May/June 2014

A Monster

I aimed the tip of the barrel up at the squirrel The branch shook silently as the wind whistled through the oak trees. The little ball of fur jumped to another branch as I pointed the flame-red sight at it. It hopped around a little, found himself a nice, big acorn, and settled on a branch. He gnawed on the nut silently as I sat below, watching, thinking, and most of all, scared. I aimed the tip of the barrel up at the squirrel. I barely tapped the trigger… Kapowwww!!!! I flinched and turned my head away, hoping to God the tiny creature had dodged the death wielding bullet. It was silent for about three seconds, then all of a sudden…  Thump! I tried to blink back my tears, but it just wasn’t possible. I chucked the BB gun as far as I could throw it and sprinted away sobbing. Wh-why had I taken his life? He didn’t do anything to me, I thought to myself. I ran inside and threw myself down onto the couch and began to soak its cushions with my miserable tears. After about an hour of sobbing, I decided I needed to confront the fear of what had happened. I slowly trudged toward the crime scene. There was just a BB gun… and some blood-soaked leaves. Then there was a rustling in the leaves behind a thick oak tree. I slowly tiptoed to the tree. I let out a loud gasp at what I saw. Lying in the leaves right in front of me was a squirrel with blood dribbling down the side of his head. He was alive… barely. I ran back to the house, grabbed a towel, and sprinted back. I wrapped the towel around the tiny ball of fur. I held him tightly against my chest. It was quite clear I had found my next pet… even if it was illegal. I brought him back to the house. I had no idea how to explain this bizarre situation to my dad. My dad came out the door right at that moment. “Hey, so… what is that?” “Well, um, I kind of shot him, but he is still alive, and I feel horrible.” “Son, you can’t keep that, it’s already half dead anyways.” “But Dad!” I screeched. “He’s just suffering; you may as well put him out of his misery.”  “I’m not killing it and neither are you!!!” I bellowed. “Why did you shoot it?” “I-I-I don’t know. I usually miss, and now that I hit him I feel terrible.” “It’s OK, buddy, but he’s really really bad hurt.” The bullet had literally pierced the poor thing directly in the eye, and it was working its way right into his brain. He would be able to casually stagger around for about three seconds, and then he would start paralyzing in his left side and fall over. He was nearly dead, and there was nothing I could do to save him… He would pass on into his afterlife. I would never forget how monstrous I felt that day. Trentin Lyle Stalnaker, 11Nitro, West Virginia Matthew Weaver, 8Kingwood, Texas

The Hero

“Excuse me, sir, I think you dropped this” The night was black and warm, the air thick and smoggy and choking with every breath. The girl and her father, walking home from the movies, did not speak. This was partly because of the empty humid night but mostly for some other reason, one that neither the girl nor her father understood. They were not close. The father tried but gave up when the girl avoided him or ignored him. The girl had tried but felt that he was too busy when she actually wanted to talk. “You know how parents are,” she confided into the phone earlier that day and listened as her best friend, Leslie, began bemoaning the uncaring ways of her father, who didn’t understand how much she needed to go to this concert. It really was a matter of life and death. They both knew that. The girl’s father, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, with his elbow on a newspaper and a cup of coffee continually in his hand, leaned a little closer to his friend, who had been patiently listening to the laments of the father. “You know how teenagers are,” the father said, and his friend nodded. He did know how teenagers are. Later that day, the father went into the girl’s bedroom and asked her if she’d like to go to the movies that night since they were showing Spider-Man. The girl was on the phone and had looked irritated when he came in, but now her eyes lit up and she giggled and nodded excitedly. “I love Spider-Man,” she said. “My hero is Spider-Man. That’s what Leslie and I were just talking about, isn’t it, Leslie?” and she held out the phone so that her father could hear Leslie’s assent that they had, indeed, just been talking about Spider-Man. The father was satisfied that he had done something right, but he felt out of place in the pale pink room with the posters of boy bands and movie stars everywhere, and so he left quickly. They decided to walk to the movies, since it wasn’t far and it was such a lovely day. When they got to the movie theater, the line was long. In front of them was a man with three little boys. He was lecturing them on something and holding a crumpled fist of bills. “Now, boys, sit quietly,” he said. “Act nice and grown up, all right?” “Why can’t you go in, Daddy?” the youngest asked. “I can’t, buddy,” the man said and ruffled his hair. He made a sour face. “I only got enough money for you guys.” The girl looked up at her father. He had a strange look on his face and he was fishing around in his wallet. He pulled out a ten, bent over, stood back up, and tapped the man on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, I think you dropped this,” he said. The man stared at him, open-mouthed. “Thanks, man,” he said. The father nodded at him. Then the man turned back around. “Guess what, guys? I’m comin’ with ya.” The boys cheered. The girl looked up at her father. He looked down and gave her a small, nervous smile. She looked down again. Coming home, it was very dark. The girl wasn’t afraid, and since she knew the way, she marched along, her arms swinging. Just then, a big dog leapt out of the shadows and, snarling, moved towards the girl. She screamed. Her father began to run. He had been quite a ways behind the girl, but now he caught up quickly and jumped in front of her. The dog barked at them and threw himself forward, but the father’s foot met him and he fell back. He growled again but slunk into the shadows. The girl and her father started walking again. They could hear the dog but he stayed where he was. They walked down the street, the girl still swinging her arms and trying to pretend her legs weren’t weak. She glanced around to make sure none of her friends were out and about and then she grabbed her father’s hand. The father silently thanked the dog. After they got home, the phone rang. It was Leslie. The father was standing close to the girl and heard Leslie ask how the movie was. “Fine,” said the girl and flopped down on the couch. “Oh, Leslie, you’ll never believe what happened!” The father stood a little straighter and waited to hear her account of his generosity and bravery. “Can you guess?” the girl cried. “Noo… I’ll tell you. They showed Spider-Man without his shirt on!” “Teenagers,” the father muttered and went to bed. Shyla DeLand, 12Remsen, New York Anika Knudson, 13Tumwater, Washington

Scared of the Dark

Thunder crashes. My world is turned into a dark abyss from which I will forever fall. Shadows creep around me as if monsters waiting for the right moment. Lightning strikes. For a second I see my normal room with everything in place. But then the shadows come again and engulf me in fear. A giant-eyed spider! No, it’s my electric fan. A poisonous snake! No, it’s my belt on the floor. I feel my eyelids start to drift down. No! If I fall asleep they’ll get me! A little lower. I’m too scared to sleep! Almost closed. I’m too scared to sleep! I’m too… scared… to…