Category: Personal Narrative

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All I Want for Christmas  is My Two Teeth, By Aryan Deorah


I was running around my house energetically and excitedly driving my parents insane. It was 10:00 pm, which was well past my bedtime as a 5 year-old, on Christmas Eve, and all I was singing was, “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, my two front teeth, my two front teeth.” For most 5 year olds, they sang this song because they had lost their baby teeth in the front and want their permanent or “adult” teeth to grow in. However, for me, I sang this song because I had no front two teeth. Matter in fact, I never had them. I was born without my baby or permanent top incisors, so I couldn’t exactly talk properly, let alone pronounce my name correctly. An average school day would consist of me asking the teacher about something, she saying I can’t understand, and all of my classmates laughing at me and making fun of me. Also, in school, I would have to attend speech, where I would have to work on sounds, often with other kids who had speech problems or even mental disabilities. I wanted to get done with speech as soon as possible, so I attended often. My speech problems made it hard for me to communicate with anyone and get and keep friends. I became desperate for friendship, so I hung out with people who didn’t wanted to hang out with me and I became friends with people who were very rude and disrespected me, something which happened very often up until recently. Inside my home, I was very talkative and outgoing, but at school or anywhere else, I barely talked and often regretted when I did. This caused two very contrasting characters within myself, one who was me, and one who wasn’t. Even though I had a very supportive and understanding family, I felt like know one understood me, literally and metaphorically.


Things began to change when I went into later elementary school and middle school, for better or for worse. I had moved from Pennsylvania to Virginia, and though I missed my old home, I knew that I had a new slate as far as communication and making new friends. I began to think that my speech was great and almost normal, when it wasn’t anywhere close. I started to reject speech therapy and think that I was different and better than the other kids in speech, and eventually, I barely attended. I started to be more outspoken and talkative, and though that was good for my self-esteem, my two characters began to merge into one, I began to become more arrogant about speech and everything else in general. When the dental work on my teeth began in 6th grade with braces, I thought everything was going to be fixed, that I would be able to talk properly. However, the hard reality hit me. Kids would imitate my voice and mock it. They would keep asking me to repeat things just for a laugh. I started to be, angry, occasionally letting my anger out physically on my bullies. That, quite obviously, made the situation worse, because they overpowered me, and I thought there was no-one I could tell because I was the one who started the fight. I had more friends overall than I did in elementary school, but I made less long-term reliable friends. I started to become irritated with myself. After all, why did I, out of so many people, have to end up with this problem? I began to think there was no way to fix it. I became wallowed in self-pity, and I couldn’t shake it.

Finally, here I am, at the beginning of high school. I am not as arrogant and irrational like I was in middle school, and I have higher self esteem than I did in elementary school. I have made many friends, and even though there is no way to tell if they will be long term, I have a good feeling. I attend speech therapy often and my speech therapist is great, and I finally enjoy speech. Matter in fact, I have become friends with some of the other kids in my speech therapy group, who I previously would have thought insubordinate. Because of that, my speech is very close to normal and less than half of the people I meet notice or mention it. Barely anyone makes fun of me; I am just a happy, normal, but not really, teenager. The best part is that I am getting a special procedure so I will get my two teeth inserted near Christmas. But, is this really what I wanted? I love going to speech therapy, yet I am almost done. My speech is very good, and I already know what it feels like to have those twoteeth, because of a special retainer. To be honest, it isn’t very flattering. Not having those two teeth is normal for me, and the procedure may make my speech worse. I have realized, most people can’t even tell that I am missing two teeth. What is the point of spending a lot of money and getting my two teeth inserted? It feels so weird that now that I am about to receive something I have been craving ever since I could remember, and I don’t really want it. It leaves me asking,”Is all I want for Christmas my 2 teeth?”

Personal Narrative

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July 5th, 2016
Ramstein Air Force Base, Ramstein, Germany


7:30 am 3 hours before we had to leave
“Time to wake up, Ashlynn,” my mom said while opening the door to my room.
As I opened my eyes, I realized today was the day. The day my whole life changes, again. I didn’t want to move, but I had to. Leaving behind a life I was familiar with was always hard. I could feel it swiftly building up in the pit of my stomach. The panic always came with this feeling. I didn’t want to cry. Crying didn’t change the fact of what was happening. Sitting up to get ready I just went through the motions.


Walking into the dinky kitchen in our tiny TLF housing my mom said 2 hours and 30 minutes before we had to leave “Your dad went and got Dunkin Donuts for everyone”
All I could do was nod my head and walk past. The donuts only put more heaviness into my heart. The Dunkin Donuts place in the Exchange just opened. I mean I’m probably going to get it in America, but it just reminded me of the experiences I could’ve had with my friends there. My brother and sister were sitting on the couch watching Teen Titans Go. Looks like they had everything they needed. Nobody was at the table, so I sat there enjoying my donuts the best I could.
“Ash you have 15 minutes to get the rest of your stuff together hurry up” my dad expressed.


“I know, dad,” I exclaimed, getting up to throw away the rest of my trash.


I left my phone and kindle plugged in for a few more minutes. The time flew by; next thing I know I’m walking outside to where our friends are standing. Mr. Andrew and Ms.  Kim the parents of one of my best friends.


“Hey Ashlynn,” Ms.Kim said in her overly happy voice.


Chucking my bags in the back her car I walked over to Mr.  Andrew’s car to hop in. I waited and waited. Every second that passed the feeling would keep growing. Hate is a strong word, but I used it for these feelings. I felt anxious, sad, stressed. “Finally,” I thought as my dad and Mr.  Andrew rushed into the car. I looked at all the familiar things as we passed by. All the houses were exactly the same color, but each had its own unique feel to it. Kind of like a million different stars in the sky, each one looks the same when you look at it from the ground, but when you got closer you could see the difference . The dancing and karate studio were exactly the same color as the houses.Next door,  the grass of the soccer field was as green as Mike Wazowski, you know that green guy from Monsters Inc. Donnelly Park was right next to the soccer field, and it was a couple of blocks down from my house. This park wasn’t any fun anymore after they took out the slides on the hill. The streets were all named after a state form the US. Mine was Vermont Circle, the street I lived on for the past 4 years. My house 1063 B was right across from Mr.  Andrew’s and Ms.  Kim’s.


Gabby and her sisters were waiting outside on the porch to say goodbye. Even though I’ve only known Gabby for a year and a half, it feels like I’ve known her my whole life.


“Hey Ashlynn,” Gabby said while I got out of the car.


“Hey Gabby,” I tried my best to fake a smile but I couldn’t.


“I guess this is goodbye.” Gabby exclaimed.


“I guess so,” I said.


Hugging her family was easier than hugging her. Blinking the tears back I pulled away. I smiled one more time at my best friend,  a person who I’ve grown close to in the past year and a half.
By the time we got to the airport we had an 1 hour and 30 minutes. Walking towards the front I saw Jaycee and her family standing there. Before walking in, my parents wanted a picture of all the kids.


“Say goodbye Germany,” Mrs. Jennifer said while taking her picture.


Reaching the stairs we had to find our gate. Stopping by another gate we said goodbye. I saved hugging Jaycee for last. As I hugged her she started crying.


“ You’re gonna make me cry,” I said.


“ I can’t help it,” she exclaimed between each heart wrenching sob.


“This isn’t a goodbye though this is just a see you later,”  I told her trying to hold back my own  tears.

As we waved goodbye one last time we turned to walk up the stairs. Waiting in the long line at security was hard. 1 hour and 30 minutes turned to 1 hour. By the time we sat down in the waiting area we only had to wait 15 minutes. The time finally hit 11:00; we could board now. The past 4 years were the best of my life. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I met friends I’ll have for the rest of my life. As I sat on the seat when the plane started to take off I realized it was time to let go. So I did. A new adventure was going to start when this plane landed. Who knows what it would bring? It was finally time for a new start.

Meeting My Idols By: Sameer Sawhney

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Block: 4

Meeting My Idols

I have been obsessed with basketball since day one.  One of the most memorable nights of my life was the day when I met the Cleveland Cavaliers team.

It was about two years ago I went to the Verizon Center to watch the Cavs take on the Wizards.  My brother, a diehard Cavs fan, started a conversation with a security guard.  The security guard told my brother that Cavs fans were not very common in DC.  He then gave my brother backstage passes to meet the players.

After the game, we went to the bus boarding area.  We were waiting for about 45 minutes, then the staff came.  After that, the coaches that we see on TV were coming out of the tunnel.  I was already having trouble containing myself but then came the players.

Professional players, people who I look up to were walking by us to board their bus.  They were very friendly.  Matthew Dellavadova had a fifteen minute conversation with the people next to us.  We got a picture with him.  Then Anderson Varejao, my brother’s favorite player, came.  He was very nice and also took a picture with us.  After that came NBA All Star, Kyrie Irving!  I couldn’t believe it.  This was one of the best nights of my life.

I did not want to leave but the players were already on their bus and were about to leave.  We left and all I could think about was that night.  I was excited go home and brag to my friends. 

The First Week of High School

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Sharan Patnaik              
September 7th,2015
English
Mr.Koch
The First Week of High School
The night before school started I was tossing and turning in bed as thoughts and questions flooded my head. Are the teachers mean? How much homework will they give us? Is high school anything like the movies…High School Musical, Mean Girls, Disney Channel, Clueless, and Grease?
The next morning as I was getting ready I couldn’t help but think about how I’ve changed since the beginning of middle school. From my sense of style and always being studious and quiet, I’ve broken out of my shell. I think that starting my first day in high school is going to be a great chapter in my life and will help me figure out who I am. I’ve also realized that my first day is nothing like the movies at all. When a popular person walks in the school, nobody makes a path for them like they do in High School Musical and Clueless.  Walking through the halls I’ve also noticed that everybody has a friend, or people that are willing to be one. Jocks with varsity jackets don’t actually shove small geeky lowerclassmen into lockers.
The second day of school was a little easier to adjust to. During the day all the teachers would be doing some “get to know you” games and explaining the rules, informing us about supplies that we needed to get. Same old boring stuff, which we need to listen for seven hours straight, for two days. Talk about fun.
Lunch is really different because now you don’t have teachers walking around monitoring you like you’re two. You don’t have to raise your hand to get up and you can sit wherever you want. Once again lunch in realistic high school doesn’t consist of the populars bullying you if you sit at their table. There is no second story in the cafeteria where someone will be singing and a flash mob will start, then everyone stares at one person yelling “NO NO NOOO STICK TO THE STATUS QUO!” Everyone encourages each other to try new things.
Wednesday I realized that teachers expect you to do your homework neatly, assignments on time, straight A’s, check their website because everything is online now. And you have no excuse not to get it done.
That night lying in bed, I thought to myself, this is freshman year, your third day in high school. You will most likely not be able to spend time with Danny Zuko, the T Birds and Pink Ladies at the racetrack every day. You won’t be able to go shopping every weekend or not worry about homework or the test you have that day. Yes there will be time for fun as long as you aren’t sabotaging the mean girls. Nobody has two bright pink lockers with extra clothes hanging, shelves, and  a mirror etc. There is more to high school than jocks, cheerleaders and stereotypes.

Friday finally came along and everybody was exhausted. It seemed to be the longest first week of school ever. High school is fun and you have freedom, more choices to do things. People are there to help you if life ever gets tough, teachers you can trust, friends you can count on. High school isn’t like the movie at all. In the first week of high school I learned that it’s the place where we make mistakes, get our hearts broken, our brains stretched beyond capacity, but it’s also the time to be adventurous, daring, spirited. It’s where you find out who you are. This is the place where our lives change forever.

4 bases, 3 strikes, 2 teams, 1 winner

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            When I step on the freshly raked field, feeling the dirt under my cleats, I feel proud of the game that I play. I belong on the diamond. The smell of the newly cut grass, the sound of metal cleats on concrete, the feeling after you make a big play, and hearing everyone cheer for you is a special feeling.
            I started playing t-ball when I was five years old. It has always been a part of my life. I was so proud of myself when I was seven and made the boys baseball all-star team. I was the only girl in league history to play with the boys. One of my most memorable moments, however, is when I hit my first over-the-fence homerun. I’ll never forget, the feeling running around the bases and rounding third base, seeing all of my teammates crowding around home plate, waiting to celebrate with me. Or when I turned my first double play, flipping the ball from my glove to our second baseman as she tapped the bag with her foot and fired the ball over to first base. I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs in softball, but I hope to continue doing what makes me happiest for a long time to come.

            If you play softball you will share some smiles, but with that also comes times when you will shed some tears. There are great wins and tough losses. The game can change in just a minute. I will always remember when I was ten, playing in the USSSA World Series tournament, coming back from being down in the bottom of the last inning, going into ITB (international tie breaker), and then becoming the World Series champions. On the other hand, I’ll never forget winning the entire game in the PONY Nationals tournament and then falling behind in the last inning and giving them the game. Softball comes with mixed emotions, hard work, and a lot of dedication, but I am willing to take the risks. I hope softball will always be a part of my life because I don’t know what I would do without it.

By: Becca Ludowig

Academic Team: The Time I Will Never Forget

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Academic Team: The Time I Will Never Forget
       When I was in seventh grade, I had just moved to California and I was starting in a new school.  New places and new faces were all around me.  Later in the year, I joined the school’s academic team at my mom’s urging.  At the time, I didn’t know just how much I would become a part of it and how far I would go with it.  That year, I didn’t participate much, but I gained the insatiable passion that lead me to join as soon as it started the following year. I wanted to make it my one thing that I would be remembered for at my middle school, since I was an eighth grader and I hadn’t really made myself known.  I later found out just how big the academic team would become, and how much I grew.
       When it started in my eighth grade year, I immediately had an edge since I had experience from the previous year.  I combined my previous knowledge along with honing my reflexes in order to be the first to answer the question.  We had buzzers that would signal the judges if someone knew the answer, and it had a button to do so.  However, you also had to be faster than the other team, too.  I was slowly growing in skill within academic team, but academic team almost ended before anything could get going.  The previous coach was no longer going to run academic team, and that meant we wouldn’t be able to continue with academic team.  So I got to talking with one of the assistant coaches about who would be our new coach and I had an idea.  It was a slightly crazy idea, but I was so determined to get academic team to continue on that I went with it.  The person who I thought of as a new coach was not a teacher or a staff member, but someone close to me.  I chose my own mom as the new coach of academic team, since she has shown how effective of a leader she is numerous times.  I was at the time thinking that we would do pretty good, but not super well.  However, destiny decided to prove me wrong.
      
       The assistant coach agreed with the decision (which made me feel good) and soon enough, my mom was running the show for academic team.  Since she was coach, I was able to practice much more intensely at home, even practicing while at breakfast and dinner on school days and every once in a while on the weekends.  I practiced for a long time, eventually becoming the captain, or lead player, for our “A” team.  We had made four teams to compete in an upcoming NAQT-qualified tournament that was close to us.  The winner would go to the National Tournament that was to be held in Atlanta, Georgia.  Our school had never won the local tournament, as there was a math and science academy that always won called Mesa Verde.  Our teams we had created were labeled as Teams A, B, C, and D, with skill determining the members of each team.  The A team was the best of our entire academic team, and at the bottom was the D team.  However, that doesn’t mean our D team was a pushover either.  They were quite good, but not as skilled as the A team was.  So, I was kind of the best player on the entire team for our school, since I had not only the best stats from other mini tournaments, but I also specialized in more areas than most of the team.  However, the challenge was on to try and win this qualifier tournament.  And it wasn’t going to be easy.
       When the day of the qualifier tournament arrived, all of us were both excited as well as nervous.  My mom was keeping everyone calm with positive conversation, but I still felt edgy.  After meeting up at our school, we packed our things and went to the tournament.  Upon arrival, we immediately saw the teams we dreaded to face; nearby were the teams from Mesa Verde, and they had a lot of their heavy hitting players stacked on their teams.  Just seeing them made some of us really nervous.  In spite of this tension, we decided to calm our nerves with some practice.  We went through packet after packet to make sure we were at our 100% best.  Then, the tournament began.
       We went through match after match, each filled with a series of 20 questions.  You had 10 seconds to answer and they were followed by a three part bonus if a team got it correct.  We came close to losing on several occasions, but we managed to keep a winning streak throughout.  Halfway through, we could hear nervous chatter from upcoming teams, because we essentially made ourselves a big representation by being undefeated.  We continued on, pulling win after win.  Finally, the tournament had reached the final match, where every other team that didn’t make it gets to watch the two final teams go head to head in a heated contest.  We were one of the final teams to make it there.  However, our opponents were the #1 team from Mesa Verde, which was the one we saw earlier stacked with their heaviest hitting players.  They had equal status to our undefeated streak, as they have always won the qualifier tournament, and have done so for at least 4 years.  No one stood a chance against them.  But here we were, in the belly of the beast and only one way out.  Winning.
       We sat at our designated area, as did Mesa Verde.  When both teams were ready, the onslaught of questions began.  I was insanely nervous, and my adrenaline was pumping.  The hardest thing is you can’t see your current score or theirs, so you were left in the dark as to how well you were doing.  The only time we knew was when it was halftime, where the coaches talked with the teams and enforced strategies, as well as give them a score update.  At the time, my mom said that it was a close game, but that we were 5 to 10 points behind them.  I was surprised, since Mesa Verde usually won by a landslide victory in the past.  Determined to win, we resumed with the match.  It was as if I had been going on autopilot after that.  I just answered question after question, beating Mesa Verde to the buzzer and singlehandedly carrying the team.  When the questions were over, they said good game and that it was a close match.  Everyone in the audience got on their feet and went wild, and I thought it was because Mesa Verde won.  That was, until my mom ran up to me and said that we won.  I was ecstatic, and so was my team.  We saw that there was only a 15 point difference in the scores, and that we were the champions of the tournament.  After that, everything just flew by for me.  But I knew one thing.  We beat the old champions, and that we were going to the National Tournament.  That was just as fun, but that’s a story for another time.

The Slide of Doom

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Ethan McFerren
Mr. Koch
English 9H
March 11, 2015
The Slide of Doom
            It all started one fine summer day.  My cousin Nicholas invited my brother and me to spend the weekend at his house. “Tomorrow we are going to go to Six Flags to hang out and enjoy the rides,” my aunt announced while we were clowning around. I was super excited because I had never been to Six Flags and was interested to see what types of rides they had. The next day, my aunt drove my brother, my cousin, and I to the amusement park. We tried out all sorts of rides and loved them all. Then, my cousin said that he wanted to go to the water park. We all agreed and tried out some fun water slides. Soon, my brother said he wanted to try out a series of water slides where people get in a tube and get dropped down to the slide. Before I knew it, I was climbing up the long, wooden, winding stairs to the slide.
            We climbed higher and higher; the stairs seemed to go up as high as heaven itself. I am afraid of heights, so soon I bent down and started to clutch the partly blue carpeted stairs. “This wasn’t such a great idea after all,” I thought.
“Ethan, are you ok?” asked my brother eventually.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured him.
“Are you sure, you can go down with Nicky if you can’t handle it,” replied my brother.
I just shook my head. Fight your fears, fight your fears. A man in a black swim suit started to shoot me uneasy glances as I started to moan quietly. Eventually, I reached the top of the tower of stairs. I gripped the railings with my white, shaking knuckles. Soon, my brother and I chose a tube individually. I hesitated for a few seconds. How bad can it be? I stepped inside the tube. I glanced at the woman, a lifeguard, with her tan cap, controlling the ride, waiting to push the button. She just smirked, as if she knew what I was about to go through. Suddenly, the glass door curled shut. It was just me with my arms folded across my chest, waiting. A robotic voice soon announced, “Five, four, three, two, one.” At the last second, I peered at my brother, who had a wild grin plastered across his face. I whimpered, barely audible, like a lost and abandoned puppy. Then, the drop.
            The drop, or maybe I should call it an utter fall, was so abrupt, so quick, so painful. The floor was literally removed away from my bare feet, and I plunged into the water slide at something that felt like 1,000 mph. I crashed down with a thud and a grunt. Immediately, I felt uncomfortable and knew something was wrong. I struggled to lift my head, trying to escape this nightmare. Only it was real, very real. As soon as I attempted to lift up my head, it was relentlessly and brutally smashed into the metal slide. Bam, bam, bam, bam, BAM! My head started to throb in pain and agony, so I started to cry out: “Jesus, Jesuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuus!” My head pounded uncontrollably. Over and over. There seemed no end to this freak slide. I started to think in my head, “I’m dead.” My family will mourn.  What is left of my dilapidated head and body will be lifted out of the slide. They will close down the park permanently and tear down this foolish ride. Whipping from side to side, I could do nothing. I was helpless, at the mercy of this monster. And then, it finished. I lifted up my abused body out of the slide. Another park lifeguard stood near. “How was it, did you like it?” she questioned.
“Yee-aah” I answered. I stumbled and tripped my way over to my family.
“How was it?” asked my aunt.
“Terrible!” I replied.
She started to crack up and laugh uncontrollably. “My head hurts so much, it kept on getting slammed down,” I said. “Well, you’re supposed to keep your head down and your arms crossed the whole time. That was most likely your problem,” my brother stated. “Oh” was the only thing I could answer. I trudged my way around the park the rest of the time. When I got into my aunt’s car and drove home, I knew. I would remember the Slide of Despair forever.

Five Minutes

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It’s getting to that time of the year, Thanksgiving, when families get together and the feasts begin. While in other parts of the world, others are fighting for a grain of rice. 805 million people worldwide, imploring for one meal, to help feed his/her families. 912,790 of which are centralized here in Virginia, those who struggle to find a meal every night. These numbers are incredibly high, and extended research exposed me to a whole other world, to a world full of depression and loss of hope.
          But it took five minutes. Five minutes that had fed hundreds of families on their Thanksgiving night. It was one night that I was coming home with my dad, when the subject of unfortunates came up. We talked about the luxuries I was blessed to grow up with, while another girl my age somewhere was broke, homeless, and hungry; and that’s when a light bulb lit up. I asked my dad about a food drive, something that could really help local food shelters. And in an instant, something inside me triggered, it was that night I researched and contacted several shelters, and finally received an answer. Over the course of the next couple days, I worked hard to receive permission from the sponsor and my community HOA. After that, I got to work on advertising, and asked one of my friends to help put out flyers with me. Countless nights went by, and the word was spreading quickly. It’s the Thanksgiving Food Drive! Another flyer to another mailbox. When finally the day arrived to go around and collect the cans, a newsflash came up, it was that day that the boy scouts were also conducting a food drive! And from there a little of me was let down, but I was fully determined to get my shelter a substantial load. It took four and half hours, going door to door, lugging hundreds of cans; but along with the help of a few other friends, we got to 250+ houses with at least 500 cans. At last, we took these boxes to the Blue Ridge shelter, and handed it over to an auctioneer. As we drove out, we noticed people from all over walking, or biking into the church lot, freezing and starving, and at that moment I realized that I was the reason one less person would have  to suffer on their Thanksgiving night.



All it takes is 25 cents to provide a nutritious meal for a person in need.
To help out, visit www.wfp.org

(Yes, I realize it’s February)

The Cube

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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?”