A strange noise spooks the narrator My eyes were wandering around the page of my book as I was sitting in the fort I made. The moon was strangling the sun and winning for the next eight hours until he was finally defeated at dawn. A frightening sound whispered through the window. Horrified as a person could be, I abruptly hid under the covers. The time went by and I didn’t notice a thing, so I quietly read so I could hear if anything came close. As I heard something come close, tears rolled down my face and dripped on the page, slowly washing away the words. “Man, that was my library book!” I exclaimed, quickly covering my mouth just in case. Slow as a sloth, I unfolded my covers, accidentally leaving my bravery behind. I got closer and closer to finding out what was making that noise. The covers were finally letting me see what was around my room. My eyes scanned the room: nothing was there. “I guess it was just the wind,” I mumbled to myself as the wind whistled, and I went to sleep. Kaydence Sweitzer, 9Virginia Beach, VA Jeremy Nohrnberg, 10Cambridge, MA
Melanie is determined to save Riverhaven, home to unicorns and dragons, from being torn apart Staring at the harsh sunlight, Melanie McGee smiled. She was glad to say that the miniature dragon nuzzling her shoulder had not dared to take a step away from her. She grimaced at the thought of leaving all the grown unicorns alone, who were in fact not that grown at all. They were quite a foolish species. No matter their age, they always seemed to find trouble. Leaving them unguarded surely meant the ghastly notion of being fired. Melanie McGee, who seemed to be no older than twelve, had been given the preposterous job of watching over the irritating animals of the Riverhaven Zoo. The job was impossible. That, at least, was what nearly all the townsfolk had said. * * * The mysterious town of Riverhaven was like no other. It was filled to the brim (if that’s even possible) with all types of unusual species. You never knew if you might bump into some strange creature on the street. Unicorns, dragons, hippacles, griffins, monerines—the list could go on forever. The people of Riverhaven had disliked the creatures since the beginning of time. All they had ever wanted was to be left in peace with no foolish unicorns, playful griffins, repulsive monerines (it is believed that this species is a cross between a goat and a sheep), or engrossing hippacles to stop them. Ever since the end of the Battle of the Diddod, the people of Riverhaven were never to live a regular life again. You see, the Battle of the Diddod had been the worst in centuries. The people of Riverhaven announced war against all of the odd creatures, who were given this name: the Diddod. The war went on for 200 years, 200 long, bloody years. In the end, the creatures won. They were allowed to stay in the town. No one could stop them. The people could declare more war, but no one wanted to relive the horrors of having no food, water, shelter, family, and life. Melanie McGee was not an inhabitant of this town then. But this is her story. And it is my job to tell it. So, I am going to take you to a place a lot nicer than the town of Riverhaven. I am taking you to New York, where Melanie was born. * * * Now, before I explain Melanie’s life, I will start from the very beginning, with the life of Melanie’s father, Mr. McGee. Mr. McGee was the type of person who could become popular within a matter of seconds. He was well known in the city for his mathematical ability and his way with science, and he was one of the many who constantly claimed that Riverhaven was not a real place. Not that many people disagreed. However, Mr. McGee had his quirks: he, even to his own daughter, refused to say his full name. He was always leaving town unexpectedly, and when he came back, he didn’t mention any details of what had happened, let alone tell Melanie where he’d gone. He had never, according to Melanie, written with pen and paper; he always used a typewriter. However, his weirdest feature was that he always kept a large metal feather in his pocket. There was no way that the feather had been created by a sculptor. Melanie was sure of it. Not even the best of the best could match the amount of detail woven into the metal. She was also sure that it was definitely not from any animal she had heard of. “New York is not a place for an imaginative child. It is not a place for a girl who likes to run, climb, dance, and prance around the city. New York is for success. For attentive children. For children who follow the rules. For children who aren’t foolish and aren’t babies. You, my child, are not ready for New York.” This was the exact wording of what Mr. McGee had told her after Melanie had once again broken her arm trying to catch a butterfly—it had been flying so elegantly! It had landed on her nose with a light flutter. A shiver of delight had scurried through her skin. She had trailed behind it as it flew by bustling citizens, as it headed for the streets, headed for the cars, until, at last, it halted with a sudden motion. Melanie was a cheetah at that point: she couldn’t stop. Her body flung itself onto the road. Cars screeched to a stop. A man with curly brown hair down to his shoulders left his car and picked up Melanie’s prostrate body. She had been driven to the hospital and was now pacing in her room, arm wrapped securely in a cast. These types of incidents were a ritual for Melanie. Something like this happened at least once a month. And, if she was feeling particularly foolish, maybe even twice. And every time it happened, her father’s frown would dig deeper into his face and he would sternly repeat the same words. Then he would give Melanie one last glare and leave her to think in silence. Melanie always tried to prevent her silliness, but it wasn’t much use. She wasn’t a city girl. She was meant to be roaming rural landscapes, searching for hidden treasure and mythological creatures that her father said didn’t exist. But Melanie knew better. She had read books about the Battle of Diddod. She couldn’t help it: she was fascinated. She was meant to be roaming rural landscapes, searching for hidden treasure and mythological creatures that her father said didn’t exist. But her father, tired from all the pestering, had made a decision. The following day, he stated his plan: “Melanie, I have come to realize that you aren’t fit for this lifestyle.” Melanie rolled her
