ‘ere world if he keeps it up’.”

At this part the old man paused. After a minute or two, he picked up the story again. “Marty wasn’t well liked by the other kids, so all throughout school he never had many friends. But that boy, that boy was always holding his head up high and somehow was smarter than all the other boys and girls. After he finished his schooling, he went off to college and we didn’t hear from him for a long time.”

The old man paused again, with the seeming intention of ending the story, but the little girl probed him. “What happened Grandpa? Please finish, I wanna hear what happens!” The old man gave a weak smile, and he ruffled her wind blown brunette hair.

“Then one day,” he said, “When Jimmy was much older and was raising a family, he turned on the TV after a hard day of work. That day was August 28, 1963, long before you two were born.” He gently beeped the children’s noses before continuing.

“And right there on TV, there was Marty, making a speech right in front of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC. He was talking about all his dreaming in front of a crowd of all kinds of people, and they were cheering at him. Our teacher had been wrong, he had made himself into a fine man with all his dreams. That boy used to walk down the street unnoticed and ignored and he grew into a man who was known worldwide. But if you saw this man today, you’d be looking into the eyes a ghost. The ghost of Martin Luther King, Jr.” By this time, the old man had been telling the story with a furious and grand momentum, and when he finished, silence dominated the air, muting the sounds of crickets composing their night symphony and the wind rushing through brambles and grass.

The girl looked down at her feet as he uttered the last words, and then she picked her head up. “Grandpa, is this story true?”

“As real as you and I. So dare to dream you two. Never be afraid of your dreams. They’ll take you higher than those swings.”

“Jimmy?!” an old lady yelled from a window inside the house. “You get those two children in here. I don’t care if it’s summer. Summer is almost over and it’s getting cold and dark!”

“Well, we better listen to grandma,” the old man laughed and pretended to shiver.

Once again, he took the two fragile hands within his own and led them into the house. The burnt sun had faded off the horizon, and the dim sky was beginning to grow stars. Before the little girl stepped over the threshold, she looked up at the starry sky. “Grandpa?” she asked. “I think dreams can take you over the stars too.”

All We Are Are Bones by Mic B.

I’ve been considered dead for longer than I can evoke. For more years than there are numbers to describe. Long enough to see the changes of the earth, the evolution and adaptation of all kinds. All I am, quite literally, is a pile of bones. I know no organs that one needs to stay alive. I know no brain to store knowledge that I retain. I have no blood to flow through veins and arteries that are not present within me. Yet I walk like the living, I learn and long like them. If the world were blind I would be one of them. But no, I am known as the Death Seeker. To them I long for death to come upon me and take away this misery I bear. But that is partially true and is a slight misconception. Yes I yearn for eternal darkness, Ill give them that. Yes I want life to be removed from my oppression because all I long for is love, and that’s a big enough burden alone. I have lived to see all the people I hold dear to me grow old, and I watched them lie on their deathbed wondering why it was their time to pass and not mine. Most of them loved me and I loved them back. But the love we shared was dull. It felt like an escape all except for one. Regardless, I want someone to be with. For better or for worst, in sickness and in health, in love and most of all in death.

God was never on my side. Never. I think of the whole worship as an obsession. I believe that He and his so called Christianity is to build up false hope. It shields our eyes from the truth and manipulates us to do what He wants of us. Plus the burden he grants me is unforgivable and could be the reason to my hostility. But when my mother died I would visit her tomb and say those cursed prayers just to ease her soul. As I watched time pass me by, my ageing lingered behind. I hid my true age to all, including myself so I could be accepted into the world. Soon I forgot my age all together and numbers meant nothing to me. I watched history change course, my loved ones die and my very own flesh rot of my bones. And not once was I blessed upon. Churches wouldn’t aid me, like they did with most cursed souls, because I was branded a heretic. It was foolish or me to seek help from them anyway. I was also ban from my community and forced to live reclusively in the mountains, on account of me being diseased. No one would alleviate my suffering. Many generations later I became what I appear to be now. I hide in shadows or under the ground. I’ve become a ghost, a myth, a fairytale. Some stories to have crossed my ears are that I walk the night in search of death, or in some flesh, I have even heard one of me in search of a heart. But all I want is the genuine love from another. Much like the love from Niveah, my last and forever will be.

I do admit she wasn’t all there; she performed witchcraft daily which was the reason for her execution. But aside from that she was beautiful. She loved nature and she loved to sing, she would start singing and the world would stop in its tracks. People envied her especially wives and the females of the town. But she was gentle and ever so sincere. Niveah changed my life forever, which is why I called upon her soul to bring her back to me once and for all.

I pulled myself up out of the ground carrying a burlap sack full of all the materials I needed for that special night. The earth was wet, making it easier for me to break free from its cold, harsh grasp. The moon was full and glaring, guiding me like a lantern. But I never use it, even in absolute darkness I could make my way to her grave.

I had buried her in a remote area underneath the large maple near the brook she was hanged at. I had paid the town to not burn her corpse so I could rescue her. Once they threw her in the water I retrieved her for her body burial.

Finally in the darkness I came to her. Her tomb stone corroded and engulfed in moss and earth making it difficult to make out the engraved name and date, but I knew it was hers. I felt the stone with my bony fingers as I always did. ‘Niveah G. Weston, 1743-1778’. I emptied my sack, setting up the lavender candles and incense, an old leather bound book of witchcraft and a lock of her long brown hair. I dipped the hair in the melted wax and recited the incantation “Reviving the Deceased”. As I sprinkled the strands of hair over the grave, there was a roar of thunder and a clap of lightning and rain started to fall from the sky. I chanted louder and louder trying to speak over the rain falling over my hollow skull. The earth trembled beneath me as the mound of dirt which covered Niveah grew. She was trying to break free. Faster I chanted. And finally, my love came back into this wretched world to be in it once more with me.

Her body was in no better condition than mine. The rain washed away the mud and the rest of whatever was decaying as we both embraced each other tightly. The memory of our previous lives came back to us and filled me up with feelings I can’t even describe with words. A feeling very few can even fathom. And to this very day, every moment with her is one that I wish to never end and I can say with confidence that it won’t.

Jamaican Dreamland by Sean M.

On a Thursday afternoon, Tikki’mon was reclining on his hammock practicing with his guitar in the company of his four band mates. The Jamaican artist was writing his newest song for an upcoming album. His outlook was positive for its debut the following week at the Bamboo Hut Bar. While the bass guitarist and drummer wasted their time arguing over lyrics, Tikki’mon and his steel drum player completed the song on their own. In the Jamaican heat, they celebrated the rest of their evening out on the town.

Tikki’mon got a call from the Sunset Café late that night. The café itself was in a beautiful outdoor location. After a short discussion, Tikki’mon hung up the phone before realizing that he had already booked a gig with the Bamboo Hut Bar. The Bamboo Hut Bar was located on the south side of Jamaica. The Bamboo Hut Bar paled in comparison to the prestige of the Sunset Café. Tikki’mon sat there puzzled about what he was going to do. He preferred to play at the Sunset Café but could not bring to disappoint the owner of the Bamboo Hut Bar.

The weather was predicted to be sunny with no showers. With weather conditions like that Tikki’mon did not want to give up a chance to have an outdoor gig at the Sunset café, yet he loved playing at the Bamboo Hut. The Bamboo Hut was very lively, and was jammed packed most nights of the week. Tikki’mon struggled with his own conscience as the night wore on. He thought about all of the different advantages and disadvantages with each place. Finally, after thinking for quite a while and talking it over with his band mates, Tikki'mon made a decision. The phone rang three times until an answer came on the other line. “Hello, Bamboo Hut Bar. How may I help you?” Answered Jamul, one of Tikki’mon’s close friends.

“Ay listen Jamul, I won’t be able to make my gig tomorra'. I got a spot at the Sunset Café and you know how much this means to me. It’s so hard to get into that place.”

“Hey Tikki, yah can’t just blow me off for another gig, mon. It’s just not right.”

“Man, I am so sorry, trust me I will make this up to you.”

“But who am I going to get to replace you. I mean you were on ‘moro, most good bands’re already booked.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone” replied Tikki’mon.

“Eva mon, I have to go. The boss is callin’ and he won’ be too happy about this.” Jamul hung the phone up with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

All Tikki’mon could do was prepare for his gig the next day and confirm with the Sunset Café.

It was Friday and Tikki’mon woke up to a windy morning. He was getting nervous about the weather although the news said it would be sunny. Sitting around his house, he began to worry over the conditions for his performance later that day. He didn’t think it was going to clear up. Rain was coming down hard now, and there was thunder and lightning. He knew there was no chance of performing in such harsh weather.

Tikki’mon was upset he had blown off his first gig to get the better one, and now his decision has backfired on him. So Tikki’mon and his band mate went to their favorite lunch spot to eat and talked about what they were going to do. They thought about how if it were still raining they would be cancelled at the Sunset Café. They would not know they were cancelled until they got to the Café. They came up with the idea of waiting an hour to make a decision. They called the Bamboo Hut to ask if there was a spot still open. Fortunately, there was. Tikki’mon asked them to hold the spot for an hour so they could decide what they were going to do.

The hour was almost up and the rain had postponed for the last ten minutes. They were starting to get very anxious. The hour was up and there was no rain coming down now, the cloud was sitting over the south shore. Tikki’mon knew if he went along with playing at the Café and it started raining he was almost guaranteed not to get a spot at the Bamboo Hut.

Tikki’mon and his band mates got to the Sunset Café and everything was going smoothly until one of his band mates heard a crack of thunder in the distance. Not more then ten minutes later the rain was back and pouring harder then ever. They were so frustrated now they could not think. So the Sunset Café made an executive decision to close for the night. Tikki’mon and his crew were furious.

Tikki’mon called his buddy Jamul to see if there was a chance that there would be a spot open. There was not. The band was so frustrated and tired over the fact that they did not have a show that they took the night off. Despite their mood, they had a very good time relaxing and watching other bands perform. The next morning, Tikki’mon woke up and got a phone call from the Sunset Café. They asked if he would like to perform that night. His band was already booked at the Bamboo Hut, and he had learned his lesson. Tikki’mon told them he would love to perform for them another time but to book him in advance. They understood, and the conversation was soon over. Tikki’mon went to the Bamboo Hut that night and had one of the best performances of his life.