My grandmother always told me To hold onto that star Let it grant your wish So forever can go far
But now the sky has dimmed Stars flicker no more Hopes are crushed now Dreams are lost
My burden awaits Like holding up the world A kite in the air Lightning strikes still
It echoes with regrets “Not a moment to waste” Is what she said Yet I let it fade
Some hope to find Some let it pass I will remember Find peace at last
What once was bright Is now haunting The stars that shined Are now daunting
Wanted to try my hand at poetry! Let me know what you think!
You walk across the frozen lake, hoping to find what you are looking for. You feel the cold air swallowing your sense, your chest feels heavy. Your foot slips and you fall, tumbling down. The ice breaks, and you fall into the depths below. All you can feel is the tingling sense of cold and pain swallowing all thought and reason. You gasp for air, but all you get is cold, hard water. You feel yourself slip into darkness, never to be seen again.
You start to dream of palm trees, swaying to the melody of the setting sun’s rays. You feel the heat and warmth of love, surrounding you. You hear the birds singing. It distorts. You wake up to cold and terror once more. Silence. Nothing moves. You feel your jacket, and through that your pounding heart and soul. The air touches your skin, no longer wet. But that can’t be. You were just in water. The frozen lake lay in front of you once more. How long has it been? A week? A year? Or has it simply been an hour? You long to find it, though you don’t know what or where. You only know how.
Your tredge across the lake once more and see a small hole. You look through it and see a body floating. You watch it turn over, and painfully realize that body is yours. But you’re still alive, so how could it be you? Or are you even living? You find yourself crossing the lake for what feels like forever, until you find the end. There’s a chest. You cannot remember anything at this point. Only what you must do. You reach for your bag, hoping to find a knife or something sharp. Your back is empty. You scan the forests, the pale trees staring you down. The barren branches eating into your soul. You see frozen animals, unable to hibernate against the cold. You search, again for what feels like eternity. You finally find a sharp branch, and drive it into your heart. To your surprise, nothing happens. Your inner consciousness is telling you to open the chest, and after some thought you listen. You are overcome with silence, but with silence comes darkness. You have found peace. You have found what you were looking for.
Look. It’s not _my _fault I’m prone to trouble. Well, maybe it is, but that’s no reason to send me off to a summer camp for “troubled teens”. Everyone here’s either emo or just plain weird. Their magic style reflects it too. Your wings reflect your personality. Mine are - and I quote - Mischievous Green. Fitting, huh? Most of the weird kids’ wings are orange, and you can probably guess the emo kids’ color(s). You’d think I’d stand out, but thanks to my ability (and in part a genetic mutation), I can make any part (or parts) of me invisible. This helps in my “mischief”. I naturally blend into the environment with my soil colored hair and tanned skin, but the invisibility helps. A lot.
The biggest heist I’ve ever pulled off was three weeks ago. It’s what got me sent to this stupid place. But some context is required first.
As you get older, your wings grow larger. Once you turn 16, you get a wand. There are five types, one for each class. Most kids choose the same class as their parents. Each class has different standards. The first class, the Freeflys, have few rules, but the social expectation is high. If you act out, instead of being punished you’ll be publicly shamed and judged, which is arguably worse. The second class is the Bluefoxes. They’re sneaky and swift. Mischief is their middle name. They don’t get sent to summer camps from behvior. Alas, I’m only 13. Anyway, the third class is the Royowls. As the name suggests, they are regal, sophisticated, and super boring. The fourth class is the Starkwolves. They’re your ordinary people, much like humans. They don’t use much magic, and live their lives pretty, well, normally. The fifth class is the Alphas. They rule the country. Sadly, you can’t join them. It’s only secrecy and a dynasty. Boo hoo.
Back to the story. As I mentioned, when you turn 16, you get a wand. What I didn’t mention was the Alphas have a very special, rare wand made of Ampherite. It’s the strongest material, yet weightless. It can also only be found in the woods, made of goat feces (gross) that had gone through a special process courtesy of the Forest Elves. The wand giver is called the Mangi, conveniently a part of the Alphas. It just so happened that my sister was turning 16 and I had just learned about Ampherite in school. As any good mannered and curious child would do, I developed a plan. A genious plan, if I do say so myself. During the ceremony I would go invisible, creep along the walls and wait. Then, I would walk up behind the Mangi and snatch his wand. I would give it back soon enough. I’d just keep it long enough to feel Ampherite, the rarest material in Falka. Did I mention I live in Falka? Anyway my plan went horribly wrong.
When I was really little, my sister got all the attention. Straight A’s, good at sports, all of that stuff. I wasn’t as good in school, but I was still really bright. I devised a plan to get even a little bit of the spotlight. And it worked. Slowly, my little pink wings began turning Mischievous Green. Yet my parents didn’t even notice. That’s when I devised my greatest heist. It was about the Ampherite, but a little part of me still did it to be recognized. The camp was sort of a victory, no matter how torturous and boring it was.
As I crept along the walls, a bit of pollen fell on my nose from the trees above. My one weakness, I thought, allergies. I fought the inevitable sneeze with everything in me. I sneezed quietly. My invisibility flickered, but no one saw. I was safe. I looked around me, the big church built of marbled gold and Iron Pyrite. The grand pillars were carefully sculpted from marble. The floor was silver, with a deep, red carpet leading to the stage. The ceiling had a gaping hole in the center of it, allowing the warm air to enter. All was calm, until I arrived. I continued to inch along the wall, and my parents still hadn’t noticed I was next to them. I became weary from keeping the invisibility on for so long. As I reached the stage, I could feel the invisibility slowly weakening. The Mangi was right there. My legs weary, I crept across the stage. I snuck up behind him and froze.
“It appears we have a troublemaker in our midst.”
He looked directly at me, and winked. He whispered, “Us Mangi are immune to powers. I could see you the whole time. Also, bless you.”
I blushed, and slowly crept off the stage, but he grabbed my leather jacket.
“No, young lady, you aren’t going anywhere. The only place you will be going is Camp Ghard.”
And that’s the terrific and underwhelming story of how I got here. Surprise! Now, I’m going to go plan my escape from this prison. See you later!
Carla would walk home from work everyday, always after dark. The sun set early in Arizona, and rose even earlier. When she would get home, the cozy homes on her street would be quiet. The only light was a flickering street lamp. This upset Carla, for many reasons. The street light would turn off and on rapidly, wait, then flicker again. It made the walk home much darker, more annoying, and, most of all, scary. The worst part - it was directly in front of her house. One dull day in September, Carla caught a cold. She lived alone, with no pets, siblings, or children. This gave her plenty of time to think. Carla stared out the window, watching the street light flicker. A movie was on in the background. “What’s that flicker, in the lightbulb?” Carla turned around, staring at the television screen. There were two men, one staring at a light and the other looking at a notebook. “It looks like morse code.” Carla turned off the television. She turned and looked outside at the still flickering light. It stopped blinking. Carla ran and grabbed a piece of paper as well as a morse code guide. She waited for it to start blinking again. -.-. .- -. / -.— —- ..- / … . . / — . / -. —- .— ..—.. Can you see me now?
She took a step back, reading it. Her hands started shaking, her knees buckled. What does it mean? She asked aloud. _What does it mean? _Her head was spinning. The world wouldn’t stop shaking. “You found me.”
_Part 2 soon! _
