She arrived at school just in time to see a reddish-orange fox disappearing into the forest Cassandra sat at her desk in the midst of piles of papers and books. She had cleared a small space where a piece of paper and a few colored pencils were cramped together. A picture of a waterfall flooded into her mind. She hurriedly picked out the blue pencil and drew it. As always, the picture didn’t come out just how she imagined it. The light didn’t hit the water the right way, making it sparkle, and where the waterfall hit the pond, it didn’t bubble and foam quite the way she would’ve liked. “Ah well,” she said, thrusting the picture into her pocket and grabbing her backpack. She hurried out of her room and stuffed a piece of toast down her throat without tasting it. She ran out of the door and into the ugly yellow school bus. She arrived at school just in time to see a reddish-orange fox disappearing into the forest. She glanced quickly at her watch: five minutes till the bell rang. I’ll chance it, she thought, and chased the fox. She reached a large, grassy clearing where it was sitting on a rock, its legs crossed and its elbows on its knees. Its face lit up when it saw Cassandra and it turned around, its tail bristling, and disappeared once again into the endless forest. Still astonished at what she had just seen, she followed the fox once more. Cassandra arrived at a little spring of water she never knew existed. She didn’t think twice that she was supposed to be in math class but was instead following a fox through the woods. The fox turned to make sure it was still being followed and strode purposefully into the spring. To Cassandra’s surprise, it disappeared once more, but this time it left no trace. Deciding quickly, Cassandra walked into the spring, her light blond hair darkening as the water washed over her. She closed her eyes to shield them from the cool water raining down on her face. After about thirty seconds of being thoroughly soaked through, she stepped out from the spring and wiped her wet eyes before opening them. She was no longer surrounded by just green and brown but a marvelous array of colorful fruits. The fox was nowhere to be seen, but a girl with reddish-orange hair was sitting cross-legged on a rock with her elbows on her knees. Her face lit up when she saw Cassandra had stepped out of the spring. “I’m Emily,” said the girl shortly. She picked up a blue fruit resembling a teardrop and threw it to Cassandra. “Eat it, it’s good,” said Emily, biting into one herself. Cassandra was hesitant to eat it but finally decided to try it. She bit off a small chunk of the fruit. It was the most unexplainable and delicious fruit she had ever tasted, and she quickly finished it. In a matter of seconds she was reaching for another. “I’m Cassandra,” she said through a full mouth that had been craving food since her tiny breakfast. When she had had her fill of all the wonderful new fruits, the ground was littered with cores and pits and stems. Emily stood waiting for her. “Eat it, it’s good,” said Emily, biting into one herself “Where did that fox go?” asked Cassandra. Emily smirked. “I am the fox,” she said. “When someone from this world goes into your world, they turn into an animal. I turn into a fox.” Slightly confused, Cassandra followed Emily as she began making her way through the forest with fox-like agility. Cassandra struggled to keep up and, more than once, Emily had to stop and wait for her. “What do you mean, my world? Isn’t this my world?” Cassandra asked. “No,” said Emily, her reddish-orange hair trailing behind her as she cut a quick corner. Cassandra’s blond hair instead got caught by a bramble and caused a sharp pain in the back of her head when she tugged it out. “Where are we going anyway?” asked Cassandra, clutching her head. “You’ll see,” replied Emily. Cassandra hated when people said things like that. Anyone who knew her knew that she hated waiting for surprises to be revealed, but when they finally came, she was glad no one had spoiled them by telling her. “Water,” began Emily, snapping Cassandra out of her thoughts, “has a strange effect on the two worlds we were talking about. Certain bodies of water, ones that rain from above like springs and waterfalls, act as passageways between them. When you want to get back, just find another spring or waterfall and it’ll bring you to the closest spring or waterfall to your home. That’s the spring we used to get here, the one by your school.” Cassandra soaked in the knowledge like a dry sponge thirsting for water. Something rang a bell in the back of her mind. She pulled out the picture of a waterfall she had made earlier that morning. The colors had run a little and the page was still wet but you could still see the picture. She shook her head and dismissed it as mere coincidence that she had drawn the passage between two worlds on the day she actually used it. She slipped it back into her pocket. After what seemed like hours of walking in the cool, dark shade of the tall, leafy trees, they arrived at a tall stone building. Emily placed her hand on the door and indicated for Cassandra to do the same. Emily removed her hand and Cassandra followed her example. Two hands glowed, indented, on the door. “Emily and visitor!” exclaimed a harsh, sinister voice. “Come in!” They obeyed. Inside was a large, spiral staircase leading to the second floor. They climbed it and entered a room. Emily nudged Cassandra towards the large throne-like chair occupied by a portly man wearing robes of
Fantasy
River God
We sat there, under the tree, our tree. The tree with the leaves that spread to the sun like helping hands. The tree with the tall trunk and cool shade. “It’s hot,” I complained, fanning myself with the back of my hand, the mid-August sun beating down from the unforgiving sun. Mimi stood up. Her long dark hair draped down her back and her rosy face was pink. Jared and I stared at her in confusion. “We have been sitting here all day, complaining about the heat. I want to go hiking into the woods. My mom was talking of a small stream she found while she was exploring the new hunting trails.” And with that Mimi marched off. Jared looked at me and I looked at Jared and we both stood up to follow. Our tree stood on a hill looking over the dark, forbidding woods. Those trees were black and tall in a way that our tree was not. Those trees rose like mountains until they seemed to scrape the glaring cloudless sky. They whispered about some untold secret when the wind passed, rattling together with a sound like bones. It was for this reason that I stopped at the forest’s edge. Long, thick, parched stems of grasses pressed up against my legs. A small red-and-black ladybug was crawling, ever so slowly, up one of the stems. It reached the top, lost its footing and fell. “Emma, hurry up!” Mimi’s voice was impatient and I could see her far ahead, through the trees. Her yellow summer dress stood out like a ghost against the dark trunks and I hurried to catch up. But the most amazing part of her beauty was she seemed to emanate a faint, silvery glow We followed no path in particular. The forest floor was carpeted with leaves, which had fallen in the late summer drought, making the ground crunchy and hard to see. There were no birds and no small animals. No, they had all fled, searching for water somewhere else. We reached the place. A place where the trees were green and lush and the grass sang. When a gust of wind blew, it sang of joy and happiness and life. There were rocks beyond the grass that led to a river. Not a stream, as described by Mimi’s mother, but a rushing, swishing, pouring river. The water was a clear, beautiful, turquoise blue. Mimi flung off her shoes and ran to dip her toes into the water and Jared followed not too far after. We hadn’t seen this much water in a long time. My feet dipped under the cold surface and felt the hard, round pebbles of the riverbed between their toes. Jared gasped and I looked up. On the opposite shore was a woman. She was tall and slender. Her hair was thick and hung in ringlets around her face. She wore a white dress though her feet were bare. But the most amazing part of her beauty was she seemed to emanate a faint, silvery glow. I glanced sideways at Jared and his mouth was hanging open. I longed to shut it and ask this wonderful lady to forgive his rudeness, but I didn’t. She opened her mouth and the word came out like a tumbling waterfall, fluent and enchanting. “Come.” Jared stepped forward as if under a spell. Somehow, he crossed the river and stood beside her. She grabbed him by the arm and ran with a wonderful grace. Mimi screamed and ran after her, sloshing through the racing river. The woman paused just inside the trees and looked back. Her eyes grew dark and hard, they seemed to grow bigger and bigger until they swallowed everything else. The world tipped under me and all was quiet. My eyes fluttered open and I was back under the tree, our tree, with Mimi and Jared beside me. Something was different and I looked up to see the sky open in a torrential downpour. Virginia Mason, 12Hoboken, New Jersey Zoe Yeoh, 12Salem, Connecticut
The Island of Mysteries
The afternoon started in perfection on the rainforest-island. Trees waved lazily, birds cawed in each limb, monkeys chattered greetings as they swung from vine to vine, and waves landed on the shore. A few feet off of the island, however, the watery perfection was silent. Other than the gentle lapping of the waves, not a sound was heard. Around four o’clock the soft hum of a luxury yacht split the calm. The white front of the boat divided the crystal blue neatly in two and left a trail of bubbling water behind. On its deck stood a young man in long trousers and a T-shirt, and through the wide observatory windows a tough-looking young woman stood at the wheel. The motor’s hum softened as the yacht drew near the island, and the young man on deck turned to go inside the spacious wheelhouse. A moment later he reappeared with a backpack. He pressed a button, and a wide dock began to unfold itself luxuriously from the depths of the boat. The young woman opened the door of the wheelhouse and walked down the bleached-white dock after the young man. They both stood shin-deep in water for a moment, looking at the island, and then they walked toward the shore. Both started. Their ears exploded with the sounds of a rainforest that had been absent only feet away. Something did not make this island fit for a resort, but no one knew what Martha paled until her face resembled computer paper. “I’m getting out of here,” she whispered. She hugged her passenger roughly, kissed him briefly on the cheek, shook sand out of her army boots, and walked back on board. As the dock refolded itself and tucked back into the depths of the boat, she gave a sad smile to her friend back onshore. The man trudged back into the silent world of water. “Are you sure you can’t wait for me, Martha?” he yelled. Martha shook her head, looking uncharacteristically frightened. “No! As it is I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. This place gives me the jivvers. I might have said yes before now, but it’s too unnatural. Whoever heard of a… a… whatever that is, a wall of sound? And besides, no one’s ever explored this place, unless you count the poor souls who didn’t come back.” She crossed herself. “No, it is you who should come back to the mainland with me.” Her voice turned brisk, and it was clear that she was trying to put her fear behind her. “But as you won’t change your mind, I’ll be back to pick you up tomorrow at noon. I’ll wait for an hour, and then I leave at one. Remember, if you get yourself killed, I will have to be the one who brings the news to your parents, so I will expect you alive and relatively unmutilated.” She walked back into the wheelhouse, folded the dock, gave a last sad wave, and sped away. Dave stared after her until the yacht was just a speck on the horizon, and then he turned to look at the island. It looked just like a rainforest was supposed to look, bursting with exotic animals and towering trees. It could be a perfect vacationing island resort, with sandy white beaches and hot-tub-temperature water. Something, though, did not make this island fit for a resort, but no one knew what. When a sixteenth-century explorer had first landed on the island in hopes of conquering it for Spain, he had vanished without a trace. His last communications consisted of a letter and a map, marking the island. Ferdinand and Isabella sent a division of the Navy to find him three years later, but those men had not come back either. The first people to come were certainly not the last, however. Over the centuries, a long line of adventurers had sailed out to the island, hoping to explore for varying periods of time, but none had ever returned. As far as anyone knew, Dave was the first to get to the island. Now, each country had banned its people from going there, keeping lookouts from afar to enforce the law. When Dave had expressed a wish to go there, Martha had promised that she could get around the lookouts and get Dave to the island. He had gotten here without getting caught, safe and sound, but the question remained: Would he be safe and sound when Martha came to pick him up in the morning? Dave shook the questions out of his head and went off to explore. By late evening, Dave was wondering why people had ever called the island dangerous. He had never seen any place more charming, and he had been studying rainforests for seven years. Had all of the fateful explorers simply been unlucky? A small, sensible part of Dave knew that the answer was no, but he couldn’t help feeling hopeful anyway. When night fell, Dave trudged out of the rainforest and back onto the beach, feeling confident. Already, in the few hours he had explored the island, Dave had found several new species, relatives of known animals, but new nonetheless. He had already filled pages of his journal with notes and drawings. Plus, he had found the sound wall, defying many of the basic scientific laws. Based on all of this, Dave knew that if he stayed the night he would be hailed as a hero. He just had to wake up alive. Dave found a nice sandy hill and set up his tent and stove. After a hasty dinner, he got inside the tent and debated whether or not to say prayers. Finally, he decided on it, for though he had never been the religious type he thought that he could use a little extra help. “Dear God…” he began, stumbling a little on the words, “I… I hope that you protect Mother and Father and Martha back on the mainland
