Samuelle is rushed to the ER after bumping his head at the playground I don’t know why this happened. I was a nice, calm person. I was new to the area, and I had moved there not that long ago. I was nine years old and l loved going to the park, so I asked my aunt if I could go to the park across the street from East Side Middle School. The sun was shining bright like a spotlight, and the clouds looked like they were filled with happiness and joy. The birds were tweeting, and it was a good day to be outside, but I instantly got kind of bored because there were usually a lot more kids. All of the kids there were little. Then I saw a group of kids who were around my age or older, so I asked if I could possibly play and they all agreed. We were five to six kids playing hide-and-seek. After playing for a while, I saw someone who went to my school, P.S. 198 Elementary School, and was in third grade. He was picked to be the seeker. I was afraid because I was a shy kid back then, so I ran with Casey and hid under a jungle gym bridge. The seeker was near, so I decided to get up and run, but I got up too fast and cracked my head on the jungle gym bridge. Casey screamed like she had just seen a ghost. Her mother came and saw me and yelled to her husband. “Honey, come help!” she called out. Her husband came running in a dash. My head was bleeding. All these questions came rushing through my bloody head: What happened? What had I done wrong? They brought me to a bench nearby, and I noticed the sky wasn’t blue anymore. It was gray. The birds weren’t tweeting anymore. I wasn’t smiling anymore, and everything looked like an upside-down happy face. Casey’s dad picked me up from the bench, put me in the backseat of their car, and drove us all the way to the nearest hospital called Mount Sinai. When we got to Mount Sinai, Casey’s parents got me out of the car. I felt a weird tingle from my head, but not from the bleeding. It was something else. Then, something switched off in my head and I didn’t know where I was anymore, like a kid in a cornfield. When I looked around, I noticed that I was in a place that I didn’t like. I started having thoughts like: Where am I? Who are these people? Are they going to hurt me? I panicked slightly and started to wiggle out of Casey’s dad’s grip. He started to tighten it. I said to myself, The only way out is to use all of my strength. So I bit his hand and ran toward the exit, but just then a doctor walked in. I bumped right into her. I looked up sharply as she bent down slowly and stared me deep in the eyes. She noticed what was wrong with me and said, “I understand you are lost. Okay? Please, follow me.” So I got up and started to follow her down the hall on the left side of the exit. I kept wondering where she was taking me, until we walked into the emergency room. When we walked in, it felt so familiar to me. I looked at the doctor’s name tag. It read “Uira.” Then it hit me. This was the same room where I was born, and that was one of the doctors who had helped my mom give birth to me. At that moment, another doctor came in with some type of liquid and told me to drink it. I was confused and I thought there was no way I was drinking that. “Please?” said Dr. Uira. “What is it?” I asked. “It’s for your head,” she said. Then the other doctor said, “Drink it and follow me.” I gulped it down as I jogged to catch up with her. We went to room G15. I looked around the room and saw a small sink, an examination table, and doctor tools. I sat on the table and looked around. The doctor left and came back in with a purple drink and a metal tool. “Drink this,” she said. “Okay,” I replied and drank it. Dr. Uira brought me to another room where my aunt also was. Dr. Uira bent down to look at me and said, “I need you to be strong for this one. Try to stay still. This will hurt because we’re putting in stitches.” At the time I didn’t know what stitches were, but I was still nervous because they sounded painful. Still, I trusted her. She opened a packet with a disinfectant wipe and began to clean the wound on my head. I felt a pressure on the wound and a light sting. Then she gathered the suture supplies and prepared to operate on my head. Before she began the procedure she said, “I’m going to count to three. At the end of three, you will feel three sharp pains, but try your best not to move.” She counted to three and began to stitch my head. I wanted to yell, but I felt like I couldn’t. As painful as it was, the doctor finished quickly. Before I knew it, she was done. Dr. Uira stood up. “Okay, now follow me again,” she said. That time, I was unsure if I should, but I did, and I was greeted by Casey and her parents. My aunt, my friend Casey, and her parents, all asked if I was okay. “I guess.” I shrugged. My aunt hugged me. “Let’s go home,” she said.
March 2023
Brother
Canon EOS Rebel T7
The Kidnapping of the Principal’s Son
When her best friend disappears, Katie puts on her detective hat A typical Sunday night in the Midwestern town of Mells Bells included fourteen- year-old Katie up way past her bedtime typing out her latest article. Her articles covered topics ranging from the harms of pesticides to the new mayor’s dog’s death. Katie attended Townsend High, the local prep school, with her best friend since first grade—Xavier. Katie was there on scholarship. Xavier was there because his mom was the principal. Tonight, though, Katie’s article was a little too close to home. She furiously typed out the title: “The Kidnapping of the Principal’s Son” and began hammering away. The night before, Katie and Xavier had been hanging out after watching their favorite superhero movie at the theater in the center of town. “Katie, you should totally date the villain in the movie. You two are so alike!” Xavier teased. Katie punched him in the shoulder and rolled her eyes. Xavier’s phone dinged, and he sighed dramatically. “The most protective mother in the world is wondering where her awesome son is right now and insists that he return home in an instant!” Xavier and Katie made plans to meet up the next morning, hopped on their bikes, and rode off. When Katie woke up in the morning, she sent Xavier a text. After Xavier hadn’t responded to the next three she sent, she tried calling him. When she still couldn’t reach him, she called his mother, only to hear that Xavier had gone missing. “When was the last time you saw him?” Katie asked over the phone. “Last night, when I was saying goodnight to him,” his mother replied. “I’m sorry, Katie. I really have to go. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow at school?” “Sure, Principal Smith. I’ll be there.” After finishing the call, Katie jumped into reporter-detective mode. She grabbed a couple of recent pictures of Xavier and started knocking on doors in Xavier’s neighborhood to see if anyone had seen anything suspicious last night. Katie had ridden two blocks past the movie theater—a full eight blocks from Xavier’s home—before finding a single clue. Mr. Peanut, the elderly man who ran the drugstore, admitted that he had thought it was odd lights were on in the abandoned warehouse across the street. Her first clue! Katie sent a text to Xavier’s mom and sped back home, keeping her eyes open for more clues about Xavier. The next day, Katie left for school early so she could catch Xavier’s mom before school started. Katie dashed to the principal’s office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” said Principal Smith. Katie opened the door and walked in. Even though Xavier’s mom was good at hiding her emotions, Katie noticed her hair, which was usually pulled into an immaculate bun, was in a messy ponytail today. Principal Smith also had black circles under her eyes. “Um, hello, Principal Smith. I want to ask you some questions about when you last saw Xavier.” “Go ahead, Katie.” “Okay,” Katie said, flipping through notes in her journal. “Maybe it’s nothing, but you know Mr. Peanut downtown? He said last night was the first night he’d seen lights on in tha told, abandoned warehouse. You think it could be connected?” Principal Smith looked at Katie with a tired expression. “Katie, maybe we should talk about this a little more privately.” “What do you mean by ‘more privately’?” “Follow me,” she said. First, Principal Smith closed the door and the shutters, then went over to her light switch and pressed a button hidden under it. Katie’s eyes widened when she saw the floorboards slowly shift to reveal a hidden trapdoor. “Wow,” Katie said, sucking in breath. “You have a secret office inside your office.” “Yes, but Katie, this is really important and you cannot write about it in your story, do you understand?” “Yes, ma’am,” Katie said. On a normal day, she would have been very grumpy about missing this scoop, but this was not a normal day. She followed Principal Smith down the stairway with her jaw dropped. “Katie, before I met my husband and had Xavier, I was working for the Secret Service.” “You were a spy?” “Something like that. I believe that may be why my son was kidnapped.” “Alright. Tell me all you know.” Principal Smith told her about all the people who could have wanted to kidnap Xavier—because of what she knew as a former secret agent and because of who she had put behind bars. “Thank you, Principal Smith. This is very helpful,” Katie said, taking notes furiously. Running up the stairs and climbing through the trapdoor, she watched as Principal Smith closed the door and set everything back to normal. Principal Smith took out a folder from her desk. It had a red stamp that said “Classified.” While running to her first class, she bumped into her chemistry teacher, whose golden blonde hair fell around her shoulders. Her sparkling emerald eyes caught Katie’s. She had been at the school even before Principal Smith. “Hello, Katie. Working on your newest story?” asked Mrs. Jimena Cent. Mrs. Jimena Cent preferred the students call her by her first and last name. “Yes, ma’am. I’m working on the story of Xavier’s kidnapping.” “Kidnapping,” she said, with concern sparkling in her big, innocent eyes. “I hadn’t heard. Is there any way that I can help poor Xavier? He was one of my favorite students and an excellent chemist. Have you found any clues?” Mrs. Jimena Cent asked with interest. “I think so. I’m a pretty good reporter.” Katie showed Mrs. Jimena Cent her notes so far. “Wow, Katie. I must admit that is impressive.” Katie looked at her phone and realized that Principal Smith had called her. “I’m so sorry, but I really have to go.” Mrs. Jimena Cent nodded. “Keep looking out for clues, Katie. Best of luck.” “Thank you, Mrs. Jimena Cent.” Katie walked to Principal Smith’s office. “Hey, Principal Smith. Sorry I
