Story: Everything Girl by Camille Rillstone

People describe me as a confident, strong, smart, athletic, adventurous young lady but this is only what people think I am. Truely, When I see myself, I have a lot of insecurities, I am only as smart as an average student, and only adventurous when my mom makes me go for photo shoots. If you asked anybody around my school who is the biggest athlete and nerd my name would probably come up. “Valerie Vega is the new class president.” “ Valerie Vega wins the dance team solo section competition entree award.” Please don’t get me started about all of the clubs I am in. From Mock Trial to Sign Language club, I am mostly some way involved in it. Oh, and did I mention all of my AP classes? Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for all of my opportunities but it is so stressful. There is only one reason I do all of this. I do it for my Mom because I want her to just be proud of me. My mom insists that I love dance and that I have to compete in every single competition. She expects me to win overall top winner of the day and first place overall in group and solo divisions. Even though I have a ton of rewards I still hate it!

We all have secrets right? Well mine is I wish I could be a normal teen. I wanna go to the weekend football games and not spend my whole weekend worrying about spirit week posters or going to my friends parties and not to a Speech and Debate meeting. I wish I could tell my mom how I truly feel.

It's Saturday morning and it’s what my mom calls Dance Dazzle Day. Today we are traveling to the bright and shining stage of New York to compete at Energy dance. Then I will perform a solo called “ You Can Do Anything”. I learned my solo for only an half an hour because on my two private practices I had Student Senate meetings and a Interact volunteer work that had to be done.

I love New York-- the shopping, the bright lights, the rush are all my favorite things, but Energy dance is not. I hate tights so so so so much and I wish I could just not wear them. One time I asked my mom if it was okay to not wear them for my one solo and she told me “Your legs won’t be as pretty.” I love makeup and hair styles but the competition makeup and hair styles are just way too much for me.

As I sat down at my vanity set and took out my bags, my glitter filled pink costume was haunting me. Mom got me my dazzled headpiece which now is covered in silver jewels. Maggie, my hairdresser and coach, put my brown hair in long curls and then I did my makeup with silver and light pink eyeshadow, dark brown eyeliner, black mascara, light shaded cover up, shiney highlight, and pink blush. My mom thought I looked great but I knew I wasn’t being my true self.

I was backstage waiting my turn to go on stage. When I turned around and my friend in my dance company was there

"Hey! Are you okay?” she said. 

“ Hey Oliva, I am good!” “No, seriously I saw you in practice. You seem to always look sad and never really excited when you hit your turns well or when you got your front handspring down in Arco afew weeks ago. You don’t seem as passionate. I love that you are one of our teammates. You are such a great dancer and benefit to the team but if you don’t want to do this anymore then I would talk to your mom and Maggie. You have to do what makes you happy and if dance doesn’t do that for you, maybe you should do something you want to.” 

The hardest part of hearing this is it made me realize the truth is Olivia is completely right, I have these feelings a lot. I want to limit the amount of clubs I do, for example maybe do speech and debate or Mock Trial, not both. I love dance but competing just makes it not fun, I want to dance from my heart and not be judged on what I look like and how good I am compared to others.

I turned to her and said “Thanks Olivia, this really helped and you honestly are completely right.”

I ran to a mirror and grabbed a makeup wipe out of my bag. I wiped it all off. I took out the half-pony with curls and and just let them settle on my shoulders. I grabbed a pair of sweats from my bag and a t-shirt and slipped it on.

“Up next is ‘You Can Be Anything!’ by contestant number 56.” announced the backstage crew.

I walked out and watched all the jaws drop. Every wrinkle popped out of my Mom’s face and her jaw dropped to the floor. I danced to all the beats with a smile on my face, I switched over the emotions with my face. I embraced my character and that character was me. I hit my turns with perfect straight legs and my flips with strong arms. Then it came time to hit my final position. I leaped across the stage as high as I can go, did a final turn and sat on the stage with my legs in a split.

I got a standing ovation from the whole room. I was truly proud of self and I actually enjoyed what I was doing with my life.

“Valerie Vega, what happened out there?” my mom asked me when I was heading to the dressing rooms.

”Mom I really need to tell you something. I don’t like competing, clubs, or activities if I can’t be myself. I hate how every second we have a club meeting or have be at a dance convention. I appreciate everything you do for me but I want to hang out with friends and go watch the football games. My friends and fun is really important to me because it shapes who I am, I love you mom and I hope you understand.” I looked her in her eyes and tried to read her expression.

“Val I love whoever you want to be. I thought you enjoyed this. I am so sorry that I put you through so much stress. I hope when we get home we can edit the schedule and see what you want it to be, it wouldn’t matter if you went out there and danced in your PJ’s, I still believe it was amazing because to me you are amazing. I love you Val.” she said.

We hugged and truly I finally feel that I am on the verge of being myself.

As I sat on the stage for rewards I really wanted to know if I even placed. They called fifth place and it wasn’t me. They called third it wasn't me.

The announcer said “First place is Valerie Vega!”

I jumped up and down. I felt as if this is the first time I won a competition. I have not been happy about winning in awhile, I walked with excitement for my speech and trophy. I motioned Oliva to come up with me.

“Hello everybody! I would like to thank my instructor Maggie Miller and my Mom, Victoria Vega, for always supporting me. Today I want to especially thank my friend Oliva for helping me find my true self. With you I wouldn’t have been able to express my true self and get my feelings out. Thank you and goodnight!” I said.

Everybody clapped and I walked off the stage to my coach and mom. I was excited to finally have chance to be myself.

When I walked back to the dressing room, everybody congulated me. They were proud and impressed. I know that even if I was just one little girl in the big,huge ,apple, that I taught a very important lesson. I hope other people in the audience who are going through same issue that I was build up the courage to step away from it and be herself.

I drove away from the competition, watching the pink and orange sunset just thinking about endless possibilities I can have. I now can play with my fluffy brown dog Roger, and go to Sara’s party on Monday. I can actually have a day of laying around watching Netflix. Goodbye stress, hello world!!

Story: We Stole An Ice Cream Truck by Julia Braatz

Chapter One

I hope you know the high stakes I’m putting myself in when I tell you this. No one really knows that this ever happened. Hold on a sec though. I can’t just tell the middle of the story.

It all happened when I was 15 and still trying to figure out what to do with my life. I always wondered what it would be like when I finally got out of this small town and everything I’ve worked hard for in school would finally pay off. That was exactly what I was thinking when I rode my bike to Amy’s Ice Cream Store for the first time since I had left there. I hadn’t realized that that was when everything changed. I thought it was going to be another normal day, eating ice cream.

The place was more adorable than anyone could imagine. The shop had soft teal blue walls and a wood floor. The front of the store had a candy shop sprawling with so much candy that even if half the inventory was taken, they could still feed half of Africa with what remained. The back of the shop held an ice cream station, which is always where Sam the Security dog chooses to sit everytime the owner of the shops mother comes in for a visit.

I was waiting for my friend Mark, who I have been friends with since the second grade.  We had only met outside of school a couple of times. Mark was the one that I could count on shopping with or doing nails with, but never the person I could rely on to be on time.

I sat there pondering the multiple ways I would kill him for being late, until I got a text message:

Hey girl, sorry I’m late. Had problems with the boyfriend. I’m coming over now :)

“Finally, he actually responded this time” I thought to myself. I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal. I had nothing better to do anyway. I never had anything better to do for a while. My life would have been like a bag of stale chips, bland with no color once so ever. It would have been, if I wasn’t friends with Mark.

Eating my ice cream and watching some guy take out the trash, the place was completely empty. It had been half an hour and I was starting to get restless. I know Mark has to walk like two miles to get here, but it’s never taken him this long before. After a while I assumed he just decided not to come. I was getting ready to leave when Mark finally shows up.

“Hey Honey.” He smiled at me and gave a small wave. He walked over, practically bouncing as he walks.

“I’ve been waiting for centuries you know.”

“Yeah, it’s twelve now so I had to take the long way.”

I immediately understood when he said that. You see, Mark didn’t live in a very nice neighborhood. Not that it was a bad area, but the boys like to make fun of him for being gay. It also didn’t help that Mark’s really thin and cries a lot, but that’s no excuse for the things the boys do to him.

“I’m sorry.” I never know what else to say.

Mark's face turns completely pale.

“What?” I asked

Mark runs out the back door while the front door is opening. Just then, I saw four, tall brawny teenage boys walk into the shop. They looked like football players. Two of them were wearing jerseys. The front guy was clenching his fist and the other three were smiling maliciously.

They must have followed Mark.

I slowly got up from my chair and struggled to casually walk out the door. They must have known that I was friends with Mark from the countless times I had spent with him. The front guy screamed “There’s his friend!”

I locked the door of the ice cream store as fast as I could with the spare key under the mat then ran for my life until I was out in the parking lot. Quickly, I sprinted to see where Mark went but knocked into the trash guy. I don’t mean that I lightly bumped into him; I mean that I fell on him and that my elbow slammed his forehead between his eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

I frantically started apologizing and couldn’t stop. I probably thought that if I apologized enough, the red bump I had just made on his forehead would magically disappear.

He looked up at me for a few seconds before saying “It’s alright, the mark adds color to my face.” The poor guy then gave a weak smile and slowly came to his feet.

He had looked vaguely familiar and I thought he went to my school. He was pretty cute too, with dark brown hair and emerald green eyes. He also looked strong, but not scary. To put it this way, not like the guys I had just locked in the store. He then said,

“They might let me go early if I say I have a concussion.Taking out the garbage is like asking me to take out a bomb. They would both explode all over the driveway just the same.”

“Uh, yeah.”

 I had completely forgotten that there were four guys planning to punch the life out of me if I didn’t give up my friend. There was just something so calm about this kid that made me want to stay and talk awhile. Of course I couldn’t, because I suddenly saw the four boys coming out from the side of the shop. I started desperately looking for Mark until I found him behind the dumpster.

Mark looked up at me petrified and said, “We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“Well, what are we supposed to do? We don’t have a ride and there’s no way that we could possibly outrun them.”

Mark looked out and moved his head side to side. I wondered what he could possibly be looking for. I found out the hard way. Just then, the ice cream truck pulled in. The man in the truck climbed out with four cartons of ice cream and hauled them toward the store. Mark glanced at me with a look that said he had to do it, but with a smile said that he needed to do it.

“No Mark,” I said with a mix of fear and excitement.

He looked at the truck again. “This is an emergency.”

“It’s illegal,” I warned.

Mark exploded into a sprint toward the truck faster than I could finish my sentence. Then I did something I never thought I would do that day; I ran right after to join him.

**Stay tuned for Chapter 2!**

Short Story: The Annulment by Rahique Mirza

It was finally over. The war that had been raging for nearly 23 years had reached its end. It should have been a day of celebration for victory over the Axis, but alas, there was no chance of anyone wanting to rejoice. The war had ended with a cost, the detonation of hundreds upon hundreds of nuclear warheads around the globe. While there were some who were able to reach a fallout shelter, they didn't all survive. Many succumbed to radiation poisoning, and many more died due to faulty shelters. In the end, the number of survivors barely reached 5% of the population.

April 11, 1981

My name’s Lee Abbot and I am, or at least I was, a lead researcher in experimental technologies for the U.S. Army. At the time of the nuclear holocaust, I was attending a meeting with other teams at the Pentagon. If I hadn’t been at that meeting, I wouldn’t have been able to reach a shelter in time. While I’m grateful to god for how lucky I was, I wish I could trade my life for family’s and allow them to live instead. I had a son and a wife ripped away from me by those awful bombs and I wasn’t there for them. However, I know my wife would want me to live and that's the only thought that's kept motivated in this god forsaken shelter.

Before the bombs dropped, my research division had been working on a highly experimental piece of technology for the government titled Project Annulment. To annul is to make void or obliterate. In the case of Project Annulment, its use was to obliterate the future by making events in the past void. In other words, we were being funded to build a time machine. The project was seen as something that had a very high chance of just being a waste of money. However, in 1959, we uncovered a breakthrough which not only told us that time travel was possible, it also told us that we could achieve it very soon.

After learning this fact, my team worked tirelessly to create the time machine. We would rapidly create new prototypes, but time and time again they would fail. That was until July of 1962, when we were able to send a mouse a minute back in time. The mouse may have combusted on arrival, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that we achieved something that seemed to be impossible. That August, I was bringing updated blueprints to the Pentagon to show to the board. The new prototype, while much more expensive, would fix all the problems with the previous prototype, allowing for humans to travel to the past. Unfortunately, disaster had to strike. The bombs had killed the rest of my team and all of our research. All that remained of Project Annulment were the blueprints I carried.

At first I wanted to end my suffering. I was grieving for the loss of my family and was wracked with guilt . I believed if we had just finished the time machine soone, we may have been able to completely change the course of history, allowing for the war to end before it could escalate to nuclear war. But as I was searching through the rooms of the shelter, I found the holy grail. It was a room filled with scraps from old experiments conducted by the government containing nearly everything that I needed to build the prototype. For the next 18 ½ years, I scavenged everything I could. There were many parts missing which took me months, and even years to find replacements for, but I pushed through. When I finally finished the machine, I stepped back to admire what I had done. It resembled a car with no wheels, just a cylinder with doors and a window. On the inside there were knobs for adjusting the precise date and location one wants to travel too. Unfortunately, the amount of power it required would fry all the electronics in the shelter. If I chose to do this and it didn’t work, I would be condemning everyone in the shelter to death. However, the amount of lives it will save if it worked are far greater. More importantly to me, I had the chance to give my wife another shot at life, and I would take that shot, even if I couldn’t be there for her.

Set on my plan, I jumped into the machine and strapped myself in, I set the time and date to when I had the best shot of fixing things, June 22 1941, and prepared myself. I knew I only had one shot to change the outcome of the invasion of Great Britain and I wasn’t even sure if I could. No one knew what messing with time entails. I then took one last breath and flipped the switch.

The machine started to whir and the lights flipped on. I could feel the heat of the machine as It powered up. All of a sudden, the light shut off from lack of power. The machine was running quickly out of power, but it was so close. I pushed the machine further trying to get it to the point where I could travel, but it was no use. The machine started to sputter and then it finally came to a stop, bringing my dreams of a better future down with it.

So now here I sit, writing to someone I will never meet. If this is ever found, then I can only hope that it gets better. I had failed what I spent 18 years preparing for and brought down all of the other people in the shelter with me. We are slowly running out of supplies, and without electricity, many of the facilities in the bunker are unusable. My time is coming to a close so all I can do now is hope that the human race succeeds even if I failed.

Poem: Ode to Sweat by Delaney Kaeb

After a long day of fun

Being outside in the sun

There’s one thing keeping me cool

         Though it is a liquid

It’s not found my swimming pool

Taken for granted

          Almost always wiped away

         But if it were not here

        We would not be alive today

         Composed of almost all water    

         A few chemicals here and there

        It comes out of our bodies

      Just like pieces of hair

        It can stain our clothes

      It can make us smell

         But both of those will go away

       If you wash yourself well

It boosts your endorphins

Detoxifies your body too

So you don’t get sick

With things like the flu

Kidney stone risk is lowered

And your zits go away

So there are some benefits

Among the prices we have to pay

It happens when you exercise

Comes out everywhere, even your feet

And if you’ve ever tasted it

You know it tastes salty, not sweet

By now you must know

I’m talking about sweat

And you probably learned

Some things you didn’t know yet

So the next time you’re out in the sun

And you wipe your forehead

Or you’re tired after a workout

And hop into bed

Remember sweat is your friend

And not your foe

And it deserves a thank you

For it’s stinky flow