Control

There is an essence in each object.

This essence,
consisting of different elements,
represents different factors of life.


Taking advantage of the essence can create beautiful things.
Farming can be done faster.
Landscaping is easier than imagined.
Natural resources are at our fingertips.


Taking advantage of this life force can put man in control of nature.
Or so he thinks….


Nature has a mind of its own.
There is a delicate balance of power between man and the environment.
And if man is taking too much control of the environment,
Nature will fight back in order to restore equilibrium.


Nature will bring about a vile wave of famine,
disaster,
plague,
and mutant creatures beyond anyone’s imagination.


Today, we are at the brink of thriving or dying.
We can bring back a world of hope,
Use the essence for the positive.
Or we can continue to move forward,
abuse the essence,
and let nature take over the human population.

The choice is yours.

The First Step

Hey Guys!

Here is a story that I made and sorry it is really long. This is a prequel of my poem, The Final Stand. I highly recommend that you read it first before reading this story, as it may help you understand this story a bit more. You can read it right here:

http://irockenglish.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-final-stand.html

Either way, thanks for reading this and hope you guys enjoy!

-Harish Karumuri

_______________________________________________________


Date: March 10, 3026


Location: Gamma Ray Cloud
R.A.: 05h 34m 33s
Dec.: +22:00:55


Houston Time: 3:48


In front of the Massive Terrier X-1 Photon Cruiser -a prime spacecraft of the fleet at my home planet of Xenonia – was a plethora of Gamma Radiation, an energy at the top of our radioactive wave chart. It powers our cities for years, if not decades. However, this particular source could run our planet for at least a century. This ball of gas and radioactivity is what our planet runs on, and without it our city would be devoid of the technological miracles that have been bestowed to us by the scientists of our planet. We have cures to many diseases, clean energy, and sustainable crops due to the energy harnessed within this destructive force. With my family being grown in the Pre-Bestowed time of Xenonia, a time when plague and famine had came across the planet, I felt a need to help our terrestrial sphere continue its prosperity.


“Captain, how’s the energy?” I hear, from my best friend and partner down at the base.


“Navtek, everything seems to be going well. Preparing to take in energy. And how many times have I told you to call me Clayton?” I hear a chuckle from his side as I begin to take out my Energy Absorbtors to take in the abundance of energy from the Gamma Radiation. Energy begins to first fuel up my spacecraft and then begins to store the excess. From my dock inside the shuttle I see the gauge of the Absorbtors slowly grow. But at the last second, the gauges start to show an excess amount of radiation and error messages along with red flashing lights everywhere. If you haven’t seen any good action movies, this means something bad is going to happen.


In this case, the gamma radiation was so much stronger than what I originally anticipated. The energy was seeping out of the Absorbtors and harming the ship itself.


“Sergeant! What is going on?” I hear through a crackly intermission.


“Navtek, it seems as if the energy source came into the infrastructure of the ship. Run a diagnostic now!”


Within seconds came a response. “The assumption you had was indeed correct. However, the radiation is much too extreme for a body to handle. It is required that the ship breaks apart for the escape of the energy as well. ”


“Then what the heck am I supposed to do?”


“First, wear the radiation armor. Then steer the ship to the coordinates you are about to receive.”


The pair of numbers are sent to me and the coordinates take me to some unknown planet. “What coordinates are these!” I scream in panic as I quickly put on the radiation exosuit. In my 5 years as an energy collector, this is my moment of most panic.


“Sergeant, getting back to Xenonia is literally death. This was the closest planet we could give you.”


With no other option, I hop on to driver’s seat and rush to the planet as fast as I can. “Houston, tell me the details of this planet!”


“Planet name: Un-own. Popula-on: Un-own. Biome: Un-now-.”
“IT’S BREAKING UP,” I scream at the top of my lungs with chaos going on around  me. Knowing that my communication was about to be cut off, I start to take precautionary actions.


“Sur-ival Chanc-: 1.2%” my computer practically shouts at me.


The two words to describe my feelings were, “Oh crap.”


“Out of all the things I hear, that’s the one thing that comes out of you, you stupid computer!? The one thing that totally can motivate me to survive!?” I practically scream.


Everything afterward is just an indecipherable mess of static. I guess cursing at the computer made my situation even worse. I throw my hands in the air in frustration and assess the predicament I was in.


I have no other option. I have to go to this planet and survive. As I wait in anticipation, my ship suddenly goes into overdrive.


Date: March 10th, 3026


Location: Planet Unknown
R.A. 06h 34m 33sec
Dec. +23:01:56


Houston Time: 4:50?


As I painfully open my eyes, I see a desolate land with withered trees outside the cockpit. Toward the back of this cockpit is a blown up and fragmented stern. The ringing sensation in my ears recedes. As I make my way into my ship and look for any undamaged gadgets, a display on ship’s front shows the outside air quality  as anything but breathable. If I go outside, I die. Luckily the cockpit itself stayed intact, retaining the oxygen inside.
I soon decide to scavenge the interior, looking for anything that I can use: mainly oxygen, food, water, and weapons. After a good while of searching, I find a small survival bunker [Thank the lords!], which gives me a week’s worth of nutrition packs with water, a small pistol with several cartridges, a blunt copper dagger, and the one thing I need the most: oxygen. There’s only one problem- I only have three days worth of it.


Three days.


I have to get out of here in three days if I ever want to see home.


See my family.


See Xenonia.


I put on my oxygen mask to head to the doors, leading to a world that I have no idea of- with no sense of what obstacles are going to come across my way, no idea of how I was going to get home, and no knowledge of surviving with any creatures that may be out there.


I take one more deep breath, and open the metal door. A screech of air releases and comes outward, causing red-orange dust to puff around and make my mask become unclear. Soon after I wipe it off, I experience a fearful awe that comes across me.


The sky was nearly dark with small sections of a yellow, glowing rock, dimly fading with a small source of light. Around and below me is a blood red crust that makes me feel miniscule, inferior, and disgraceful. Some sections seemed to be a poisonous and vicious gunk that threatened to melt the soul away from anyone who ventured into it. And across some edges were pools of molten magma, daring for something to come venture into the scalding sections. Some areas even had shriveled up plants and trees thriving for water and nutrition. In short, this place was as if Mars had crashed into the Hell.


As I walk in, I feel the swish of an arrow just above my ear.


So I fling my pistol out expecting to see the most horrifying creature alive. Well, I’m not sure if I should even call it a creature. The only thing that was visible was a charcoal black skeleton with one of the most powerful bows ever invented – a Manalyn Framed, Ferrouskyn stringed bow (Did I mention I got an A+ in Weapon Identification in college?). I had to be extremely lucky that he missed.


I shot him several times, and that only made him seem to rage even more. His body started to light up as a blinding flash came about. Then, I saw no longer a skeleton, but a flaring skeleton monster, with teeth sharper than a granite-sharpened damascus steel sword. His body grew to at least seven feet inside. When I look even closer, it seems as if it has a black smog releasing from him as his focus began to come on me.


Crap.


I began to once again shoot wildly, trying to hit every part of his evil, skeletal body. However, this came to no avail.
Then I took out the one weapon I had left. The copper dagger with a dull tip was what my life came down to. I had no other choice. I chucked the worthless piece of metal at him as hard as I could and when the knife struck him, a piercing screech shot out of him and his body slowly shriveled to ash leaving only one thing.


The copper dagger.


I slowly creep toward the body, hoping that it won’t somehow magically pop back to life in a more bloodthirsty form. But as I reach the death spot the glint of the dagger was the only thing found in the mound of dark ashes. I pick up this strange shard and begin to marvel at the power that seems to be inside.


That is, until when a hard thump of a club hits my head. The last thing I hear is a gruff man saying, “Dang it Billy! Boss told us to keep him alive!


Date: March 11th?, 3026


Location: Planet Unknown
R.A. 06h 34m 33sec
Dec. +23:01:56


Houston Time: ?:??


Hey Boss, I think the guy’s waking up.” I hear the same gruff voice.


I hear another unfamiliar voice, assuming it’s Billy’s saying, “I told you I didn’t kill him!”


I try to pretend to remain sleeping so I could eavesdrop into the conversation, but a third unfamiliar voice, “Wake up Clayton. We know you’ve already been awake for the past five minutes.”


What the. They know my name!


The same unfamiliar voice replied, “Yes. We know your name. That’s probably why I said it.”


I swear, these guys are freaking mind readers. I manage to open my eyes and sit up to find myself in a meager, metal-walled room with computers and flashing lights. Each screen had different things on it, like a security camera. The first camera had a picture of the atmosphere. The second was a picture of a fortress, seeming to be made out of a refined sort of the crust that I had crash landed on. A third screen trailed a buff man which seemed to embody evil. The man had a dark, ashen aura seeping out of his body. He was wearing obsidian armor with damascus iron boots, and a light, flexible black undercloth. His face showed a evil pair of eyes with no pupils showing. His blood-red colored hair was tied in an ornate fashion with jewels and gold, showing his vile face which was a stygian skin on top of the evilness that was already in him. The camera followed him until he reached a weak and undernourished boy. The boy moved his lips in fear, as if he had done something wrong. Then in a flash, the evil man took out a shadow iron sword and decapitated the poor little child.


I can’t say any more about what he did at that moment.


And on the fourth screen was a broken down Terrier X-1 Photon Cruiser.


“Wait a second, why is my Terrier X-1 Photon Cruiser on the screen!” I yell in frustration.


The third man who had spoken responded with, “Uuuuuuuuummmm. You should follow me.”


But then I realized I was talking without an oxygen mask. “Before you say anything else, where is my oxygen mask?”


“We went to refill it. There is oxygen constantly being filled in this base so you will be fine.”


Oh. So I guess these guys are friendly. What’s this guys name anyway?


“Yes, we are friendly. And the name is Ramhart. I am part of the Pure Blood clan. We are here in order to bring prosperity to this land.”


Once again, freaking mind readers! “What’s the name of this planet?”


“Welcome to planet Earth, or nicknamed by us as the Underworld.”


Yikes. I’ve only heard legends about this place by elders who escaped from the planet and fled to Xenonia. “And why do you want me?”


“You took down a monstrous force that kills three of our members every time it approaches. You took it down with no effort.”


“Well, I di-”


“Don’t say it was the copper dagger! There’s something inside of you that can help us. You may be…” Ramhart began to mumble off.


“What was that?”


“Oh nothing. Let me introduce you to the leaders.”


After what I think an hour has elapsed, I finally get an understanding of the “Pure Blood” clan. So this group has five different leaders, and each of them have mastered their minds and bodies and are now able to control one of the six elements. Ramhart has mastered spirit, giving him telekinetic powers, so he’s the only one who can mind read. The group also made him the general leader, so that’s who “Boss” was. A slender and fast girl, Bryze, controls the element of wind. Because of her, we have the oxygen in this area. A girl named Blaise pretty much bends fire, so she gives the heat when we need it. The Gruff guy, named Thomas, has electricity, so I think it’s self explanatory on how he helps the base. Finally, Billy can control water, so he gives the group hydration.


There was one more element which I questioned them about, but they all pretended like they didn’t hear it. It was frustrating, but I didn’t really want to get on the bad side of some people who could wreck my face in a few seconds.


There were also other members from crashed planes and refugees from the so called “Death Age” who helped the cause here as well. They didn’t manage to be able to “master” themselves, but they help out the place by developing new tools and such.


After being bored in the room I awoke to for a long time, I got up and and checked the place around. Despite what I originally thought, this place was gigantic and had intricate hallways and many different rooms. In the midst of roaming around, I heard Ramhart speaking from a small distance away. As I ventured closer to the sound, it seemed as if the leaders were having a discussion.


“Is Clayton the one?” Bryze says.


Wait, what? They’re talking about me? What do I have that can make this place great?


Then I hear a sound that I never thought that I would hear. Navtek.


“Clayton is your guy. He’s been one with nature since childhood. He loves animals and he has a huge garden back here. He will help Earth come back to how it was,” he said through a transmission.


I couldn’t hear anymore. I could not listen in. I immediately left the area. All that “unknown” crap he gave me about this planet. He knew the ins and outs of this place. He never wanted me to get back home. He wanted me to fight for some bloody cause. But then I heard my name once again.


“Clayton, I know you’re listening in on this. I’m sorry man. I had to do this. You know what? Xenonia is on its tipping point too. We may not have plague or hunger, but we have another problem. Greed. Wars are breaking out between us and many countries. There’s overpopulation. We need more room to grow. That’s why you are here.”


I just ran away as the ending click came. Thomas was coming out and trying to send a stun ball my way, but as he threw it, a trap door opened below my feet into a dim area. As I was falling, the door was going back into place and the only place I could go was down.


I seem to be waking up with paining eyes way too much within the past few, hours? Days? I don’t even know at this point. I get up off this dusty floor and I find myself in this old and decrepit room. On the far side of the room are podiums, each one with a small symbol on them. I come closer and see that the first one had a Purple circle with a four pointed star in the middle. The one after had strokes of white coming forward as if it showed a sense of wind. The one after was remarkably like a fire burst with colors of crimson and orange. The next had a lightning bolt on it with a golden yellow. The one after had waves of water.


The final one had a tree with branches that came forward at me and was calling my name. And what was really different about this one was that there was a sword handle sticking out of the top. It had an intricate carving of branches and leaves. There was a force belonging to this sword that was longing me to pull it out. I went forward to grab it and I clasp my hands around the handle.


As I tried to pull it up, the sword remained stiff and refused to come up no matter what I tried.

I pull with great strength for an extreme amount of time and begin to frustrate myself. After what I think is an hour, I give up and try to head back.


No need to though. Blaise and Bill manage to come in and help me out. They said nothing. They just get me out, take me to my room and left. Nothing more than that. I lay down on my bed, thinking about everything that happened and just fall asleep with the confusion in my head.


Date: March ??, 3026


Location: Planet Earth
R.A. 06h 34m 33sec
Dec. +23:01:56


Houston Time: ?:??


“BEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEP”


I jolt awake immediately. Red flashing lights with ear-splitting sounds scream at me. A worker tells me to go to the conference room, the same room where I heard Navtek. Everyone was squished into the area to see a giant video message from the ominous man I had seen on the security camera.


“Hello there Pure bloods,” he said with a mocking tone. “My name is Oklarth Tenebis. It has come to my attention that you are attempting to steal my kingdom. If anyone tries to steal it, I punish them. So, I have done exactly that. Take a look at these people.” Gasps came out from all around the room. Each of the clan leaders were there, tied to a pole surrounded with billions of things that could kill them. Things from flame throwers, to tear gas, to motion detecting turrets ready to fire at the slightest bit of movement. “I have heard that these people are leading this cause. If you want them back, you have one thing to do. Fight. Otherwise, say goodbye. You have 2 hours starting now. May you lose!” He followed that with the most menacing laugh heard by any being’s ears. A timer came afterwards.


I had no idea what do or or say. But then I saw a small, green pathway, similar to the one on GPS, urging me to follow it like the yellow brick road. With the shock I was in, I decide to follow it. It leads me down some stairs and directly to the sword.


The Sword.


I was about to curse and scream in frustration, but I heard a voice. A small voice.  


Ramhart.


“Pull-the-sword.” I hear his croaking voice. “Pull-the-sword.”


It all begins to click in my head. Spirit. Wind. Fire. Lightning. Water. Life. A newfound will comes into me. Ramhart is right. I will pull this sword out of this podium. I will not be stopped. These are my friends at stake. This is the planet at stake.


This is Xenonia at stake.


I will be the warrior of life.


I take a good look into the sword and grasp the handle. As I pull my hand upward, there is a copper sword ready to destroy a skeleton army.

Being Harish Karumuri

Being Harish Karumuri

When I first picked up Being Henry David by Cal Armistead through my club, Battle of the Books, I groaned. I was tired of these books about some guy who I don’t even know having amnesia who is trying to find out who he was. I mean, really? This is not a bad concept, but it is so overdone that the genre is no longer interesting. But then I started reading the first page. And the second. And the third. Before I knew it, I was reading the last page of the book, staying up until 2 o’clock in the morning to finish it.

The book is very well written, using a sense of living life to its fullest, feeling loss, and joy of a person trying to find out who he really is. This also has a scenario of what to do when life is controlling you, not the other way around.

The main character, who goes by many different names, but mainly as a character named “Hank”, wakes up at Penn Station without knowing who he is. The first person he sees is a psychopath named “Frankie,” a guy who will eat anything from ID cards to wallets and pages of books. The only items Hank has are a 10 dollar bill and a book called, “Walden” by Henry David Thoreau, an abolitionist with many careers such as an author and a poet. Thoreau has a major effect on the book by giving Hank a pathway through the story, giving him a person to connect and feel to, especially when no one was with him. This book personifies a quote by Thoreau; “Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.”

A good component of the story is the adventure. Hank has no idea about who he is or where he is from, but tries to figure out when life starts to stress him out, especially when he accidentally kills someone. Led by the book in his hands, he goes to Walden Pond in Concord, Massachusetts in order to see if he can remember who he is.

The upbeat part of the story is when Hank meets a person named Jack, who gives him shelter, food, and a job at the library. He then befriends many people, and even gets a girlfriend. Life seems to be simple, and most of all, he seems to be happy. However, he still goes searching for who he is and wants to figure out how he got to the place he was at now. Throughout the book, there seems to be a struggle between himself and a “beast” that seems to guard his memory and prevent him from remembering his past. However, once he finally gets information about himself, he freaks out trying to figure out what he should do next.

The end was very beautiful, as he begins to see everything come through. In spite of the hardships to leaving this new life, he decides to go back to who he really was and live his old life. That “struggle” is what makes the entire story very well written and enjoyable to read. This was one of those moments where I wished I could cry. It was just that moving.

As I mentioned before, the story gives a meaning behind “build your life”. You have control of your life; your life does not control you.

I feel that a story is made through emotions, actions, and interactions. The emotions are what the person is thinking behind his actions, and those actions lead into interactions with other people, other objects, and themselves. Cal Armstead has used those components very well making the book have an uplifting feeling inside of you after seeing or witnessing something emotional and inspiring.

I clearly remember the feeling that I got after I finished reading the book. I was struggling to go to sleep as the thoughts I had about the book were swirling through my head. I was and am truly glad about joining the club and deciding to give the book a shot.

As Thoreau said in Walden, “However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace.” This quote is the meaning behind this story and for that reason, and the reasons before, I highly recommend anyone and everyone to read this book.

The Witch

The Witch
By Gwyneth Schloer
 
Her frightful, green face
with warts and boils
and a crooked nose out of place.
 
Hate, neglect, revenge
surge through her cold heart;
a broken life to avenge.
 
Lies spill from her lips:
fat, worthless, and dumb;
my confidence she rips.
 
A drunken rage of
anger, loss, regret,
cause a chaotic rampage.
 
Swallowed by despair,
I grasp for a hand,
but she won’t ever care.
 
But in the end
it’s her heart, not mine,
that needs a friend.

Lost Dreams


Lost Dreams

Shivering and sweating, I woke up startled to find myself on the cold bare floor. All I could remember was my name, Serena Riley. I didn’t know what was going on. All I could see in my head were blurry pictures of random people. I felt like my heart was racing faster than lightning. As my cat-like green eyes searched across the room, a knock on the door startled me. I turned around to find myself staring at a boy with shaggy brown hair, tanned skin and piercing blue eyes.
“Serena, right?” he asked with a bright white smile. I nodded wondering how he knew my name, “I’m Charlie,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied meekly, “where am I?”
“You’re in the Caribbean,” he said.
“Oh,” I responded. I walked over to the tiny window, next to some pictures of what looked like Charlie and a girl, whom I thought I saw in my dreams. I shivered as I thought about it. “How did I get here?” I asked Charlie.
“You were unconscious in a stranded boat, right over there,” he pointed outside to the boat that was still floating in the clear blue water, “my sister, Amanda, took you to the clinic nearby.”
“What did he say?” I asked, maybe it would explain my strange dreams.
“He says that you must have hit your head on something that made you lose your memory,” he told me.
Before I could say another word, the lights turned off, books started falling from the shelves and the ground started shaking. Just then, Charlie and I looked at each other and we knew exactly what was happening. We screamed.
“Earthquake!” I turned around to see the girl in the photo, pale faced running towards us yelling.
Then I heard Charlie scream my name as the ground started to split apart. As I tried to reach for his hand I fell into an endless black pit. I plummeted towards my death, thoughts about what would happen to Charlie scared me. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Charlie, I thought. Suddenly, everything stopped.
I woke up with my heart pounding so loud that the whole world could hear it. I took a deep breath. It was just a dream, I thought, just a dream. I sighed as I looked at the time, 7:30 am, the first day of high school. Ugh high school, I thought. I threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie and ran downstairs to catch the bus before it left.
As I reached downstairs the aroma of my mom’s famous homemade chocolate chip muffins along with freshly squeezed orange juice reached my nose eagerly. I finished up my chocolate chip muffin, and looked at the time-8:00 it flashed. Oh no I’m going to miss the bus, I thought, so I gulped down my orange juice and raced to the bus stop in the nick of time. I got on the bus and sat down in the front.
Everything about today sucked, and all I could think about was my dream. When they first started I thought it was a normal nightmare, but then it kept on reoccurring day after day. All my life I’ve been homeschooled until now. I’ve actually never been anywhere other than my house, this neighborhood, and my nana’s. But then again I know it means something, this dream, it just has to.
“Earth to Serena,” a voice poked in my thoughts interrupting me.
“What,” I snapped as I turned around to see who I was talking to.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to bother you,” Rachel said quietly pushing up her glasses.
“Sorry Rachel, I didn’t see you there,” I said feeling bad. I just met Rachel a few weeks ago when she moved in; she’s okay quiet and sensitive, not my kind of friend though. I sighed and turned around staring out the bus window at the foggy sky, thinking about my dream.
And there it was the big old grayish brown building, a pile of bricks and cement, staring down at bus with the words “Melaonre High School” like a black curtain shutting out all my thoughts.
First day of high school. Yay. I think sarcastically.
I entered the halls of Melaonre High the home of Worms, and peeked at my schedule, I have pre-calculus first and my locker combo is, 35-19-6. I checked again to make sure and wrote down the combo on the side of my shoe.
I hurried to my locker to put my stuff away, when I ran into someone, dropping my binder and its contents. Embarrassed I picked up my belongings and looked up to say sorry, but then my mind went blank. It was like I couldn’t form words or speak in full sentences anymore. I just stared and stared until he looked at me and his face went as pale as mine. A part of me wanted to ask him his name and another part of me wanted to run away and hide in a dark corner. He had the same piercing blue eyes and shaggy brown hair; I swear he looked exactly like him.
Finally I started to speak, “Hi, I’m Serena Riley. What’s your name?”
“Charlie Gates,” he said hurriedly, his eyes darting back and forth as if he were looking for someone. A few moments passed by and he started to speak again, “Um I got to go talk to my sister, but um, it was nice meeting you Serena, so I’ll see you around,” he quickly said and took off.
“Ok,” I said still trying to recover from shock. This isn’t real, this isn’t possible. How do you dream of someone you never even met? None of this makes sense! I wonder worriedly. I looked back and found Charlie whispering to what looked like his sister, the girl in the photo, from the dream. And for a while it seemed as if they were staring at me trying to figure out if I were real or not. I tried to make out their emotions through their facial expressions but I got nothing. Yet, something in Charlie Gate’s eyes told me that he knew something about me that even I didn’t know about myself.

                                             

A Wall And A Stool


A Wall and A Stool
            Another minute, another hour; I had been waiting outside of the theater after my rehearsal for 3 hours now, waiting for my dad to show up. I rolled my eyes and yanked my phone charger from the outlet. Another seven mile walk with my six AP textbooks and stage binders. I packed up my stuff and rose from the bench, with my hundred-ton backpack. I began my walk at a quick pace towards a small alley through Lanston Avenue, which I had previously taken as a shortcut. I gazed up the few stars visible in the sky and drew out a cold breath. The clouds thundered above as I tried to locate safe shelter for my textbooks and me. I swiftly stepped into a small, run down building as the rain began to fall.
            “Hey!”  I looked around to find a source to the loud voice. More mumbled cries echoed through the hall. As I stored my books safely in behind a wall, I caught sight of a small, dimly illuminated opening to crawl through. I slowly made my way towards a battered, but well-lit room. A tear rolled down my cheek and my heart ached.
            Another shrill scream of an innocent girl reverberated through the room, and I grimaced. Small tied up children were being whipped, slapped, and tortured until the abusive adults reached satisfaction. I crawled backwards to the opening when I hit a wall. I tried to turn when something grabbed my legs and yanked me out.
            “Well well, what do we have here?” A thunderous voice rumbled through the building, and I trembled in the large hands of this man with horrifying tattoos and scary piercings.
            “Ha-ha! Boss will like this one, she’s fresh meat!” Another vicious voice spit, and at that, I scoffed and shoved out of his grip.
            “Ahem,” dusting off myself dramatically, “I happen to be a person, and those children,” I said pointing towards the astringent room, “happen to be innocent and have done no wrong!”
            Surprised by my sudden outburst, the men looked dumbfounded. My mother always said, ‘Hit a wall? Step on a stool and hit it right back’, I always thought that was ludicrous because in the end you’d anyways end up in pain; but today, I thought it came in handy. One of the men let out an acrimonious gruff and next thing I knew, it was pitch black.
            I woke to, what seemed as hours later, a faint room with crying children around me, some crying in pain, others whimpering in fear. A loud thunderous voice pierced through the room, “All right men! We’re done for the day, these things will be shipped in the morning, oh and include the fresh meat as well.” I gasped at his order and pulled my legs to my stomach. They killed the lights and I squirmed out of the tight grasp of the rope to pull my phone out of my right boot. I quickly dialed ‘911’ when someone appeared in front of me.
            “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Well! Not on my watch!” he kicked the phone out of my hand and my heart dropped several levels. “You think the police will come and rescue you? Well, forget about it! That’s another 35 beats for you!” He hit me, and he hit hard. I could feel the dents and cracks in my bones with the hard swings of the bat. Before I blacked out, I smiled at the next four words announced from the phone, “911, what’s your emergency?”  
About 5 years later
            “…and that’s my story. These children now are very healthy and all in school! The men who committed this injustice are also being taught a lesson, something for everyone! So yea, I hit a wall, but always keep a stool handy, because you never know when you’re gonna need it to jump back up and give it a turn around.” I smiled and accepted the applause as I hobbled off the stage with my crutch.
            “That was wonderful! It was so inspiring, I’m crying!” My mom jumped with enthusiasm as she handed me another medication to be taken. It had been about five years since the incident, and well, I was still recovering from the traumatic event with the miracle work of the doctors. The news of my story went viral, and parents of those children were so thankful they all pitched in for my operation, which was one and half weeks long. I stepped out, signing autographs and taking pictures, slowly making my way to the car. Once we got out of the large crowd of people, we headed to the Rosettes Foundation HQ; I was proud to have begun this organization after my surgery had taken place, the foundation provided for abused children and strived to put an end to trafficking schemes
            “Alexis! We have just found a small group working on Lanston Avenue,” my mind flashed back five years; “…we are sendi-“
            “No, I will go along; some people will never get it and will have to have it the hard way.” And with that, I turned towards the car.
                              So to my readers: I really hope you find your stool, in any situation.

The Cube

My challenge was capturing this cube. I had to solve this cube within 30 minutes, and if I did not complete it within the given time period, I would have failed this mission.

Let me start from the beginning. A month ago, I was given the mission to complete this relic in order to have some fun. I thought it was cool. And without knowing, I shuffled it up. The ticking bomb started. One problem though. I didn’t know it was ticking. 

Originally I thought, It’s going to be alright. I have lot of time to figure it out.

I picked it up once in a while and looked at it. I could get through one part of it, but I could never figure out the entire puzzle. So I put it down and came back to it later. This was on repeat for days and days.

I also first thought that there was no importance in this mission. I had more important things to do such as slay my grades with material stronger than any sword or build my blueprint for my fortress within 20 seconds. But defusing a bomb that I had no idea was a bomb? That was the least of my priorities.

Days and days this occurred. I saw it, I attempted to solve it, failed solving it, threw it across the room and picked it up the next day. And everyday, I was getting more curious on how it worked and how to solve it

I then saw an article about it talked about how it was sucking in the minds of many kids, teenagers, and adults.

“Oh no!” I was shocked. This bomb, this cube, this object, was  becoming a world wide toy and it was brainwashing the students all together.

“Hey Harish, can I check out that cube?” I promptly heard my sister say.

I was shocked but it was too late. The bomb had exploded and many more would come again if I didn’t stop this one.

With more panic within me, I grasped the cube with my sweaty hands. I turned each of the panels and layers on it and matched up the colors.

My hands felt frozen.

My teeth were chattering.

And all of this led to the moment I am in right now.

Right freaking now.

Each turn was more important than the last, and if I made a mistake, I would have to start this all over again.

My sister asked me 15 minutes later, “Can you help me with this puzzle?”

I responded in a panic that may have turned into a shout, “NO! THE WORLD RELIES ON ME SOLVING THIS CUBE SO DON’T DISTURB ME!” My sister went back to her workspace trying to find the missing piece of the 300 piece puzzle. 

After a countless number of twisting and turning, I saw the end of the cube near.

I also heard the mission leader in my ear say, “H you have one minute left.”

Adrenaline rushed into me and my hands started moving faster, and faster, and faster. The colors on the cube started to become a blur and I could only hope that I knew what I was doing. Then, my hands started slowing down to see what was happening. 

My finger moved as the final turn in my Rubik’s cube completed the simple colors on each side.

“Yes!” I thought when another thought dawned upon me.

“Can you help me now?” my sister said with her 300 puzzle pieces scattered over the floor.

“Agent H, your mission, do you choose to accept it?”

A Rude Awakening


A Rude Awakening


As a child, everyone grows up with this fantasized view of the world where everyone and everything is nice and perfect. Parents love their children, bad people go to jail, and anyone who misbehaves gets in trouble. Many children wake up from this sugar-coated dream at a young age, including me. When I found out that my family wasn’t as perfect as I thought, it altered my view of the world completely.

It was a pretty average day for a five year old, with my dad driving me from my mom’s house back to his house. We were driving down that winding road that has all of those lush green trees that can take your breath away with one look. With the windows cracked open, you could smell autumn making its way throught the air, with the warm colors close behind. I was struggling to regain control of my hair as gusts of wind blew it into a mess; silence filled the car. Our conversation about school that day had just ended when, in that silence, I recalled a televison show episode I had watched earlier, That’s So Raven. In the episode I wathced, Raven goes through a situation where she thinks her parents might get a divorce. I had no idea what the word divorce could possibly mean at the time, so I continued to watch the show. By curiously watching the show, I eventually guessed that divorce was when the mom and dad seperated. Something abou that term was bothering me since I left my mom’s house, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I then started to connect the dots and notice the similarities to my life. A million thoughts raced through my head all at once. Could my parents be divorced? Am I adopted? If they’re divorced, why do I have four parents? Are my parents kidnappers? I couldn’t imagine my mom and dad ever being happy together. I then realized that it must be true because I knew I looked too much like them to have been kidnapped or adopted. I then asked the dreaded question, “Are you and Mommy divorced?”

My dad showed no surprise towards the question and calmly answered, “Yes”, explaining the details about how and why they had seperated. He also confirmed that I was indeed not adopted or kidnapped at any point in life. Initially, I wasn’t as shocked as expected because everything fit like a puzzle. It explained why I traveled between houses, why I had more than two parents, and why my parents didn’t get along. This moment gave me the rude awakening that no one and no family is as perfect as it’s thought to be. I also learned that just because a family isn’t picture perfect, doesn’t mean they aren’t a family.

The Secret

The Secret

There’s only thirty more seconds left. Why does time have to go so fast? A movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. It’s Tommy shooting a basket with a balled up piece of paper. “Hey, Kate! You see that? Only one try!”

I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of my reaction, so I just roll my eyes and continue my staring contest with the clock. Three… Two… One… The annoyingly loud bell screeches into everyone’s ears. Whooping and hollering is taking place in the already crowded hallways. I slowly pack up my school books, papers, and pencil, delaying the inevitable without being too obvious. I quickly glance around the room to find the teacher looking at me. Oh, no. I attempt getting out of the classroom before he tries to talk to me, but fail.

“How are you doing, Kate? You seemed a little sad today.” I want to say terrible, awful, depressing, but as usual, I say the socially acceptable thing.

“I’m fine, Mr. Moore! Just a little tired! Have good day!” My fake happiness is expertly plastered all over my face.

“Okay. You too,” he replies with delight in his voice. I sprint out the door, hugging my textbooks, with my head down. The crowd is moving like a school of fish towards the front entrance. I hate Fridays. People get way too happy about the weekend and the stupid Friday-night football games. The games are just another excuse to exaggerate the social class difference between the upper-class, jocks and cheerleaders, and the lower-class, me.

After what seems like one minute, I find myself getting off the bus. I start taking slug-like steps in the direction of my house. Even when walking the slowest speed humanly possible, I still reach my house in only eight minutes. Not long enough. I wish time could stand still, even if only for a little while. I silently insert the key into the door lock and turn it to the right. The front door noisily creaks open, making my heartbeat skyrocket. I walk through the doorway and head towards the stairs. As I’m creeping quietly through the house, I catch a glimpse of my mom who has passed out on the couch again. I routinely walk over and check her pulse. It’s still beating away, so I pick up the bottles of alcohol littering the room. I carefully place the bottles in a trash bag, to be thrown out later. Even her faint breath can be heard in the silence of the house. It’s kind of funny how such a damaged home can be unbelievably loud at one point and silent the next.

The Final Stand

Read the poem while playing the video.
We are the last hope. 
We are the chance that the world has. 
This item, this sword, this energy, this responsibility, 
that lies within my hands, 
Can either destroy this place that we call home, 
or bring it back from these ashes. 
As the skeletal warriors enter, 
With the king of the evilness watches from above,
I wield the sword high at my head. 
If I am expected to save the last hope of humanity, I shall fight. 
I shall not stop doing so until everyone of these vile beings has been destroyed. 
The battle goes on for days and nights. 
Weeks and years. 
Years and decades. 
The hunger intensifying, 
The fatigue excruciating, 
The cuts bleeding, 
as the army of one thousand , 
the army of one million, 
the army of one billion, 
fights the lone warrior. 
With the acidic rain pouring on my head 
With withered trees shriveled up along the ground,
with the toxic air within the sky, 
I see hope. 
I see hope of a better land. 
I see hope of a peaceful land. 
I see hope of success. 
So after each fall, 
each strike, 
each hit, 
I grip this sword tighter, 
I hold my head higher,
and continue to fight 
The fallen have seen me, 
and the gods have praised me. 
I will join the clan of the pure-bloods. 
The people of the elements, 
the only people to have lived to their fullest, 
and the only people to have mastered their mind. 
I will liberate this land. 
I will liberate this country. 
And I will liberate this earth.  
With each of these thoughts, 
The glow the sword increases, 
and the pain inside me fades. 
I feel forces within me. 
I feel spirits rising through. 
I feel the weight of my legs disappear, 
As the last of the skeletal warriors fall to the sword in my hand,
And the king flees in shock fearing what will happen next.

I fall to my hand and knees, 
crying, 
then weeping. 
The joy I had encountered was relief. 
And around me, the first trees and rivers started flowing. 
And the new world begins. 
And as the leader of the pure bloods reaches for my hand, 
I grab it, 
As we begin a new life, 
of new beginnings, 
and more hope.