O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry. Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mil O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry. Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mil

You know those towns that are just a set of stores along a railroad track? That’s where I live. It’s almost the only place I’ve ever seen.

My Dad’s in the military, and he’s been all over the world. Like ALL over the world. He’s brought me things from Japan, Sudan, Iran, and five other -ans. But we mostly just stay here in Bell Buckle. He says it’s safe here where we know almost everyone.

But I hear him talking with Mom sometimes about a trip across the country. They talk about these towns with funny names that they’d stop in along the way… real places! Maybe someday we’ll go. Maybe.

It was a small town, the type of place where everyone knew everyone. I parked the car and began walking down Main Street.

There was a white cottage to my right with a sign that read ‘Threads & Things.’ A few houses down I passed a purple two story Victorian style building that appeared to be a bed and breakfast. It had a wrap around porch with Adirondack chairs on the lawn.

There were two women sitting in the chairs who were laughing while sipping some sort of fruity cocktail. I imagined they were best friends having a girls getaway weekend.

As I continued my walk, I passed an elderly man using a cane. He nodded a hello and I smiled back. Oh how I love small towns.

Where I live, GoldenRope, is a small town, the type of place where everyone knows everyone… especially me and my family.

—————————————————————

I yawn and stretch, and my sister, Briar, romps into my room, her feet heavy and click-clacking on the ground.

“Wake up, Rosie Posie!” She exclaims, shaking my soft pink bed. I moan, “but…” “Todays your first day of school!” She says.

I reluctantly rise from bed and into the bathroom. I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth while combing my “hair.”

Once I finish that, I pull on the silky white top and pink skort my mother wants me to wear. Briar, giggles and runs to grab me my pastel backpack. “Thank you, B.” I say, ruffling her “hair.” She grins, and being only four and not the age to go to school, runs off to lounge in bed some more.

“Come on, Rose, time to go to school.” My mother calls from the other room. I shake my head, open the door, and hop in the car.

The distance from school is only like a five to ten minutes, but we decide to drive anyway, being my first day in a new school. I always did home school… because I was always considered “too different.”

When we arrive at the GoldenRope Middle School, (which is very hard to get in to, by the way) I give my mother one last, big hug and hop out.

I get lots, and I mean, lots of stares and strange looks when I walk in. I think I almost made a teacher pass out when she saw me, I guess Mr. Young didn’t tell her about me.

“Look at that… that thing, it’s so weird looking.” I hear a small, blonde haired girl whisper to another girl, and they both run off when I look their way, smiling.

I kind of feel like August, from Wonder, sometimes. Except for the fact that my whole family is like me, we are all—

“WOLF!!!!!” Screams a boy who looks like he is in eighth grade. Tons of other kids begin the shriek, and I cover my pointy ears. Some kids begin to cry when they see me, and I feel like burying mystery in my locker.

————————————during class————————————

I get lost of dirty looks, especially from one kid named Freddy. I heard he is the “most popular” kid in the sixth grade. He has deep brown hair and bright blue eyes, with a mischievous smile always visible.

You know, it makes sense why I keep saying “hair” know to you, right? Yeah, I was saying it because I didn’t want to give away my secret yet, but now you know, I’m a wolf… in middle school.

Mrs. Ferrel, our English teacher, passes out papers for us to fill out about ourselves. I hear light chuckles when some of the kids receive their paper, they probably think it is too “babyish.”

————————————at lunch———————————————

Unsurprisingly, I sit alone at lunch. Just me, my lunchbox, and my writing notebook. I slowly take bites of my sandwich, and watch as other kids laugh and talk.

And that’s I spot him. A young cat sitting in the corner, typing on his computer, oblivious to the people around him. I scoop up my belongings and cram them into my lunchbox.

“Hi there, I’m Rose.” I say, slightly touching his back. He turns around and let’s out a small hoot of disbelief. “Y-you-‘re a…” he stutters. I grin and flick my brown and grey speckled tail, “a wolf, yup.”

I place my stuff next to him and sit down. “What’s your name?” I ask. He hangs his head, “it’s embarrassing...” my ears perk up, “what do you mean?” “They named me a pet name.” He says “Like what?” “I told you, it’s embarrassing.” “C’mon, tell me! I won’t laugh.” “Okay,” he leans in close to me, “Fluffy.” My eyes light up, “well that is a cute name!” “Exactly, that’s why I don’t like it. So I told everyone to call me Felix, since it is my middle name.”

I chuckle, “Fluffy Felix?” Felix purrs and his soft, black body vibrates. I notice he is wearing a hoodie that says: Trinity Baptist Church. “You go to Trinity too?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, I have gone there since I was a kitten!” We both laugh together, “I never knew another animal like me went there!” I say.

He curls his tail around himself as we continue to laugh, chat, and laugh some more. “I think, just maybe, I have found a true friend.” I say, my eyes sparkling. Felix blushes, “me too.”

(This is part of a story I am writing.)

It was a small town, the type of place where everyone knew everyone. The latest news was always the talk of the town. The most peculiar thing about this town was its resident troublemaker, a mischievous orange-striped American Bobtail named Nacho. On September 23, 2004, in the early afternoon Nacho just randomly showed up at the back of the fire station in the middle of town and he has been hanging around town ever since causing mischief. He’s become quite legendary in town.

September 23, 2009, it was a sunny morning, the town’s bakery owner Mr. Potter came back from his morning walk to find his prized apple pies missing. Mr. Potter runs out of his bakery and yells for everyone to meet in the square. The townspeople come together in the square and glance around wondering what’s going on. Mr. Potter explains that his prized apple pies have gone missing from his locked store. As the townspeople start to discuss what could have happened, Nacho saunters up with pie filling all over his whiskers.

“Looks like Nacho has struck again!.” One of the townsfolk exclaims, pointing at the evidence on Nacho’s whiskers. The townspeople had seen enough of Nacho’s antics to recognize his handiwork. Mayor Williams, a slim woman in her early 30s with a fondness for puns, sighed and exclaimed “Nacho, you’ve certainly got purrr-sonality.”

Nacho’s shenanigans weren’t always mischievous, sometimes they were just adorable. One winter night a few months after Nacho arrived, he was spotted sneaking into Old Man Wilson’s house, only to emerge wearing a miniature, hand-knit blue hat scarf, and mittens set. The sight of this little kitten bundled up for the winter warmed all the townsfolk’s hearts.

As time went on, Nacho’s escapades continued. He climbed to the top of the church bell and started ringing it at 7 am as if summoning us to feed him. He even snuck into Mayor Williams’s house, opened her piano sheet music, and started playing. The town was so surprised to hear the beautiful music coming from Nacho. “Nacho is so talented!” The town librarian, Ms. Peters whispered in awe.

Tourists came to the town just to see him and get their food swiped by him. It became a rite of passage for new residents to have their food swiped by him. Nacho brought joy to every person he met especially the townsfolk, he was the townspeople’s cat. The townspeople were very happy that he randomly showed up. He changed their lives and brought fun to the town.

As months turned into years and Nacho got older, it was harder for him to be as mischievous. It didn’t matter to the townspeople though because they loved him very much. They all took turns taking care of Nacho at their homes as he got older. Nacho was a very friendly, talkative cat and loved getting pets. On the morning of November 10, 2021, Nacho disappeared and the residents gathered together to look for their beloved cat. Mayor Williams made the plan of splitting the people into teams and sectioning off the town for the teams to look at.

Mr. Potter’s team had the section where the fire station was and they searched the entire fire station. Mr. Potter walked to the back of the fire station and laying there was Nacho. He walked over to Nacho and saw that the cat was laying there not moving. Nacho had passed away. His shoulders quaked and he fell next to the cat, tears falling down his face. His voice broke as he screamed over and over until it was hoarse “Nooooo, everyone come quick.”

The funeral was touching but heartbreaking because their beloved cat was no longer with them. Each resident in town during the funeral shared a memory they had with Nacho. The residents of the town were grateful for the time and the memories they got to have with Nacho. Nacho’s legacy was passed down from generation to generation. Whenever tourists would come to visit, they would leave flowers for Nacho at his grave.

It was a small town, the type of place where everyone knew everyone. A place where news traveled around fast. In five minutes one thing could already be spread around. All the details. I normally didn’t notice or care, but now everyone’s treating me like I can’t cry. Like it was too painful and I’ve changed. Which it’s true I have changed. Or I feel like I have, but I definitely can cry. “Elina,” it’s a girl from my earth science class, “I’m so sorry. Can I do anything?” I close my eyes and turn around to face her. “No thanks.” She pulls me into a hug, “I don’t know what I would do if I were you. Living without your-“ “I’ve got to get home,” I cut her off, before she can finish her sentence. She lets go of me, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Elina I mean your brother. He probably needs you. Your all he’s got.” I nod and turn around, not knowing what to say. “If you do need anything my door is always open!” She called after me. I don’t reply I just keep walking. Half way to my house I run into a group of girls. That I recognized from math. “Hey,” the one with dark brown hair calls, “I just heard. I’m so sorry.” She doesn’t sound like she cares at all about my life. I know for a fact that none of these girls do. I try my best to smile, “Thanks.” The girl standing next to her gives me a small shy smile. Her blonde hair is close to her shoulders it reminds me of-I stop that thought from finishing. There’s no need to add more to my pain. “Was it a car accident?” The girl with dark hair ask. I shut my eyes. What is wrong with that girl? Doesn’t she know that I just lost my family? Doesn’t she know anything about how I might be feeling? “I don’t know go ask someone else. I’m sure they’ll know better than me.” I run away, and I know they all watch me. I hear one of them say, “Why would you ask that? She just lost her parents!” I’m too far away to hear the rest of the conversation but I don’t care. I run until I reach my house. Austin’s waiting outside his back pack sitting on the ground next to him. He has his baseball hat on covering his face. “Hey,” I sit down next to him. “Bad day?” He leans his head against my shoulder, “Why is it always us, Elina.” I shook my head bring my arm around his shoulder, “It’s just the way everything turned out. If I could change it for you. I would.” Austin takes his hat of and holds it in his hands. “I feel like I’m not a person.” I nodded, feeling like he had it worse off then me. Everyone at school was treating him like he had died in the fire with mom and dad. “Come on,” I said, grabbing his back pack and lifting him up. He placed his hat back on his head as I opened the front door. The house was quiet, very quiet. I keep expecting mom to rush in. Her white apron on and her shoulder length brown sugar hair pulled back in a half pony tail. “I feel like this isn’t our house anymore,” Austin sighed as he took his back pack from me. We both stepped in at the same time the cool rush of the air conditioning making chills run down my back. It took three months for them to fix our house after the fire. During that time we were living with our Moms best friend. Bonnie. She was going to move in with us next week. In the meantime we were trying to live off of the money she had given us for food. Not that I ever felt hungry anymore. I just ate because I was all Austin had left. And I wasn’t going to leave him. Austin threw his back pack on the floor in our mud room. He kept his shoes on and grabbed his bike from his room. They still hadn’t fixed the garage so he kept his bike in the house. Mom would hate it but I wasn’t going to do anything about it. Even if it bothered me a little. “When will you get back?” I asked kicking my shoes off and throwing my back pack next to his. Austin shrugged, “Five Maybe six.” I nodded, watching him leave. At least he was giving me a range. I decided for dinner I wouldn’t make anything. Austin always had cereal so I wasn’t going to waste the food on a whole meal. After I finished my homework, I grabbed a small brown leather journal my parents had given me for my birthday. A week before. Before everything changed. I hadn’t written in it, ever. Maybe today is the day I should change that. I open the leather cover and take a deep breath before writing. Dear Mom and Dad, I’ve decided I’m not letting my life go to waste. Tomorrow I’m going to go to school and be me. The new me. When people ask how I am I’ll smile and say I’m fine thanks. And when I get through the day, I’m probably going to sit right here, next to my window and cry. I said I’d change but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget you. It doesn’t mean I’ll move on. Because I know I won’t, I’ll just get used to it. So this is me saying goodbye. It’s me trying to start over, to finish the life you gave me. I know it’s what you want me to do. And I promise you that I’ll never stop trying until I reach what I want. I will always love you. Elina Pace

The town of Ivy Creek was small, the type of place where everyone knew everyone. Restaurants, bakeries, and shops lined the streets and avenues. Flowering trees bordered the sidewalks, giving brightness to the town’s brick buildings.

As a detective in Ivy Creek, nothing much happens. Every now and then, it’s the occasional robbery or noise complaint. Nothing more, nothing less in this quaint, little town.

Until today.

Two high school students were murdered at what was supposed to be Ivy Prep’s homecoming dance. Murdered by decapitation. Their heads nowhere to be found.

The first body belonged to a female, found in the girl’s bathroom. She wore a purple dress that hugged tightly around her hourglass figure, paired nicely with black flats. A pool of blood replaced where her head should be as it spilled over the linoleum. After questioning other students one by one, I was unsuccessful in retrieving evidence that could lead me to her unknown identity. No one seemed to know who she was.

The same was for the second body, discovered in the janitor’s closet. This time, the body belonged to a male. He wore a navy blue tuxedo stained with liquid crimson. In his limp hand was a small container containing a corsage, the flowers a beautiful inky black.

Finally, some useful evidence!

I questioned the girls, asking if they saw anyone who looked like they were waiting for someone, waiting for their date to show up.

All of them said no.

After weeks of investigating, not a single parent has filed a missing persons report for their son or daughter. The minimal evidence I had was all I could use.

It seemed that Ivy Creek was going to have it’s very first Jane and John Doe.

It’s a small town, the type of place where everyone knew everyone. A place where the most popular people in town shared the surnames found on building plaques. His wife had painted it like the setting of a romance movie, but the longer he stayed, the more sinister things became. His father-in-law was a tall man with eyes of an unnatural color. They reminded him of citrines as they glimmered at him with malice.

“You won’t be staying long, right?” He asked but it sounded more like a threat.

His wife doesn't react. Instead, she neutrally replied.

“No, Daddy, we won’t be staying long at all.”

Later he and his wife are back in their room at a nearby inn. There’s a vanity in the room that his wife has staked a claim on since they arrived. She sits there now, reapplying her lipstick. On the table, her makeup brushes are scattered. The lipstick she’s applying , her signature red, was newly bought before the trip but now it’s almost down to a nub. Something feels wrong and it all started when they arrived. His usual meticulous wife was becoming messy and she didn’t laugh at his jokes as much. Outwardly, she looked fine but it felt like he was looking at a mirage. Any second, he thinks he’ll see through her neutral expression but her face was like stone. It scared him.

“Is everything alright, honey?”

She presses her lips together, admiring her lipstick in the mirror. Her lipstick tube is still in her hands. It takes a moment but she replies.

“Peachy.”

“Good,” he replies but his worry doesn’t ease. “Your father doesn’t seem very fond of me.”

“Hmm,” She replies with feigned interest.

“Do you know why he could hate me?”

She places the tube of lipstick down on the table. Her left-hand goes over to the silver bracelet worn on her right. She touches it and her hand recoils. For a brief second, he’s sure he caught sight of a burn but he shakes the idea off. She gets up from her vanity, heading over to the bed he himself is lying in. She lays beside him, turning her bedside table lamp off but his stays on.

“Daddy, doesn’t hate anyone, Harold,” she says, her voice strangely quiet. “Now, let’s get some sleep.”

The next day, they go back to his father-in-law’s place. They were going to stay there all day to help him clean which gave him a chance to explore the wearing down house. He comes across a hallway covered in portraits of women all of who look similar to his wife. Later on, when he sees her he asks her if that’s her mother and aunts.

“No, those were my sisters. My mother’s portraits are in my father’s study.”

“You had sisters…” He says with shock, his voice trailing.

“I was the youngest,” she says wistfully.

“W-What happened to them?” He wonders, thinking of how she never spoke of them.

“I think you should move the bookcase,” she replies, ignoring his question.”I’ll go and start dinner.”

She kisses his cheek, leaving the room and leaving him alone with questions that keep stacking up. Soon dinner comes and his wife serves a vast meal. Her father starts digging in without a word. He spats out the chicken, glaring at her.

“It’s too dry,” he comments with irritation.

“Sorry Daddy,” she replies with shame. “Why don’t you try the mashed potatoes?”

“Where’s the gravy?” He asks, looking around the table.

“I think I forgot it,” she says, her tone apologetic.

“We’ll go get it then!” He orders and she nods obediently following his orders.

His wife leaves the room and he glares at his father-in-law.

“You could’ve politely asked her to get the gravy, sir.”

“Don’t tell me what to do in my own house.” His father-in-law responds, hitting his fist on the table. “You already stole my property and you’ve got the—“

“Property?” He repeats then disgust crosses his features as realization hits. “Are you talking about your daughter?”

“She’s not your property or mine or anyone's.” He continues and is met with a scoff.

Before his father-in-law could reply, his wife walks back in with the gravy boat in her hands.

“Here you go, Daddy,” she says, handing it over to him.

“I think we should leave,” Harold says, getting up from the table.

His father-in-law protests but his wife agrees. Once back in the inn, his wife breaks down saying things he couldn’t make sense of.

“You don’t know what he did to me and what he did to them,” she says while sobbing.

Then she whispers something in his ear. A plan. He leaves the room, contemplating it over in his head. Leaving the inn, he wonders if the fresh air will give him perspective. It doesn’t. His head is the one that does all the talking. His wife’s father was a monster and if he could help free her then he should.

The next day at dinner, he enacts her plan. She hands him a sharp knife that they pretend is simply for cutting their steaks but once handed over, he stabs her father deep in the chest.

He does not die. Instead, he laughs. His laughs become a howl and the man is transformed. His wife looks unsurprised but he cowers. Her father takes the knife out of his chest, pointing it at her.

“You’ll join them soon.”

“No!” She screams, grabbing the knife from his hand to plunge it inside him herself.

This time he turns to ashes. Harold hears the sound of something falling. Her bracelet. She goes to pick it up but her form changes to that of a wolf.

“Hon—” he starts but she growls. ”Bridget.”

He gets on his knees, holding his arms out for her. “You did it!”

She moves towards him and responds with a victorious howl.

It was a small town, the type of place where everyone knew everyone. Children would play all day and all night. Adults would talk to each other and teens would gossip about what was going on at school. It was a peaceful town -- no discrimination, no racism, no bullying....nothing at all.

It was all like that until 1972, when the first case of bullying was recorded. You see, the Potato King was a cruel potato who liked bringing the mere concept of cruelty towards potatoes into human countries, towns, cities and villages. He had brought this concept to all the mentioned locations except that small town in Peacefulvania. He knew that, if he made all the humans bully potatoes, he would have gained control of the whole world, and so he did.

A passerby man called Sebastian was walking along the road after celebrating a huge birthday party hosted by his neighbor. He suddenly saw a walking, talking, breathing, blinking, speaking potato. Since he was infected by the Curse of All Potatoes (COAP), he insulted the poor potato, naming it 'the tomato-shaped potato'.

As a reaction to this cruel message sent out by Sebastian, it ran to another COAP-infected child, who also gave him the same nickname.

The same cruelty act spread through COAP and non-COAP people and soon, all this bullying and racism went on to the human beings themselves.

The mocked each other, they called each other 'dark chocolate' and 'tomato-looking ahh' and 'weird' and all sorts of names to each other. What was once a peaceful, small town was now a huge site of warfare and narcissism and anyone who gave birth or was born after 1972 was bullied a lot until the age of 18.

"And that's the history of Unaria," said the history teacher. "Now I shall ask you some questions. Now, when did all the bullying start?"

It was a small town, the type of place where everyone knew everyone and Thomas’ story had already circulated around.

With a click of her tongue and a smile, his psychiatrist, Dr. Garza, says, "Elizabeth, you do realize the gravity of this situation, right? We must take precautions to ensure it never happens again."

Elizabeth chuckles softly, affectionately rubbing Thomas’ head. "Happen again? Oh no, it won't. Tommy and I have talked and he’s doing much better."

Firmly, Elizabeth asserts, "I'll take care of him. He's my son."

"Alright then. I've prescribed medication that Thomas needs to take daily. I'll see both of you next week, agreed?"

Elizabeth shakes her hand before briskly guiding Tommy out of the building. "Honestly, Tommy, I just don't understand." She says as they walk towards the car.

Tommy stays silent. Truth be told, he doesn’t understand either. He didn’t understand anything.

"Can you manage staying home alone? Do I need to stay with you? I have to go to work, you know. I shouldn't have to babysit you like a child."

Although Tommy wants to remind her that it IS her responsibility to look after him and that he IS still a child, her child, he simply mutters, "I'm sorry."

After a few moments of silence, Tommy asks something. "You've been taking care of Tabby, right, Mom?"

"Yes, I've been taking care of Tabby. She's been getting fatter, I think she needs a diet." Elizabeth replies.

"She doesn't need a diet. You must be feeding her too much."

"I don't overfeed her. Maybe she's sneaking into the cat food while I'm at work." Elizabeth defends herself, ending the conversation.

When they pull into the driveway, the neighbors are all gathered outside their house, holding pans of food, flowers, and gifts. You would think someone had died. The moment they step out of the car, they all rush towards them, talking all at once.

"Thomas, I made some lasagna for you."

"Elizabeth, I'm so sorry."

"Do you need anything?"

"I'd be happy to babysit while you work."

"Did you really try to kill yourself, Thomas?"

Thomas doesn’t have a chance to respond before Elizabeth does,"No, of course not! He was just sick. He's much better now." She assures, wearing her model smile, known to Thomas as her "fake smile."

"Thank you, guys." He manages to say, pushing past the crowd and heading inside. "Tabitha? Tabby?" he calls out. Instantly, she comes running towards him.

"Oh, I missed you so much. I promise I'll never leave you again." He whispers, lifting Tabby and kissing her soft orange fur. With a playful tone, he asks, "Did Mom behave herself while I was away?"

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang, followed by shattering glass. Thomas sets Tabby down and approaches the window, which has been broken by a brick. Picking up the brick and dusting off the glass shards, he reads the bold letters scrawled across it: "PSYCHO."

"Barbarians." He mutters. “They’re going to talk about this for the rest of my life.”

Elizabeth enters the house, placing a pile of gifts on the table. "Did you break the window?" she questions once she notices it.

"What? Why would I do that?" Tommy replies, offended by the assumption.

She snatches the brick from his hand and reads it. "Psycho?" Turning it around, she continued, "Path."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "They could have fit the whole word on one side."

Elizabeth groans and uselessly locks the door. "See what happens when you do things like this, Thomas? You're ruining my good reputation." She storms away.

Thomas sighs ands stares out the window, memories from that day popping into his head. Fortunately, there’s a distant shout, pulling him back to the present. At first, he thinks that he misheard, but then the chant grows louder with each repetition, echoing through the street.

"Tommy Pony! Tommy Pony! Tommy Pony!"

His face drains of color, and his heart races within his chest. "Oh no." He whispers, while Tabby brushes against his leg. "They found it." That nickname he had fought so hard to erase from existence.

One of the kids from the chanting group approaches the broken window, a smirk on their face. "Welcome back, Tommy Pony," they sneer before vanishing down the street, taking their relentless chants with them.