1st Place
Sam Morgan
North Hall Middle School
A New Life
SECTION 1
It is finally your first day of 6th grade.
You sit staring out the window of your mom's car aimlessly as the trees and the beautiful rolling hills pass by. You're still not used to the scenery; you've only lived here for a few weeks. You come from a place not of gorgeous views like this, but of impressive goliaths of buildings, and of concrete walls surrounding you, suffocating you.
Needless to say, the move from New York City to the small town of Anderson, Georgia has been a welcome culture shock.
It's not that you hate people, or crowds. On the contrary, you love people. They just sometimes… make you nervous. You can’t explain it, but it’s hard for you to get to know new people.
So far in school you have had trouble, socially speaking, but today, you decide, I am going to make a friend.
That’s your goal, and it could turn out to be a difficult one. A lot of people may know each other from their elementary schools, you think, but no one will know everybody. Maybe no one will even notice I’m not from this state.
You realize a moment later that this was nothing but wishful thinking. Of course they would notice. Your thick New York accent will attract immediate attention from your classmates. Welcome attention, you decide. I want to be noticed, you tell yourself, yet a part of you does not.
In your car, you approach the school building. You feel apprehensive yet excited as the car pulls into the school parking lot.
“I think you let me out right at the front there,” you say to your mom, who looks confused as to what the system is.
Sure enough, as you say this, a red car pulls up to the front of the school and a child gets out. This is followed immediately by another car doing the same thing. Your mom follows suit and before you know it you are stepping out of the car.
You feel your heart beating quickly as you enter the school through the front doors. Time somehow seems to move very fast as you follow a series of signs directing you and all of the other sixth graders to their classrooms.
You get to your hall and after a moment of searching you find a room labeled “Mrs. Miller.” Your homeroom. You walk in and set down your things; you’ll get your locker at some point in the day, and then you won’t have as many things to carry around. For now, you look around the room. It is clear that three distinct groups seem to be forming among the students; three elementary schools feed into this middle school.
You consider going over to talk to one of these groups of people, but then you consider the fact that you could also just sit down in your seat and wait for the class to begin.
-If you want to talk to the people standing in one of the groups, read SECTION 2 next.
-If you would rather sit at your desk and lie in wait for the class to begin, skip ahead to SECTION 3 now.
SECTION 2
You swallow your fear and approach one of the groups.
You walk into the group and instantly feel singled out and out of place. It feels as if time stops for a moment as many of the kids in the group look up and stare at you.
“Hi,” you say, making an awkward attempt at conversation. You introduce yourself. Many just stand awkwardly for a moment but one steps forward and offers his hand to you. You shake it as he says, “Hi. I’m Kent.” Kent is not tall, but he is not short, and when you shake his hand he seems genuine and kind. He is the kind of person that people are instantly drawn to not for popularity or for the superficial, but for the kind of magnetic charisma that is impossible to resist by boys and girls alike. You can already tell that Kent is going to fare very well socially in middle school.
Kent introduces you to the rest of the group. There’s Charlie, Amelia, Mia, Austin, and Josh. You shake hands with all of them, some more comfortably than others, and attempt to explain yourself.
“I’m not from one of the three elementary schools that everyone else are from.”
You say this and look around the circle, where you simply see nods of understanding and some inquizitive looks. You attempt once again to explain yourself.
“I’m actually not from within this state.”
You’re about to start to say something else when the girl you recognize as Mia speaks.
“I could tell by your, uh…” She nervously points to the general area of her mouth and throat, trying to indicate something. She seems a little uncomfortable now that she has started speaking, as if she wishes she hadn’t, but you understand what she means.
“Oh, that would be my accent.”
A few people laugh as she nods her head.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I mean, to me, I sound normal, and the rest of you have accents.”
This gets a few laughs, but they are abruptly interrupted by the sound of a tone coming from the ceiling. Everyone looks confused for a moment but soon discover that it is the time in the morning when students recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
“...With liberty and justice for all.”
After the pledge you look around your new group of friends.
“We’ll see you at lunch, then?” Kent says.
“Sure! That sounds great.”
The next few hours of your day are okay, but just that: okay. As you walk into the lunchroom, you look around. There are many seats waiting to be filled, but as soon as you walk in you see waving from your new friends. You want to go sit with your friends, but a small, defensive desire sets in and another part of you would like to go sit alone. You weigh your options.
-To decide to sit with your friends, read SECTION 7 next.
-To sit alone, skip to SECTION 5.
SECTION 3
Your nervousness gets the better of you and you go to your desk. You sit down and watch as people socialize happily, and you feel a certain jealousy for them.
I said that I was going to make a friend today.
All of a sudden you feel confident and determined and you consider going to talk to one of the groups once again.
-To make an attempt at socialization with some of the kids, read SECTION 2.
- To change your mind and sit and wait once again, read SECTION 6.
SECTION 4
“No, thanks,” you say. Kent looks somewhat hurt.
“Okay,” he says. “You just let us know if you ever need us. We’ll be right over here.”
He walks away and you can almost see defeat in his body language. A part of you wishes you had gone to sit with him.
The rest of your day passes by uneventfully. Kent is in many of your classes, but you never speak to him. After an agonizingly long day, you find yourself getting into your mom’s car, on your way home.
“How was your day?” You know that she can tell there’s something wrong.
“It was okay.” You don’t want to talk about it.
Your mom looks at you for a second, and then focuses on the road. She looks back at you.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
You pause for a second.
“I wish… I wish I had made different decisions today. I wish I could… I wish I could turn back the pages and do it again.”
The End.
You can turn back the pages and do it again. To see how things could have turned out if you had made different choices, return to Section 1.
SECTION 5
That small feeling within overcomes you and you venture off to find a seat by yourself. After a few moments of sitting there Kent comes and stands beside where you are sitting.
“Hey,” he says. “Wanna come sit with us?”
You glance over at the group which he gestures to, and they are still waving at you. They did make you feel very comfortable and at home before…
-To go over and sit beside the group, read SECTION 7.
-To remain alone, read SECTION 4.
SECTION 6
You decide to sit and wait. The class begins, and ends quickly. Nothing eventful takes place for that class, and then in the next, and in the one after that. But in your 4th period, something different happens.
“Hi.”
You look up, startled, as you see a boy your age standing beside your desk. You recognize him from another class; his name is Kent.
“Hello,” you say, nervously. You introduce yourself and he does too.
“Let me introduce you to my friends,” he says, and he leads you over to a group of kids standing clumped together. He introduces you to all of them. There’s Mia, Josh, Austin, Amelia, and Charlie. You greet them anxiously as well, and then Kent gestures at a seat.
“Wanna sit with us for this class?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah, okay. Sure,” you say, barely managing to make words come out of your mouth.
Before you know it, you are walking into the lunchroom and you see that all of your friends from class are crowded around the end of one table, waving for you to join them. You would like to sit with them, but a small part of you also just wants to be alone.
-To join them, read SECTION 7.
-To sit alone, read SECTION 5.
SECTION 7
You wave back to your friends at the lunch table and join them. You take a seat beside Kent and Mia and instantly feel welcomed into their conversation. You don’t feel like a newcomer to a previously established group of friends, but you feel welcomed and at home instantly. It’s like you have been friends with these people for years. Of course, they ask questions about your life in New York and you ask them many questions as well, however, these questions don’t feel intrusive and unnecessary, but natural.
The rest of the day follows along in a very similar manner. You are pleased to discover that in every one of your seven classes, at least one of your new friends shares a class with you.
Later, you get into your mom’s car to begin your ride home. You glance out at your friends, waving through the window of your car to them as you drive away.
“Looks like you’ve made some friends.”
You smile at your mother’s observation.
“I sure have.”
The End.
To see how things could have turned out if you had made different choices, return to Section 1.
SECTION 1
It is finally your first day of 6th grade.
You sit staring out the window of your mom's car aimlessly as the trees and the beautiful rolling hills pass by. You're still not used to the scenery; you've only lived here for a few weeks. You come from a place not of gorgeous views like this, but of impressive goliaths of buildings, and of concrete walls surrounding you, suffocating you.
Needless to say, the move from New York City to the small town of Anderson, Georgia has been a welcome culture shock.
It's not that you hate people, or crowds. On the contrary, you love people. They just sometimes… make you nervous. You can’t explain it, but it’s hard for you to get to know new people.
So far in school you have had trouble, socially speaking, but today, you decide, I am going to make a friend.
That’s your goal, and it could turn out to be a difficult one. A lot of people may know each other from their elementary schools, you think, but no one will know everybody. Maybe no one will even notice I’m not from this state.
You realize a moment later that this was nothing but wishful thinking. Of course they would notice. Your thick New York accent will attract immediate attention from your classmates. Welcome attention, you decide. I want to be noticed, you tell yourself, yet a part of you does not.
In your car, you approach the school building. You feel apprehensive yet excited as the car pulls into the school parking lot.
“I think you let me out right at the front there,” you say to your mom, who looks confused as to what the system is.
Sure enough, as you say this, a red car pulls up to the front of the school and a child gets out. This is followed immediately by another car doing the same thing. Your mom follows suit and before you know it you are stepping out of the car.
You feel your heart beating quickly as you enter the school through the front doors. Time somehow seems to move very fast as you follow a series of signs directing you and all of the other sixth graders to their classrooms.
You get to your hall and after a moment of searching you find a room labeled “Mrs. Miller.” Your homeroom. You walk in and set down your things; you’ll get your locker at some point in the day, and then you won’t have as many things to carry around. For now, you look around the room. It is clear that three distinct groups seem to be forming among the students; three elementary schools feed into this middle school.
You consider going over to talk to one of these groups of people, but then you consider the fact that you could also just sit down in your seat and wait for the class to begin.
-If you want to talk to the people standing in one of the groups, read SECTION 2 next.
-If you would rather sit at your desk and lie in wait for the class to begin, skip ahead to SECTION 3 now.
SECTION 2
You swallow your fear and approach one of the groups.
You walk into the group and instantly feel singled out and out of place. It feels as if time stops for a moment as many of the kids in the group look up and stare at you.
“Hi,” you say, making an awkward attempt at conversation. You introduce yourself. Many just stand awkwardly for a moment but one steps forward and offers his hand to you. You shake it as he says, “Hi. I’m Kent.” Kent is not tall, but he is not short, and when you shake his hand he seems genuine and kind. He is the kind of person that people are instantly drawn to not for popularity or for the superficial, but for the kind of magnetic charisma that is impossible to resist by boys and girls alike. You can already tell that Kent is going to fare very well socially in middle school.
Kent introduces you to the rest of the group. There’s Charlie, Amelia, Mia, Austin, and Josh. You shake hands with all of them, some more comfortably than others, and attempt to explain yourself.
“I’m not from one of the three elementary schools that everyone else are from.”
You say this and look around the circle, where you simply see nods of understanding and some inquizitive looks. You attempt once again to explain yourself.
“I’m actually not from within this state.”
You’re about to start to say something else when the girl you recognize as Mia speaks.
“I could tell by your, uh…” She nervously points to the general area of her mouth and throat, trying to indicate something. She seems a little uncomfortable now that she has started speaking, as if she wishes she hadn’t, but you understand what she means.
“Oh, that would be my accent.”
A few people laugh as she nods her head.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I mean, to me, I sound normal, and the rest of you have accents.”
This gets a few laughs, but they are abruptly interrupted by the sound of a tone coming from the ceiling. Everyone looks confused for a moment but soon discover that it is the time in the morning when students recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
“...With liberty and justice for all.”
After the pledge you look around your new group of friends.
“We’ll see you at lunch, then?” Kent says.
“Sure! That sounds great.”
The next few hours of your day are okay, but just that: okay. As you walk into the lunchroom, you look around. There are many seats waiting to be filled, but as soon as you walk in you see waving from your new friends. You want to go sit with your friends, but a small, defensive desire sets in and another part of you would like to go sit alone. You weigh your options.
-To decide to sit with your friends, read SECTION 7 next.
-To sit alone, skip to SECTION 5.
SECTION 3
Your nervousness gets the better of you and you go to your desk. You sit down and watch as people socialize happily, and you feel a certain jealousy for them.
I said that I was going to make a friend today.
All of a sudden you feel confident and determined and you consider going to talk to one of the groups once again.
-To make an attempt at socialization with some of the kids, read SECTION 2.
- To change your mind and sit and wait once again, read SECTION 6.
SECTION 4
“No, thanks,” you say. Kent looks somewhat hurt.
“Okay,” he says. “You just let us know if you ever need us. We’ll be right over here.”
He walks away and you can almost see defeat in his body language. A part of you wishes you had gone to sit with him.
The rest of your day passes by uneventfully. Kent is in many of your classes, but you never speak to him. After an agonizingly long day, you find yourself getting into your mom’s car, on your way home.
“How was your day?” You know that she can tell there’s something wrong.
“It was okay.” You don’t want to talk about it.
Your mom looks at you for a second, and then focuses on the road. She looks back at you.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
You pause for a second.
“I wish… I wish I had made different decisions today. I wish I could… I wish I could turn back the pages and do it again.”
The End.
You can turn back the pages and do it again. To see how things could have turned out if you had made different choices, return to Section 1.
SECTION 5
That small feeling within overcomes you and you venture off to find a seat by yourself. After a few moments of sitting there Kent comes and stands beside where you are sitting.
“Hey,” he says. “Wanna come sit with us?”
You glance over at the group which he gestures to, and they are still waving at you. They did make you feel very comfortable and at home before…
-To go over and sit beside the group, read SECTION 7.
-To remain alone, read SECTION 4.
SECTION 6
You decide to sit and wait. The class begins, and ends quickly. Nothing eventful takes place for that class, and then in the next, and in the one after that. But in your 4th period, something different happens.
“Hi.”
You look up, startled, as you see a boy your age standing beside your desk. You recognize him from another class; his name is Kent.
“Hello,” you say, nervously. You introduce yourself and he does too.
“Let me introduce you to my friends,” he says, and he leads you over to a group of kids standing clumped together. He introduces you to all of them. There’s Mia, Josh, Austin, Amelia, and Charlie. You greet them anxiously as well, and then Kent gestures at a seat.
“Wanna sit with us for this class?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah, okay. Sure,” you say, barely managing to make words come out of your mouth.
Before you know it, you are walking into the lunchroom and you see that all of your friends from class are crowded around the end of one table, waving for you to join them. You would like to sit with them, but a small part of you also just wants to be alone.
-To join them, read SECTION 7.
-To sit alone, read SECTION 5.
SECTION 7
You wave back to your friends at the lunch table and join them. You take a seat beside Kent and Mia and instantly feel welcomed into their conversation. You don’t feel like a newcomer to a previously established group of friends, but you feel welcomed and at home instantly. It’s like you have been friends with these people for years. Of course, they ask questions about your life in New York and you ask them many questions as well, however, these questions don’t feel intrusive and unnecessary, but natural.
The rest of the day follows along in a very similar manner. You are pleased to discover that in every one of your seven classes, at least one of your new friends shares a class with you.
Later, you get into your mom’s car to begin your ride home. You glance out at your friends, waving through the window of your car to them as you drive away.
“Looks like you’ve made some friends.”
You smile at your mother’s observation.
“I sure have.”
The End.
To see how things could have turned out if you had made different choices, return to Section 1.
2nd Place
Aubrey Gough
Chestatee Academy
Freedom
“No,” I say, heart racing. “I can’t,” My breath is so heavy I feel as I have increased fifty pounds.
“Why not?” My best friend Ethan’s face goes from elevated to confoundment. He was so excited to share the news to me, his words like gold, so rich and bright. Now I’ve just shattered any chance of freedom for everyone in the country of Rayselten.
“Because,” I try to fight against my fuzzy vision, “How can they expect a sixteen-year-old girl to lead an entire army into something no one has any understanding of?”
There hasn’t been a war, uprising, or anything violent between anyone or anything for centuries. Therefore, no one has much knowledge on the matter. It is considered unlucky and unwise to involve yourself in such savagery, and the consequences are great, including lives and damage that are not likely to be mutated in the same fashion. Now, the generals and commanders want me as their leader? I hate to be a let-down, but a girl with little to no experience in combat, let alone in anything aggressive, is an extremely bad candidate for marching an entire army into a civil war.
“But they said you have the potential needed to succeed, Kylie,” Ethan tries to convince me to accept the position, “ And no one is a better judge of character than Commander Leevius.”
“But potential doesn’t help a horde of soldiers overthrow the Rayseltian government!” I fight back. “The only potential I have needed to forefront is that I can act quickly, make immediate decisions and I know about the capitol city’s functioning cites. I haven’t any beneficial abilities to lead the country to freedom!”
Before he can protest once more, I push past him, stumble out the door, down the stairs, and flee from the rebel headquarters. I feel the need to bury my face into my tunic, but ignore it and dash onto the street. My feet tap the concrete sidewalk, and I sprint across the road without thinking twice, even though it’s hazardous. I break for the forest, the one place I can digest Ethan’s news and contemplate whether or not I should lead thousands of men and women willing to sacrifice themselves for the benefit of their debilitating country. It seems unreal, unimaginable, me making decisions that could either win us back our beloved home, or demolish us into smithereens. That decision could also lead every military officer, including me, into eternal punishment by the president himself.
But, if I don’t obtain the position, who will? It’s only a matter of time before the government realizes a rebellion is forming, and if I don’t accept, I doubt Commander Leevius will be able to choose another symbol of freedom that suits the role. Besides, I could just leave the combat reinforcing to the military officials. I’d be behind the sidelines while everyone directly fights. I could make it work...
After a minute or two of making my final decision, I make my way back to the rebel headquarters. Once I arrive, I call for a meeting with the ten officers. “I’ll do it,” I say to them. “I’ll lead you all.”
After weeks of preparing to strike the weakest points of the capitol city, we finally make our mark on one of the court houses. It ends in a success. Ethan congratulates me in this small, but valuable, victory. It’s another month before we prepare to bomb two more fragile sites. The rebels gain much ground after almost three months of raiding, bombing, and many more horrific ways to gain freedom. I try to tell myself that this would all be over before I know it, but it never seems to end, the loss of lives. Hundreds of remarkable soldiers dying for the better future of Rayselten. I can’t bear to enter into battle, seeing my comrades fail to live for an important cause. But all these years of being treated like slaves to the lawmakers and president are over.
Finally, well over four months later, the rebels face their greatest challenge: the capitol building. It’s where the lawmaking process and important meetings take place. It’s basically the president’s home-away-from-home.
I tremble with fear before the raid, because Ethan announced before formation that he would march with the other rebel soldiers into the building. I wept and tried to tell him stay, but he insisted that it was the right thing for Rayselten’s people. I keep wondering why he is so selfless, even now. I personally make an announcement to all the men and women after they form an array of determined soldiers, “Remember, this fight isn’t just about pride or revenge, it’s about giving future Rayseltian generations a better way of life. I wish you all the best, and may you fight with all you have.” I accept their applause and leave to the control room, where the action has been filmed up close all this time by hidden cameras in isolated parts of buildings and trees. I pray that Ethan would come home to me, that he would be safe and unwounded. But there’s nothing I can do now but watch the greatest plan we have ever formulated unfold before me.
It’s horrendous. The deaths, casualties, the wounded rebels still fighting, all have purpose. As I watch the projector open my eyes to a whole new level of fighting, I witness the passings of many soldiers of which I personally knew after I claimed the position as leader. The rebels drop bombs of massive sizes, and while I see so many innocent civilians fall, I try to hold back my tears. The resistance warriors fight their way to the capitol building, the government’s troopers fail to hold them back and many fall. Their once white armor now stained with red, the troopers begin to drop like flies. I force myself to continue perceiving all the conflict taking place in front of me.
Then, after months of preparation, the unbelievable happens. The invasion, the bombing, everything finally comes to an end when the rebels completely destroy every last governmental soldier standing. It’s almost like a miracle, an unexpected turn of events. I knew we would succeed deep down inside myself, but never like this. Commander Leevius, who sits on the far end of the table, General Corks, who stands behind me, and I all exchange bewildered glances. I grin with relief; the war is over. We have won.
I eventually find my best friend, bruised but alive, and I wrap my arms around his dirty uniform. I let out a sigh of relief and whisper, “Thank you,” in his ear. I smile.
A week later, before I personally accept the government and president’s surrender on live television, Ethan, now clean and healing, asks to speak to me. “What is it?” I say after he takes me aside.
“I owe you one,” he beams. “This never would have happened if you hadn’t lead all of us into battle.”
“Of course.” I shrug and nod. “I just wanted a brighter future for the citizens of our country.”
“Well now you’ve done just that,” Ethan takes my hand. “And I want to thank you for it.”
I plant a small kiss on his lips and take him in for a hug. I’ve never felt this feeling in my entire life, but not the love-like tenderness. The strong and stable, yet graceful and soft, emotion that is forever set in my heart. It has no boundaries, no limitations, and I swim in peace as I let that feeling wash over me as I look into Ethan’s eyes and smile.
Freedom.
“No,” I say, heart racing. “I can’t,” My breath is so heavy I feel as I have increased fifty pounds.
“Why not?” My best friend Ethan’s face goes from elevated to confoundment. He was so excited to share the news to me, his words like gold, so rich and bright. Now I’ve just shattered any chance of freedom for everyone in the country of Rayselten.
“Because,” I try to fight against my fuzzy vision, “How can they expect a sixteen-year-old girl to lead an entire army into something no one has any understanding of?”
There hasn’t been a war, uprising, or anything violent between anyone or anything for centuries. Therefore, no one has much knowledge on the matter. It is considered unlucky and unwise to involve yourself in such savagery, and the consequences are great, including lives and damage that are not likely to be mutated in the same fashion. Now, the generals and commanders want me as their leader? I hate to be a let-down, but a girl with little to no experience in combat, let alone in anything aggressive, is an extremely bad candidate for marching an entire army into a civil war.
“But they said you have the potential needed to succeed, Kylie,” Ethan tries to convince me to accept the position, “ And no one is a better judge of character than Commander Leevius.”
“But potential doesn’t help a horde of soldiers overthrow the Rayseltian government!” I fight back. “The only potential I have needed to forefront is that I can act quickly, make immediate decisions and I know about the capitol city’s functioning cites. I haven’t any beneficial abilities to lead the country to freedom!”
Before he can protest once more, I push past him, stumble out the door, down the stairs, and flee from the rebel headquarters. I feel the need to bury my face into my tunic, but ignore it and dash onto the street. My feet tap the concrete sidewalk, and I sprint across the road without thinking twice, even though it’s hazardous. I break for the forest, the one place I can digest Ethan’s news and contemplate whether or not I should lead thousands of men and women willing to sacrifice themselves for the benefit of their debilitating country. It seems unreal, unimaginable, me making decisions that could either win us back our beloved home, or demolish us into smithereens. That decision could also lead every military officer, including me, into eternal punishment by the president himself.
But, if I don’t obtain the position, who will? It’s only a matter of time before the government realizes a rebellion is forming, and if I don’t accept, I doubt Commander Leevius will be able to choose another symbol of freedom that suits the role. Besides, I could just leave the combat reinforcing to the military officials. I’d be behind the sidelines while everyone directly fights. I could make it work...
After a minute or two of making my final decision, I make my way back to the rebel headquarters. Once I arrive, I call for a meeting with the ten officers. “I’ll do it,” I say to them. “I’ll lead you all.”
After weeks of preparing to strike the weakest points of the capitol city, we finally make our mark on one of the court houses. It ends in a success. Ethan congratulates me in this small, but valuable, victory. It’s another month before we prepare to bomb two more fragile sites. The rebels gain much ground after almost three months of raiding, bombing, and many more horrific ways to gain freedom. I try to tell myself that this would all be over before I know it, but it never seems to end, the loss of lives. Hundreds of remarkable soldiers dying for the better future of Rayselten. I can’t bear to enter into battle, seeing my comrades fail to live for an important cause. But all these years of being treated like slaves to the lawmakers and president are over.
Finally, well over four months later, the rebels face their greatest challenge: the capitol building. It’s where the lawmaking process and important meetings take place. It’s basically the president’s home-away-from-home.
I tremble with fear before the raid, because Ethan announced before formation that he would march with the other rebel soldiers into the building. I wept and tried to tell him stay, but he insisted that it was the right thing for Rayselten’s people. I keep wondering why he is so selfless, even now. I personally make an announcement to all the men and women after they form an array of determined soldiers, “Remember, this fight isn’t just about pride or revenge, it’s about giving future Rayseltian generations a better way of life. I wish you all the best, and may you fight with all you have.” I accept their applause and leave to the control room, where the action has been filmed up close all this time by hidden cameras in isolated parts of buildings and trees. I pray that Ethan would come home to me, that he would be safe and unwounded. But there’s nothing I can do now but watch the greatest plan we have ever formulated unfold before me.
It’s horrendous. The deaths, casualties, the wounded rebels still fighting, all have purpose. As I watch the projector open my eyes to a whole new level of fighting, I witness the passings of many soldiers of which I personally knew after I claimed the position as leader. The rebels drop bombs of massive sizes, and while I see so many innocent civilians fall, I try to hold back my tears. The resistance warriors fight their way to the capitol building, the government’s troopers fail to hold them back and many fall. Their once white armor now stained with red, the troopers begin to drop like flies. I force myself to continue perceiving all the conflict taking place in front of me.
Then, after months of preparation, the unbelievable happens. The invasion, the bombing, everything finally comes to an end when the rebels completely destroy every last governmental soldier standing. It’s almost like a miracle, an unexpected turn of events. I knew we would succeed deep down inside myself, but never like this. Commander Leevius, who sits on the far end of the table, General Corks, who stands behind me, and I all exchange bewildered glances. I grin with relief; the war is over. We have won.
I eventually find my best friend, bruised but alive, and I wrap my arms around his dirty uniform. I let out a sigh of relief and whisper, “Thank you,” in his ear. I smile.
A week later, before I personally accept the government and president’s surrender on live television, Ethan, now clean and healing, asks to speak to me. “What is it?” I say after he takes me aside.
“I owe you one,” he beams. “This never would have happened if you hadn’t lead all of us into battle.”
“Of course.” I shrug and nod. “I just wanted a brighter future for the citizens of our country.”
“Well now you’ve done just that,” Ethan takes my hand. “And I want to thank you for it.”
I plant a small kiss on his lips and take him in for a hug. I’ve never felt this feeling in my entire life, but not the love-like tenderness. The strong and stable, yet graceful and soft, emotion that is forever set in my heart. It has no boundaries, no limitations, and I swim in peace as I let that feeling wash over me as I look into Ethan’s eyes and smile.
Freedom.
3rd Place
Rachel Hall
Academies of Discovery
One Million Plus One
It’s starting to get dark. I need to find a ride. A car drives by and I stop and wave my hands, frantically jumping up and down. The car slows down and flashes its headlights. I see the passenger’s side window roll down as the car comes closer. Please say yes.
“Hey, what are you doing on the street all by yourself at this time?” A man in his twenties asks. He is gorgeous, like a model. He has tan skin and short, dark brown hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes are the color of leaves in the fall. His face seems practically perfect. He has a slender figure and wore simple jeans and a comfy hoodie.
“I-I need a ride,” I stutter.
“Where you headed?” he asks.
“New Jersey,” I answer before I remember to lie.
“Don’t be so nervous. You can get in,” the man calmly says. “I’m not going all the way to New Jersey but you can ride with me to Greenville. I look at him with wide eyes and he chuckles. He slides over suddenly and quickly reaches forward to grab my bag which is perched on the window.
“No! Please don’t hurt me!” I beg him. My eyes fill with tears about to spill out of my eyes onto my red cheeks. I bring my arms up to my head to guard it.
I remember the time a few weeks ago when my drug and alcohol addicted father reached forward like that to whack me on the head with his empty bottle.
“Hey, are you ok?” he asks me and tries to reassure me. I snap out of my thoughts and nod at him.
I wonder if I made the right decision, trying to hitchhike to my mother in New Jersey all the way from Atlanta. After my parents got divorced, I moved in with my dad because my mom didn't really want me. Dad has always drank too much but his alcohol abuse has gotten worse. Mom said that he did drugs, too, but I did not believe her until he starting doing them right in front of me. He also brought some really bad people home who scared me. When the physical abuse started, I had enough and left. I’ve been on the road for over six hours now, and this is the first person to give me a ride.
After thinking for a couple of minutes, I decide that I have to accept this ride since I haven't slept for a while. I get in without a word, lean my head against the window, and close my eyes. I slowly drift into sleep and let the darkness consume me.
After about an hour, I wake up to the sound of knuckles cracking. I look at the man beside me in the seat.
“Can you please stop,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why do you want me stop? Does this bother you?” he turned to me and asked with a slight smirk evident on his face.
“Yes it actually does. It reminds me of my dad,” I say as tears threaten to spill out of my eyes.
“Oh sorry. Hey, what’s your name? I don’t even know it yet,” he said to me with a small smile.
“My name is Rose. What’s yours?” I questioned, turning my whole body towards the driver.
“ My name is Joshua,” he answered now fully smiling. He seems like a nice man. I pray I can trust him….
“How old are you Joshua?” I ask.
“I’m 25. You?”
“I just turned 13,” I respond. He nods his head in approval of my answer. I twiddle my thumbs and look down into my lap. Suddenly, the car swerves violently to the right. Joshua flings his arm across my chest and keeps me pinned to the seat. We run off the road to avoid the crazy driver, and we hit a small pine tree.
“Woah! Watch where you’re going!” he yells out the window to the careless driver. He turns to me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you ok?”
I shake my head yes and open the car door. I sit down on the side of the road and let the tears fall down my face. I should’ve just stayed with my dad. I almost got myself killed.
“Joshua?” I call for him and he walks over to me after seeing if there was damage to his car.
“There’s only one small scratch. My car should be fine. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed that this is the only trouble we run into,” he responds.
“About that… I think it would be best for me to find another ride. We’ve already run into enough trouble so-,” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
“No! This is not ok. At least stay with me until the morning; it’s dark already.” His tone was sharp and I sunk down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. I felt shameful, like I was betraying him by leaving him after an accident that wasn’t his fault, but I knew that it was the right thing to do. I shouldn’t stay with the same person for too long.
“Oh.. But I’m leaving in the morning.” I tried to avoid his eyes, but he put his hand under my chin and forced me to look up at him.
“You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with me. I’m safe. That accident wasn’t my fault and you know that. I want you to feel like you can trust me in the time we are together,” his eyes curved up at the edges as his mouth formed a smile. I couldn’t help but smile with him. He felt like an older brother although I just met him. I didn’t want to leave him. I felt my eyes tear up at the thought. I knew I would have to, though.
“Let’s go ahead and get back in the car and keep going, okay?” Joshua asks. I nod my head and get up from the ground and walk back towards the car. I hear the door click as it unlocks, so I pull the handle and sit down in the front seat.
Joshua gets in on the other side and grabs my hand. “You will be ok. I promise,” he smiles his signature smile and lets my hand go. We drive silently in the dark for the next few minutes. A red light starts flashing on the dashboard, catching my attention. “Well that’s just great. We are almost out of gas. I’ll have to get off at the next exit and get some quickly,” Joshua sounds irritated and angry. He swerves the car and pulls off the highway. The gas station sign flickers and there is trash littering the ground.
“Definitely not the nicest, huh?” I take note of the rusting and outdated gas pumps.
“That’s for sure,” Joshua agrees. He gets out and pays for the gas using his card. The numbers on the screen started to rise as he injects gas into the tank. I begin to hum to myself while I wait for Joshua.
When I hear a knock on the window, I jump and turn to see him there. “I’m going to run inside and grab us two drinks. Will you be okay out here by yourself?” His voice is muffled by the window but I still nod. He turns around and starts to run to the door.
I was staring out the window when I heard a buzz. I look down and see Joshua’s phone on the floor board. He must have dropped it as he got out of the car. I pick up the phone and see an incoming text. As I read the words, I am in complete shock.
Meet at the same spot? You got one or two this time? Two I hope. Need the green bro! My hands shake and I try to catch my breath.
Ok Rose. Calm down. You can get out of this situation. All you have to do is open the car door and run as far as you can before he comes back out. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and grasp the handle of the car door. 1, 2, 3, pull! I pull the handle and prepare myself, but the door does not open. My eyes fill with panic as I suddenly realize he had child locks on the doors. I am trapped in the car.
I begin to sob and all I can think of is a poster that I saw at school. It has lots of trafficking statistics on it such as one million U.S. kids are sold as a part of human trafficking each year. I am petrified because I am pretty sure that I have just become a statistic.
One million plus one.
It’s starting to get dark. I need to find a ride. A car drives by and I stop and wave my hands, frantically jumping up and down. The car slows down and flashes its headlights. I see the passenger’s side window roll down as the car comes closer. Please say yes.
“Hey, what are you doing on the street all by yourself at this time?” A man in his twenties asks. He is gorgeous, like a model. He has tan skin and short, dark brown hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes are the color of leaves in the fall. His face seems practically perfect. He has a slender figure and wore simple jeans and a comfy hoodie.
“I-I need a ride,” I stutter.
“Where you headed?” he asks.
“New Jersey,” I answer before I remember to lie.
“Don’t be so nervous. You can get in,” the man calmly says. “I’m not going all the way to New Jersey but you can ride with me to Greenville. I look at him with wide eyes and he chuckles. He slides over suddenly and quickly reaches forward to grab my bag which is perched on the window.
“No! Please don’t hurt me!” I beg him. My eyes fill with tears about to spill out of my eyes onto my red cheeks. I bring my arms up to my head to guard it.
I remember the time a few weeks ago when my drug and alcohol addicted father reached forward like that to whack me on the head with his empty bottle.
“Hey, are you ok?” he asks me and tries to reassure me. I snap out of my thoughts and nod at him.
I wonder if I made the right decision, trying to hitchhike to my mother in New Jersey all the way from Atlanta. After my parents got divorced, I moved in with my dad because my mom didn't really want me. Dad has always drank too much but his alcohol abuse has gotten worse. Mom said that he did drugs, too, but I did not believe her until he starting doing them right in front of me. He also brought some really bad people home who scared me. When the physical abuse started, I had enough and left. I’ve been on the road for over six hours now, and this is the first person to give me a ride.
After thinking for a couple of minutes, I decide that I have to accept this ride since I haven't slept for a while. I get in without a word, lean my head against the window, and close my eyes. I slowly drift into sleep and let the darkness consume me.
After about an hour, I wake up to the sound of knuckles cracking. I look at the man beside me in the seat.
“Can you please stop,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why do you want me stop? Does this bother you?” he turned to me and asked with a slight smirk evident on his face.
“Yes it actually does. It reminds me of my dad,” I say as tears threaten to spill out of my eyes.
“Oh sorry. Hey, what’s your name? I don’t even know it yet,” he said to me with a small smile.
“My name is Rose. What’s yours?” I questioned, turning my whole body towards the driver.
“ My name is Joshua,” he answered now fully smiling. He seems like a nice man. I pray I can trust him….
“How old are you Joshua?” I ask.
“I’m 25. You?”
“I just turned 13,” I respond. He nods his head in approval of my answer. I twiddle my thumbs and look down into my lap. Suddenly, the car swerves violently to the right. Joshua flings his arm across my chest and keeps me pinned to the seat. We run off the road to avoid the crazy driver, and we hit a small pine tree.
“Woah! Watch where you’re going!” he yells out the window to the careless driver. He turns to me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you ok?”
I shake my head yes and open the car door. I sit down on the side of the road and let the tears fall down my face. I should’ve just stayed with my dad. I almost got myself killed.
“Joshua?” I call for him and he walks over to me after seeing if there was damage to his car.
“There’s only one small scratch. My car should be fine. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed that this is the only trouble we run into,” he responds.
“About that… I think it would be best for me to find another ride. We’ve already run into enough trouble so-,” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
“No! This is not ok. At least stay with me until the morning; it’s dark already.” His tone was sharp and I sunk down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. I felt shameful, like I was betraying him by leaving him after an accident that wasn’t his fault, but I knew that it was the right thing to do. I shouldn’t stay with the same person for too long.
“Oh.. But I’m leaving in the morning.” I tried to avoid his eyes, but he put his hand under my chin and forced me to look up at him.
“You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with me. I’m safe. That accident wasn’t my fault and you know that. I want you to feel like you can trust me in the time we are together,” his eyes curved up at the edges as his mouth formed a smile. I couldn’t help but smile with him. He felt like an older brother although I just met him. I didn’t want to leave him. I felt my eyes tear up at the thought. I knew I would have to, though.
“Let’s go ahead and get back in the car and keep going, okay?” Joshua asks. I nod my head and get up from the ground and walk back towards the car. I hear the door click as it unlocks, so I pull the handle and sit down in the front seat.
Joshua gets in on the other side and grabs my hand. “You will be ok. I promise,” he smiles his signature smile and lets my hand go. We drive silently in the dark for the next few minutes. A red light starts flashing on the dashboard, catching my attention. “Well that’s just great. We are almost out of gas. I’ll have to get off at the next exit and get some quickly,” Joshua sounds irritated and angry. He swerves the car and pulls off the highway. The gas station sign flickers and there is trash littering the ground.
“Definitely not the nicest, huh?” I take note of the rusting and outdated gas pumps.
“That’s for sure,” Joshua agrees. He gets out and pays for the gas using his card. The numbers on the screen started to rise as he injects gas into the tank. I begin to hum to myself while I wait for Joshua.
When I hear a knock on the window, I jump and turn to see him there. “I’m going to run inside and grab us two drinks. Will you be okay out here by yourself?” His voice is muffled by the window but I still nod. He turns around and starts to run to the door.
I was staring out the window when I heard a buzz. I look down and see Joshua’s phone on the floor board. He must have dropped it as he got out of the car. I pick up the phone and see an incoming text. As I read the words, I am in complete shock.
Meet at the same spot? You got one or two this time? Two I hope. Need the green bro! My hands shake and I try to catch my breath.
Ok Rose. Calm down. You can get out of this situation. All you have to do is open the car door and run as far as you can before he comes back out. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and grasp the handle of the car door. 1, 2, 3, pull! I pull the handle and prepare myself, but the door does not open. My eyes fill with panic as I suddenly realize he had child locks on the doors. I am trapped in the car.
I begin to sob and all I can think of is a poster that I saw at school. It has lots of trafficking statistics on it such as one million U.S. kids are sold as a part of human trafficking each year. I am petrified because I am pretty sure that I have just become a statistic.
One million plus one.