The first day of school is always nerve racking, unless you make it fun. Take Michael Charles for example. Michael always wanted to find a way to make school fun. Like in third grade he tried to get a little laughter into the kids system by trying to make it snow, in the classroom! Instead Michael ended up with a substitute teacher for a month because Miss Ingle, his original teacher, slipped on the ice he poured and broke her nose. In fourth grade he was a little too exited to go to the beach for a field trip, so decided to bring the beach to school. Michael Charles was known as the sand man from that day on. But now Michael is in fifth grade where Miss Johnson will not have any enthusiasm for Michael’s behavior. As soon as Michael heard this, things got a little out of hand. Michael kind of took it the wrong way and tried to change Miss Johnsons mind. When the sixth graders, who had Miss Johnson, heard this they all wished Michael good luck.
For Michael the first day of fifth grade was, well let’s just say, it was awful! The kids were mean and the teacher was even worse. And they didn’t get recess as much as last year, in fact they didn’t get recess at all. Michael hated it, as well as everyone else in the classroom. The kids were miserable and they weren’t even in the middle of their first day yet. So, Michael knew, after the pop quiz that everyone flunked, it was time to take action. Some kids encouraged Michael and others not so much. But Michael didn’t care. He was so caught up in defeating the evil Miss Johnson, also known as Miss Joliath, that he hardly noticed them. On the second day Michael knew that today Miss Johnson would have at least a smirk on her face when she left Anmoring Elementary School. In order to accomplish this Michael had to get Miss Johnson out of the room. In order to do this Michael had to turn to a professional liar, his sister. Michael’s sister, Ann, was only six, but boy could she lie! She lied her way out of wearing an itchy, torn, unsown, shirt Michael’s blind grandma made for them by saying she was allergic to grandma’s smell. So Michael knew that if you needed a liar, Ann was the way to go. And Ann was all for it, you paid her. So Michael paid Ann sixty cents and they got down to business. “Miss Johnson! Miss Johnson!” Said Ann screaming into Miss Johnson’s classroom. “Someone is trying to eat your, umm, fat free fat cakes!” As soon as Miss Johnson fled Michael and his team popped in and readied the attack.
As Michael and his classmates waited in a giggly fashion, Miss Johnson had just walked in when…Splat! A pound of chowder came down on Miss Johnsons grey head of hair. Miss Johnson Screamed with extreme rage and anger. “Who did this?” Miss Johnson questioned. The class grew so quiet that you could only hear the heat coming from Miss Johnson. Again she asked in a hushed tone, “Who did this?” The kids all slowly pointed to Michael. “Michael Charles” Miss Johnson said in a not so surprised tone. “Y-ye-yes?” Michael stuttered to answer. Room 109 was silent. Finally after a minute of awkward silence Miss Johnson said quietly “Michael?” Slowly and nervously Michael answered “Y-yes?” With a fiery, angry, raging voice Miss Johnson replied “DETENTION!”
It was finally Friday, and the students in Miss Johnson’s class were very tired from all the lectures, pop quizzes, and just from listening to what she had to say. At home Michael got a lot of grief from his parents about getting a detention. His mom was disappointed. His dad figured Michael would get a detention sooner or later. And his sister, well, she just laughed. Michael knew it was wrong to get a detention, but the question in his mind was why he got the detention in the first place. All Michael was trying to do was put a smile on Miss Johnson’s saggy, old, grey face that was never lov-. Michael cut himself off to think. Miss Johnson isn’t married, is she? For a minute Michael had a cold chill come over him and thought. Maybe she stuffed an apple in his mouth and locked him in the teachers lounge or maybe…?
At school Michael’s curiosity grew to the point where he wouldn’t even talk to Miss Johnson. In class Michael just sat there staring at Miss Johnson. Every second she looked more and more like a criminal, well in his mind. “Michael” said Miss Johnson in a firm questioning way. “What is the square root of 144?” Michael understood the question and he knew the answer but it seemed like the only thing Michael could even think about saying was “You’re a criminal!” For some reason everyone turned around wide-eyed looking at him with there mouths open. Suddenly Michael realized that he didn’t just think it he said it too!
When class ended Miss Johnson asked Michael to stay behind. Right after she closed the door behind the other children, Michael knew exactly what this was about. “I am not impressed with your behavior, Michael. I am too busy to give you your detention that I’m cutting it off, because it is the beginning of the year.” Michael sighed a breath of relief. “But I do want to have a conference with your parents.” Michael breathed worriedly. “I would like to talk to you and your parents about calling me a criminal, having your sister lie to me, pouring chowder on my head, teaching my students disrespect! Honestly, Michael this has got to stop!” When Miss Johnson released him, Michael ran out of the room and went straight home, being very carful not to tell his parents.
When Michael got home he didn’t say hi or anything. He just ran to his room. As Michael was laying on his bed thinking, he knew, as he reviewed what Miss Johnson said, that he would have to change. So on Wednesday Michael was not Michael! His hair was gelled and he, for some reason, was wearing white strips! People laughed, stared, and teased Michael that day but he just laughed along with them. Miss Johnson was the most and only impressed person in the whole school. And for the first time, since first grade, Michael Charles studied! And when his best friend, Tyler, asked to hang out with him Michael said, “No, I have to study.” So everyone knew, after that, they needed to loosen him up.
At school nothing changed. The cafeteria was loud, the classrooms were insane, and Michael was, well, not Michael. Michael’s classmates were secretly planning a surprise that would get Michael Charles to finally CRACK! When Michael walked into his homeroom he walked into a party! There were streamers, party favors and a big sign? Michael read the sign which said,
YOU CAN ONLY PARTY IF YOU CAN HAVE FUN
Michael didn’t understand the sign so he just hopped in to join all the kids dancing and was pushed right back out.
“Didn’t you read the sign, Michael?” Asked Jessica Connors, a girl in Michael’s class. “Only fun people can come in.”
“But, but I am fun! Michael sighed. “Well what am I supposed to do while you all are having fun?” Asked Michael.
“You get to sit with Miss Johnson.” Declared Tyler.
So Michael went to sit with Miss Johnson and had a nice big chat.
Miss Johnson told him that she too was a fifth grader, whether he believed it or not. She also told Michael that even if he feels he should change himself just to make someone happier to remember that she always wants her students to express themselves. Miss Johnson told Michael that the things he did this year were good memories and were shortcuts through fifth grade. “Remember, Michael. School would go by quickly if you yourself made the school year fun and exiting and got some learning in” Miss Johnson laughed “And don’t hate the teacher.”
-By Emily Gaul
Age 11
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The story of Blu the Basset Hound
The sun rose early on the little town of Summer. Our story begins in a small animal shelter called Paws. The first sound of the day was always the same wake – up call by a small grumpy man. Here, he was very mean to all the dogs in the shelter. Of course the owner, a sweet older man who knew nothing of his employees abusive ways. All of the other dogs but me tried to shrink into the corners of their cages every time he came down to feed us. That’s all he ever did was feed us. He never played with us or walked us in the field. He just dumped the cheapest dog food he could find on a plate and stuck it in the cage. I, a medium sized brown and white Basset Hound, was about the only one who was not afraid of him. Little did the man know I had a plan, a plan to escape this horrid prison. So when the man came towards my cage I was ready. As soon as he opened my cage I jumped out and ran for my life. “Hey get back here you little mutt!” The man screamed as he ran after me. But there was no stopping me! I had planned this great escape for years, and I was running so fast I almost tripped over my long floppy ears. At last I was at the door. I was so close to freedom. Until wham! “I got you now!” The man had trapped me under a net. I was stopped. A week had passed since I tried desperately to gain my freedom. I sat in my cage day after day and studied the man’s schedule- when he left for lunch, the exact moment he walked back in the door ect. I waited until I was absolutely sure the man had gone on his lunch break. I carefully slid the lock to the left and then down (A thing I so carefully watched the man do) A moment later I was walking out the door that the man carelessly left open. Finally! I was out of the shelter. I was so happy that I barked several times until I realized that someone would hear me barking and return me to the shelter. Everything looked and smelled so wonderful! The large Oak trees, the green grass, and of course the hot dog stands! A week later the greatness of everything around me was wearing off. Sure, in the day there were lots of things to see, but at night everything grew cold and dark. I was tired, homeless, and most importantly hungry. Things were not going as I planned. So when it started raining one night I ran. Soon my problem of getting wet turned into fright. I didn’t know where to turn next. I was scared of the lightning. I must have been whining loudly because a light flickered on in one of the houses and a girl stepped out on the porch with a giant pink umbrella. Hoping that the girl would take me in, I ran to her. She looked at me for a moment and then stepped aside leaving the door wide open. Even though I was dying to run inside the house, I still cautiously sniffed around, looked once more at the girl, and ran in. I soon came to love the girl. She was so kind to me, but still she had posted up “Found” posters all over town. I knew sooner or later the guy at the animal shelter would recognize my picture, and come to lead me to my doom. When the guy did come I was ready to defend my self. I soon found out I didn’t have to. The girl found out I lived at the shelter and adopted me! She gave me my name, Blu. I knew that I finally found a place that I could call home.
THE END
-By Aleah Chambers
Age 11
THE END
-By Aleah Chambers
Age 11
Thursday, July 23, 2009
There’s Something About Peter
Beth Silvers and her husband, Harry, pulled their black mini-van into the dirt driveway of their new home. The house was a rather small two-story, with a nice front porch and a patio out back. There was a fairly large amount of land for such a tiny house, and a sprawling forest behind it. Beth stepped out of the car and breathed in the fresh country air. The scent of pine tickled her nose, and she smiled cheerfully. Harry, a tough, burly man, stepped out next. He scowled angrily (he only bought the house because it was cheap), and started to unpack the van. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. “How are you guys’ doin’?”
Beth gasped and turned around. A man with black hair and a straw hat stood there. He gave her a wide smile. “Sorry, Ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare ya. What’s your name?”
Before Beth could answer, Harry stepped up. Shoving her roughly out of the way, he said, “I’m Harry, and this is my wife, Beth-” He obviously meant to keep talking; however, the man with the straw hat interrupted him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Beth. I’m Peter Smith. I’ve lived here for a while, and I’d like to give you some advice about this place.” He walked over to her and helped her up, smiling his toothy grin the whole time. As he pulled her to her feet, her blouse sleeve slipped off her shoulder, revealing a large bruise that was about the size of a fist. Peter eyed the bruise and said, “That looks awfully painful, Beth. Where’d ya get it?” As he said this, his smile disappeared, and he noticed a look of fear pass over Beth’s face. “I-It’s nothing,” she muttered quietly. Peter shrugged. “If you say so. Come, please follow me. There’s something really important I have to tell you two.”
Peter led Beth and Harry to the back of their house, and he immediately pointed out the forest to them. When Beth first saw the forest, she thought it looked rather pretty, the perfect pines standing straight and tall; however, now that Peter was looking at them with a weird expression on his face, the forest looked – well, creepy-- menacing, even. Peter spoke, his southern drawl disappearing. “Don’t go into the woods by yourselves, unless someone who knows their way around them, such as me, is with you. Many newcomers have disappeared in there.” He turned to look at Beth and added his southern accent returning and his eyes sparkling brightly, “Especially pretty women such as you.” Harry’s face turned red with rage, and it got even redder when Peter winked at her playfully. Beth could only pray that Harry wouldn’t totally lose it and punch Peter square in the jaw. Peter turned and walked away. Shouting over his shoulder, he announced, “I have to go now. I thought there would be more time to talk, but night is coming and I have to be getting home. See you tomorrow.”
***
That night, Beth lay awake in bed, while Harry slept beside her. Beth wanted to sleep too, but she couldn’t. It’s probably because it’s my first night in this house, she thought to herself. But she knew that wasn’t right.
The thing that was keeping her awake was Peter.
Peter was a nice, cheerful man. She liked him (especially that smile!), but there were a few things about him that confused her. For one thing, there were no houses for at least a mile. It was one thing to walk all the way to their house- and almost beat them there- without knowing that they were coming in advance. And it was quite another to walk all the way back to his house and expect to get there before dark. She supposed that he could have driven; however, he had come by foot, and the last car she had seen was at the little town, complete with one barbershop, two markets, and a small, walk-in clinic. She had also noticed that he had tried his best to stay in the shadows, yet seemed nervous about night falling. And when he had gone in the sun, she had noticed something very disturbing about him.
Peter didn’t have a shadow.
***
The next morning, Beth and Harry were eating breakfast when a knocking sound came at the door. Beth thought it was Peter; however, when she answered the door, a man and a little boy were standing there. The man tipped his hat at her and said, “Morning, Ma’am. I’m George, and this is my son, Billy. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” At that moment, Harry called from the kitchen: “Beth! Get over here!” Beth looked at George and Billy and smiled shyly. “One second, please. I’ll be right back.”
Beth walked into the kitchen, where Harry was waiting. Without a word, Harry pointed out the back window. Beth looked out, and was surprised to see Peter there. “I’ll talk to him. Harry, would you mind talking to George and Billy? They came to welcome us to the neighborhood.”
Harry went to speak with their visitors, and Beth went out the back door to confront Peter. He was standing in the sun, and was wearing the same straw hat that he had been wearing yesterday. Peter turned to look at her and gave her a small smile. “Hello, Beth.” He then turned his attention back to the woods. Beth put a hand gingerly on Peter’s shoulder. “Harry wants to know what you’re doing here.”
Peter smiled smugly. “If he wants to know, why’d he send you out here?” Beth suppressed a giggle and prepared to respond, but Peter interrupted her. The smug smile had disappeared, and it was replaced with a frown that showed deep concern. “I came here to talk about your bruise. It was about the size of your husband’s fist. Does he hurt you, Beth?”
Beth found herself confiding in a man that she met a day ago. She poured out how she married Harry out of fear, and how he beat her if he wasn’t happy with what she did. She found herself crying her eyes out, and when she looked up, Peter was gone. Harry stood there, frowning angrily. “Why are you crying?” he shouted bitterly.
Beth smiled meekly. “I-I fell.” Harry’s eyes narrowed, and for a second she thought he would hit her. However, he only went inside, and he called over his shoulder, “Go into town and pick up my tools!” Beth nodded, and followed him inside.
***
As Beth drove into town, her mind was scrambled with thoughts. The most prominent of these, however, was how she had told Peter things she would have never told anyone else. Peter was no more than a casual acquaintance, yet she had treated him like he was her closest friend. Beth realized that, maybe, she hadn’t told him that stuff on her own free will. He had been staring deep into her eyes while they were talking; perhaps it was some kind of hypnotism? She laughed at the absurdity of this, but something in the back of her mind told her that this idea wasn’t as bizarre as she thought it was. In fact, it was probably true. There’s something about Peter, Beth thought to herself. Something very weird about him.
She pulled into the town just as an argument broke out between two men. She quickly pulled into a parking space that was just outside the hardware store, and went to go inside. However, the two men seemed to have a different idea for her. One of them, with bigger muscles than even Harry, reached out and grabbed her arm. Beth gasped and tried to pull away; however, it was impossible to break free of his painful grip. “Hey, lady! Which one of us would you rather get with?” They laughed, and Beth struggled some more. “Neither! Now let go of me!” The men broke out in fits of laughter again, and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar straw hat. Beth cried out in a pained voice, “Peter! Peter! Help me!”
Peter glanced over, and when he saw the two men hurting Beth, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing? Let her go!” The men saw Peter, and Beth realized that she had made a mistake. Peter was tall, and well-built; however, he definitely wasn’t strong or tough. Nevertheless, the men took one look at him and the big-muscled one let go of her immediately. They quickly piled into a pick-up truck and sped off, leaving nothing but a few empty beer cans behind. She glanced over at Peter, and the look in his eyes was so dark and evil that she almost ran away. That bloodcurdling look quickly vanished, so only the pleasant man that had gone out of his way to befriend her and Harry remained. “Thank you, Peter,” Beth said quietly. “No problem,” he said, smiling. He threw her a wink and said, “Want me to walk you in?” Beth was about to say yes, but when that cold glare started to creep into his eyes again, she quickly said “No thanks” and ran into the store.
***
Beth found herself walking down a long dark tunnel. The floor was earthen, and little animals (mice?) scurried around her. She then realized that it wasn’t a tunnel after all, but a muddy path covered in dead leaves that someone had made through the forest. She saw a man standing at the end of the path and, even though she couldn’t see the face, she knew it was Peter because she could feel his cold eyes boring into her. She was scared, but she still kept walking toward him. Soon, she could see his face, and his smile wasn’t the usual happy one that she liked and was used to. This one chilled her to the bone, and looked nothing like a smile that she would expect Peter to wear. Her husband, maybe, but definitely not Peter. She suddenly bumped into him, and realized that she was now face to face with Peter. Is this even Peter?! her mind screamed at her. Before she could answer this question, he spoke. “I know we just met, but I have a little request.”
Beth found herself refusing before she even knew what it was. “No. I-I can’t-” Peter gently covered her mouth. She pulled away. His smile was normal again, and his eyes were filled with compassion and (love?) friendship. “Beth, please help me. I can’t do this by myself. I really need your help. Say you will, Beth.” His eyes had such a pleading look to them that she just couldn’t refuse. His eyes lit up when she said yes, and he embraced her. She felt him kiss her on the cheek, though she was pretty sure (hopeful, even) that it was just her imagination. “Thank you,” he whispered. She went to respond, but Peter shushed her. “Beth, you do know that you’re dreaming, right?”
Beth sat up in a flash, her body wet with perspiration. Harry was staring at her like she was insane. “What’s wrong with you? You were talking in your sleep. Said something about the forest and some old tree.” Beth looked around her. Sure enough, she was sitting up in her bed, with Harry lying next to her. She could see the familiar wood walls, and the floor definitely wasn’t the leafy ground of the forest. So it had been a dream… but what did Harry say about a tree? She remembered the entire conversation exactly, and not once was an old tree mentioned. Maybe I missed something? I’m sure I would’ve remembered that, she thought.
***
One month after they had moved in, Beth and Harry were finally completely settled in. They had made more friends than just Peter, but Beth still liked Peter the most, mainly because he had been so open to accepting them when they first met. She actually spent a lot of time with him, and really did like him. Harry had, of course, noticed this, and this caused the couple to become even more distant. Harry was on the phone a lot, and one day he had gotten a call from his parents. They asked him to come over, and with his relationship as strained as it was with his wife, he readily agreed.
“Beth, my parents want me to visit them and- What’s he doing here?” Peter and Beth, who were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, both looked up. Beth smiled and said, “We were just talking about a project we were working on.” Peter added, “You can help us if you want.”
Harry scowled. “Why would I help you? Any way, Beth, I need to go to my parents’ house. I won’t be home tonight.” He turned to leave, and Beth got up and followed him. “Harry, why are you telling me this now? I should have already known about this! Do you want me to go with you?” He responded, shortly after getting in the car, “Beth, my parents always tell us stuff on short notice. And I’m perfectly capable of going by myself.” He then added sarcastically, “Maybe I won’t even come back, since you seem to be spending most of your time with Peter anyway.”
Before Beth could even respond, Harry had driven away. Peter walked outside and gave her a shovel. “Let’s go, Beth! We need to start working.” Beth sighed and looked at Peter. “Okay, but can we not work too long today? This work gets really tiring…’
Peter smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “I really want to finish this! But if it will make you happy, we’ll quit early today.”
***
Peter and Beth soon arrived at the tree. It was a large oak tree, and the two of them had been digging a hole in front of it. They had been working on it for about two weeks, and every day, Peter insisted on working longer and longer hours. Every night when she went to bed, her arms burned with pain, and she would come close to crying. That was why she wanted to quit work early today, because she didn’t want to kill herself digging a hole. What she really didn’t like, however, was that Peter didn’t help her at all. He called it “their little project,” but he would just dictate while she did all the work. Beth figured out that it would be best if she pointed this out to Peter, so he could work while she took a break. “Peter? I need to talk to you.”
He glanced over and smiled at her. “What’s up, Beth?”
“Peter, whenever we work on this thing, I always have to do everything. Why can’t you help me? This isn’t just my project!”
Peter sighed and smiled again. “I’ll work today. You take a break, Beth. You deserve it, what with all the hard work you’ve been doing.” Beth sat down with relief, while Peter started digging. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea why they were even doing this. “Peter, what’s the point of this hole anyway?”
Peter spoke without turning. “You’ll see,” he said as he continued to dig.
***
Beth found herself walking through a dark house. She didn’t know whose house it was, but she knew that it wasn’t hers because she didn’t recognize anything in it. The basic setup was the same, but that was just about it.
She found herself walking into the kitchen. The kitchen was as dark as the rest of the house; however, she seemed to know exactly where she was going.
She walked to a small corner.
Beth had no idea why she was there, but she found herself picking up a knife that was on the floor. This was totally against her will, as she told herself to stop but she didn’t. Am I possessed? she thought.
Now Beth was walking up the stairs. She saw a dark patch on one of them, and she prayed it wasn’t blood. She finished climbing the stairs and came to a long hallway. Beth didn’t want to walk down that hallway, not with all the dark spots on the carpet. She commanded herself to stop, but somehow she kept on walking.
At the end of the hallway was a little room. Her hand reached out to touch the doorknob, and as she slowly turned it, she realized that the patches on the floor- and the stairs- were leading to this very room. Sobs echoed out from behind the door, and the man- for that’s what it was- cried out, “Who did this to you? Oh, my poor son!”
At first, Beth thought that she was going to comfort the poor man. Then she remembered the knife. She glanced at it, and gasped, as she saw that it was covered in blood. She walked into the room, and he turned around. His eyes settled on the knife, and they widened. “Oh no! Not YOU! How could you do this!?”
She raised the knife, and he fell backwards. Beth began to stab him and as she did so, she cried and cried. Why am I killing this poor man? she thought to herself.
The last thing she heard the man scream was, “NO! STOP IT! I’M YOUR HUSBAND! YOUR HUSBAND!”
***
“Beth! Wake up!” Beth shot up like a bullet, smashing her head against Peter’s, who had been leaning over her. Peter flew backwards, holding his head where they had collided. Beth, her own head throbbing and tears pouring from her eyes (though not from pain), leaned over him and asked him if he was okay. Peter nodded and said, “I was digging, and when I looked over at you, you had fallen asleep. Then you started screaming, and I tried to wake you up… What were you screaming about, any way?”
“Peter, I… I killed… I KILLED A MAN!” She started crying again, and as Peter comforted her and told her it was only a dream, a very bad dream, that dark, familiar look crept back into his face.
***
That night, Beth lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Harry wasn’t home yet, and he had neglected to call. Beth was alone. She was very tired, but she didn’t want to fall asleep, as she was afraid that the dream would come back to haunt her. Beth knew now that, in the dream, she had killed the boy that the man had been crying over, and she didn’t want to relive killing the poor man all over again.
Another thought struck her. Didn’t the man say he was her husband? her mind questioned her. While he did look familiar, it definitely wasn’t Harry. For one thing, Harry had big muscles. This man was physically fit, but he didn’t have large muscles. Also, Harry never cried, and this man was bawling. You also don’t have kids the voice in her head reminded her. Beth sighed. She really wanted to have children, but it never seemed to work out for her and Harry.
She curled up in a ball and cried herself to sleep. That night, her dreams were haunted by visions of ghosts and murder.
***
The next morning, Beth went into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Harry hadn’t come back last night either, so she was still in the house by herself. She popped some bread in the toaster and walked to the fridge. She took the butter out and put it on the kitchen table. Then, she sat down to wait for her toast.
That was when someone knocked at the door.
She walked over to answer the door. Peter was there, and he was holding a set of car keys. He smiled at her, and she invited him inside. “Harry hasn’t come back yet, huh?” asked Peter. She shook her head no, and started up a pot of coffee.
Peter took a seat at the kitchen table. After a moments silence, he said, “Beth, I’m going to leave my truck here. I thought you could use it if you ever need to get into town.” He smiled, jingled the keys at her and laid them on the tabletop.
She brought the toast and the coffee to the table. She offered Peter a slice, but he politely refused. Then, she said, “Thank you for the truck, Peter, but won’t you need it to get into town yourself?”
He smiled and said, “I prefer walking… So, has Harry called you lately?” he questioned her, sensing her unease.
“No, he hasn’t. I’m getting a little worried about him. Normally, he would have called me by now.”
“I wouldn’t be too worried about it. Harry is a tough guy, so I’m pretty sure he can handle anything that comes his way.”
Just then, the phone rang. Peter was closest to it, so he answered it. “Hello?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Beth’s friend, Peter. Who are you?”
“Oh. Hi, Peter. It’s Harry. Would you put Beth on, please?”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Peter handed the phone to Beth. “It’s Harry.”
“Thanks, Peter.” Beth put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Harry.”
“Why is Peter with you?”
“He was going to let me borrow his truck while you were gone. Harry, you’ve been gone for some time and haven’t even called me.”
“I’m going to be at my parent’s house for a while because the two of us need some time apart.” Another voice, which was probably Harry’s Mom, called out, “Harry! Breakfast!” Harry said, with a slight tone of relief, “Gotta go, Beth.” Without even a good-bye or an I Love You, Harry hung up. Beth sighed and placed the phone back in its cradle. Peter had a look on his face that said, I want to say something, but I’ll wait ‘till you feel better.
Beth looked at Peter and forced herself to smile. “Let’s go, Peter. We have work to do.” Peter smiled back, and stood up.
***
In the forest, Beth and Peter dug in shifts. Peter was digging first, he would dig for thirty minutes or so, and then it would be her turn. Beth always found herself digging a little bit longer than Peter did, but she didn’t want to talk to him, as she had finally placed why the man in her dream looked so familiar.
The man in her dream had looked like Peter.
She knew it couldn’t possibly be Peter. For one thing, Peter was solid, and ghosts weren’t solid. She had hugged him good-bye before, she had accidentally bashed her head against his, and he had held her and comforted her as a good friend would when she had had that awful dream. So despite all these factors, why did the man look so much like her friend?
Maybe he had a brother, she thought. Her mind immediately snapped back, He would have told you!
Peter grabbed her shoulder and shook her roughly. Beth gasped and turned over and looked at Peter. His face was filled with concern, and he appeared a little scared. “Are you all right, Beth? You looked like you were about to faint.”
Beth stared at Peter and said, surprisingly calm, “Peter, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Peter seemed surprised and a little hurt. “Beth, you know you can trust me.”
Beth looked him in the eyes. He wasn’t smiling, but something told her that he was lying to her. “I think you’re hiding something.”
Peter’s eyes grew sad and pleading. “Finish digging, Beth. That’s all I ask. I can’t do this by myself. Please help me!” As with the first dream, Peter’s eyes had an irresistible pleading look to them.
Beth sighed and nodded. She thought about the dreams, shivered, and resumed digging.
Suddenly, the shovel clinked against something. Beth looked down, startled. The sunlight that filtered through the trees showed something white. Several things, actually. Beth was too shocked to scream.
What she and Peter were looking at were a bunch of bones.
Peter smiled. “Okay Beth, we’re almost done. All we have to do is bring these to the graveyard.”
She nodded dumbly, still too shocked to respond. She helped Peter gather up the bones. Then, her legs felt like rubber- and everything went black.
***
Beth woke up in the woods. Everything was still dark, and it dawned on her that it was night. She stood up and looked around. Peter was nowhere in sight, and neither were the bones. She shuddered at the thought of them.
She remembered something that Peter had said when they had first met: “Don’t go into the woods by yourselves, unless someone who knows their way around them, such as me, is with you.”
Beth realized that Peter wasn’t there. She knew where she lived, but there really weren’t any landmarks, not to mention all the trees made it so easy to get lost. She sat at the base of the tree and started to cry. Peter was so concerned about his stupid bones that he had completely forgotten about her, and left her alone in there. She glanced down, and her eyes rested on the pile of bones. Peter had left her and the bones there… but where did he go?
A hand descended onto her shoulder. She gasped and turned around, and she immediately came face to face with Peter. She didn’t know if it was the moonlight or not, but he definitely looked paler… and transparent.
“Beth, I was keeping a secret from you. A BIG secret. You see, those bones… are mine.”
Beth just stared at him blankly. Naturally, she would have been shocked, but somehow, deep inside, she had been expecting this.
Peter continued talking. “I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t want to scare you away. I’ve been waiting so long to be put to rest, so when you came, I thought I would have finally had my chance.’
Beth looked at him. “That man in my dream… Was it you?”
Peter nodded. “Yes, it was.” He confided. You see my wife… Well, she was kind of crazy. I usually could keep her in check, but one day she just lost it and… Well, you know what happened next.”
Beth realized that she was crying. Peter saw this and smiled. “Thank you for everything, Beth. All you have to do now is bury me in the graveyard, and I’ll finally be put to rest.”
Beth nodded, and she and Peter gathered up the bones and left.
***
While they were walking, Peter had told her about his wife, and why he and his son were buried at the tree. His wife was crazy, and one day when he wasn’t home she had gotten enraged at something their son had done. When Peter had come home, their son’s dead body was there to greet him. His wife, who was still angry, had killed him as well, and only then did she finally calm down. The reason they were buried at the tree was because Peter’s wife didn’t know what to do, so she buried him and his son’s bodies there. So, in reality, Peter’s spirit was representing both his spirit and his son’s.
There had been an investigation, but their bodies had never been found. For a while, he would appear to people through dreams and beg them to help him. No one would, however, as Beth’s house was the one he had died in- and, as a result they knew he was a ghost, and they would pack up their bags and leave almost immediately after. He had decided to wait for the right person, someone who had never heard his story and, therefore, wouldn’t be scared when he arrived - and that had been Beth. It was at this point in the story that they had reached the town cemetery.
Beth thought that it would have taken her longer to dig the grave, but it actually didn’t take long at all. She had a feeling that Peter was sending her strength, and after everything that had happened so far, she figured that it was true.
When she finished, Beth looked up at Peter’s ghost and said, “I guess you’re leaving now.”
Peter nodded and smiled. “I’ll always be there for you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and said, “I’ll be lonely with you gone. ”
Peter said, “Back when I was alive, I had a friend named Eric Simon. He lived in Detroit… He would probably take care of you and help you out if you needed a friend.”
“Really?”
“Yes… Especially if you tell him that Peter sent ya.” He winked.
“I’ll really miss you.”
“I know. I’ll miss you, too. Good-bye.”
“Bye.” Peter vanished. The last thing he did before leaving this world was wink at her. Beth looked down at the mound of freshly turned dirt where Peter now lay and felt tears stinging her eyes. Quietly, she let them flow.
***
Beth had finished packing her bags, and had loaded them in the red truck Peter had given her. She only packed her clothes and a few small belongings in her suitcases, and some other things in Harry’s. She had decided to go to Detroit and find that Eric guy after all. Even though she had never met him, she figured he would help her out if she mentioned Peter.
Beth had decided to leave Harry. She thought about leaving him a note, but she decided against it. Beth knew Harry’s type, so if she told him about her plans to go to Detroit, he would probably follow her and force her to come back with him. Besides, when Harry discovered that her stuff was missing from the house, he should get the hint.
She turned around and took one last look at the house. It was the type of house she wanted, but she couldn’t stay there- not after all she had been through. If Harry wanted it, he could have it.
Her destination set in her heart, she got into the pick-up truck, and put the keys in the ignition. She revved up the engine, backed down the driveway, then headed forward down the long stretch of road that paved the way to her uncertain future.
-By Sabrina Chianese
Age 13
Beth gasped and turned around. A man with black hair and a straw hat stood there. He gave her a wide smile. “Sorry, Ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare ya. What’s your name?”
Before Beth could answer, Harry stepped up. Shoving her roughly out of the way, he said, “I’m Harry, and this is my wife, Beth-” He obviously meant to keep talking; however, the man with the straw hat interrupted him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Beth. I’m Peter Smith. I’ve lived here for a while, and I’d like to give you some advice about this place.” He walked over to her and helped her up, smiling his toothy grin the whole time. As he pulled her to her feet, her blouse sleeve slipped off her shoulder, revealing a large bruise that was about the size of a fist. Peter eyed the bruise and said, “That looks awfully painful, Beth. Where’d ya get it?” As he said this, his smile disappeared, and he noticed a look of fear pass over Beth’s face. “I-It’s nothing,” she muttered quietly. Peter shrugged. “If you say so. Come, please follow me. There’s something really important I have to tell you two.”
Peter led Beth and Harry to the back of their house, and he immediately pointed out the forest to them. When Beth first saw the forest, she thought it looked rather pretty, the perfect pines standing straight and tall; however, now that Peter was looking at them with a weird expression on his face, the forest looked – well, creepy-- menacing, even. Peter spoke, his southern drawl disappearing. “Don’t go into the woods by yourselves, unless someone who knows their way around them, such as me, is with you. Many newcomers have disappeared in there.” He turned to look at Beth and added his southern accent returning and his eyes sparkling brightly, “Especially pretty women such as you.” Harry’s face turned red with rage, and it got even redder when Peter winked at her playfully. Beth could only pray that Harry wouldn’t totally lose it and punch Peter square in the jaw. Peter turned and walked away. Shouting over his shoulder, he announced, “I have to go now. I thought there would be more time to talk, but night is coming and I have to be getting home. See you tomorrow.”
***
That night, Beth lay awake in bed, while Harry slept beside her. Beth wanted to sleep too, but she couldn’t. It’s probably because it’s my first night in this house, she thought to herself. But she knew that wasn’t right.
The thing that was keeping her awake was Peter.
Peter was a nice, cheerful man. She liked him (especially that smile!), but there were a few things about him that confused her. For one thing, there were no houses for at least a mile. It was one thing to walk all the way to their house- and almost beat them there- without knowing that they were coming in advance. And it was quite another to walk all the way back to his house and expect to get there before dark. She supposed that he could have driven; however, he had come by foot, and the last car she had seen was at the little town, complete with one barbershop, two markets, and a small, walk-in clinic. She had also noticed that he had tried his best to stay in the shadows, yet seemed nervous about night falling. And when he had gone in the sun, she had noticed something very disturbing about him.
Peter didn’t have a shadow.
***
The next morning, Beth and Harry were eating breakfast when a knocking sound came at the door. Beth thought it was Peter; however, when she answered the door, a man and a little boy were standing there. The man tipped his hat at her and said, “Morning, Ma’am. I’m George, and this is my son, Billy. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” At that moment, Harry called from the kitchen: “Beth! Get over here!” Beth looked at George and Billy and smiled shyly. “One second, please. I’ll be right back.”
Beth walked into the kitchen, where Harry was waiting. Without a word, Harry pointed out the back window. Beth looked out, and was surprised to see Peter there. “I’ll talk to him. Harry, would you mind talking to George and Billy? They came to welcome us to the neighborhood.”
Harry went to speak with their visitors, and Beth went out the back door to confront Peter. He was standing in the sun, and was wearing the same straw hat that he had been wearing yesterday. Peter turned to look at her and gave her a small smile. “Hello, Beth.” He then turned his attention back to the woods. Beth put a hand gingerly on Peter’s shoulder. “Harry wants to know what you’re doing here.”
Peter smiled smugly. “If he wants to know, why’d he send you out here?” Beth suppressed a giggle and prepared to respond, but Peter interrupted her. The smug smile had disappeared, and it was replaced with a frown that showed deep concern. “I came here to talk about your bruise. It was about the size of your husband’s fist. Does he hurt you, Beth?”
Beth found herself confiding in a man that she met a day ago. She poured out how she married Harry out of fear, and how he beat her if he wasn’t happy with what she did. She found herself crying her eyes out, and when she looked up, Peter was gone. Harry stood there, frowning angrily. “Why are you crying?” he shouted bitterly.
Beth smiled meekly. “I-I fell.” Harry’s eyes narrowed, and for a second she thought he would hit her. However, he only went inside, and he called over his shoulder, “Go into town and pick up my tools!” Beth nodded, and followed him inside.
***
As Beth drove into town, her mind was scrambled with thoughts. The most prominent of these, however, was how she had told Peter things she would have never told anyone else. Peter was no more than a casual acquaintance, yet she had treated him like he was her closest friend. Beth realized that, maybe, she hadn’t told him that stuff on her own free will. He had been staring deep into her eyes while they were talking; perhaps it was some kind of hypnotism? She laughed at the absurdity of this, but something in the back of her mind told her that this idea wasn’t as bizarre as she thought it was. In fact, it was probably true. There’s something about Peter, Beth thought to herself. Something very weird about him.
She pulled into the town just as an argument broke out between two men. She quickly pulled into a parking space that was just outside the hardware store, and went to go inside. However, the two men seemed to have a different idea for her. One of them, with bigger muscles than even Harry, reached out and grabbed her arm. Beth gasped and tried to pull away; however, it was impossible to break free of his painful grip. “Hey, lady! Which one of us would you rather get with?” They laughed, and Beth struggled some more. “Neither! Now let go of me!” The men broke out in fits of laughter again, and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar straw hat. Beth cried out in a pained voice, “Peter! Peter! Help me!”
Peter glanced over, and when he saw the two men hurting Beth, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing? Let her go!” The men saw Peter, and Beth realized that she had made a mistake. Peter was tall, and well-built; however, he definitely wasn’t strong or tough. Nevertheless, the men took one look at him and the big-muscled one let go of her immediately. They quickly piled into a pick-up truck and sped off, leaving nothing but a few empty beer cans behind. She glanced over at Peter, and the look in his eyes was so dark and evil that she almost ran away. That bloodcurdling look quickly vanished, so only the pleasant man that had gone out of his way to befriend her and Harry remained. “Thank you, Peter,” Beth said quietly. “No problem,” he said, smiling. He threw her a wink and said, “Want me to walk you in?” Beth was about to say yes, but when that cold glare started to creep into his eyes again, she quickly said “No thanks” and ran into the store.
***
Beth found herself walking down a long dark tunnel. The floor was earthen, and little animals (mice?) scurried around her. She then realized that it wasn’t a tunnel after all, but a muddy path covered in dead leaves that someone had made through the forest. She saw a man standing at the end of the path and, even though she couldn’t see the face, she knew it was Peter because she could feel his cold eyes boring into her. She was scared, but she still kept walking toward him. Soon, she could see his face, and his smile wasn’t the usual happy one that she liked and was used to. This one chilled her to the bone, and looked nothing like a smile that she would expect Peter to wear. Her husband, maybe, but definitely not Peter. She suddenly bumped into him, and realized that she was now face to face with Peter. Is this even Peter?! her mind screamed at her. Before she could answer this question, he spoke. “I know we just met, but I have a little request.”
Beth found herself refusing before she even knew what it was. “No. I-I can’t-” Peter gently covered her mouth. She pulled away. His smile was normal again, and his eyes were filled with compassion and (love?) friendship. “Beth, please help me. I can’t do this by myself. I really need your help. Say you will, Beth.” His eyes had such a pleading look to them that she just couldn’t refuse. His eyes lit up when she said yes, and he embraced her. She felt him kiss her on the cheek, though she was pretty sure (hopeful, even) that it was just her imagination. “Thank you,” he whispered. She went to respond, but Peter shushed her. “Beth, you do know that you’re dreaming, right?”
Beth sat up in a flash, her body wet with perspiration. Harry was staring at her like she was insane. “What’s wrong with you? You were talking in your sleep. Said something about the forest and some old tree.” Beth looked around her. Sure enough, she was sitting up in her bed, with Harry lying next to her. She could see the familiar wood walls, and the floor definitely wasn’t the leafy ground of the forest. So it had been a dream… but what did Harry say about a tree? She remembered the entire conversation exactly, and not once was an old tree mentioned. Maybe I missed something? I’m sure I would’ve remembered that, she thought.
***
One month after they had moved in, Beth and Harry were finally completely settled in. They had made more friends than just Peter, but Beth still liked Peter the most, mainly because he had been so open to accepting them when they first met. She actually spent a lot of time with him, and really did like him. Harry had, of course, noticed this, and this caused the couple to become even more distant. Harry was on the phone a lot, and one day he had gotten a call from his parents. They asked him to come over, and with his relationship as strained as it was with his wife, he readily agreed.
“Beth, my parents want me to visit them and- What’s he doing here?” Peter and Beth, who were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, both looked up. Beth smiled and said, “We were just talking about a project we were working on.” Peter added, “You can help us if you want.”
Harry scowled. “Why would I help you? Any way, Beth, I need to go to my parents’ house. I won’t be home tonight.” He turned to leave, and Beth got up and followed him. “Harry, why are you telling me this now? I should have already known about this! Do you want me to go with you?” He responded, shortly after getting in the car, “Beth, my parents always tell us stuff on short notice. And I’m perfectly capable of going by myself.” He then added sarcastically, “Maybe I won’t even come back, since you seem to be spending most of your time with Peter anyway.”
Before Beth could even respond, Harry had driven away. Peter walked outside and gave her a shovel. “Let’s go, Beth! We need to start working.” Beth sighed and looked at Peter. “Okay, but can we not work too long today? This work gets really tiring…’
Peter smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “I really want to finish this! But if it will make you happy, we’ll quit early today.”
***
Peter and Beth soon arrived at the tree. It was a large oak tree, and the two of them had been digging a hole in front of it. They had been working on it for about two weeks, and every day, Peter insisted on working longer and longer hours. Every night when she went to bed, her arms burned with pain, and she would come close to crying. That was why she wanted to quit work early today, because she didn’t want to kill herself digging a hole. What she really didn’t like, however, was that Peter didn’t help her at all. He called it “their little project,” but he would just dictate while she did all the work. Beth figured out that it would be best if she pointed this out to Peter, so he could work while she took a break. “Peter? I need to talk to you.”
He glanced over and smiled at her. “What’s up, Beth?”
“Peter, whenever we work on this thing, I always have to do everything. Why can’t you help me? This isn’t just my project!”
Peter sighed and smiled again. “I’ll work today. You take a break, Beth. You deserve it, what with all the hard work you’ve been doing.” Beth sat down with relief, while Peter started digging. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea why they were even doing this. “Peter, what’s the point of this hole anyway?”
Peter spoke without turning. “You’ll see,” he said as he continued to dig.
***
Beth found herself walking through a dark house. She didn’t know whose house it was, but she knew that it wasn’t hers because she didn’t recognize anything in it. The basic setup was the same, but that was just about it.
She found herself walking into the kitchen. The kitchen was as dark as the rest of the house; however, she seemed to know exactly where she was going.
She walked to a small corner.
Beth had no idea why she was there, but she found herself picking up a knife that was on the floor. This was totally against her will, as she told herself to stop but she didn’t. Am I possessed? she thought.
Now Beth was walking up the stairs. She saw a dark patch on one of them, and she prayed it wasn’t blood. She finished climbing the stairs and came to a long hallway. Beth didn’t want to walk down that hallway, not with all the dark spots on the carpet. She commanded herself to stop, but somehow she kept on walking.
At the end of the hallway was a little room. Her hand reached out to touch the doorknob, and as she slowly turned it, she realized that the patches on the floor- and the stairs- were leading to this very room. Sobs echoed out from behind the door, and the man- for that’s what it was- cried out, “Who did this to you? Oh, my poor son!”
At first, Beth thought that she was going to comfort the poor man. Then she remembered the knife. She glanced at it, and gasped, as she saw that it was covered in blood. She walked into the room, and he turned around. His eyes settled on the knife, and they widened. “Oh no! Not YOU! How could you do this!?”
She raised the knife, and he fell backwards. Beth began to stab him and as she did so, she cried and cried. Why am I killing this poor man? she thought to herself.
The last thing she heard the man scream was, “NO! STOP IT! I’M YOUR HUSBAND! YOUR HUSBAND!”
***
“Beth! Wake up!” Beth shot up like a bullet, smashing her head against Peter’s, who had been leaning over her. Peter flew backwards, holding his head where they had collided. Beth, her own head throbbing and tears pouring from her eyes (though not from pain), leaned over him and asked him if he was okay. Peter nodded and said, “I was digging, and when I looked over at you, you had fallen asleep. Then you started screaming, and I tried to wake you up… What were you screaming about, any way?”
“Peter, I… I killed… I KILLED A MAN!” She started crying again, and as Peter comforted her and told her it was only a dream, a very bad dream, that dark, familiar look crept back into his face.
***
That night, Beth lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Harry wasn’t home yet, and he had neglected to call. Beth was alone. She was very tired, but she didn’t want to fall asleep, as she was afraid that the dream would come back to haunt her. Beth knew now that, in the dream, she had killed the boy that the man had been crying over, and she didn’t want to relive killing the poor man all over again.
Another thought struck her. Didn’t the man say he was her husband? her mind questioned her. While he did look familiar, it definitely wasn’t Harry. For one thing, Harry had big muscles. This man was physically fit, but he didn’t have large muscles. Also, Harry never cried, and this man was bawling. You also don’t have kids the voice in her head reminded her. Beth sighed. She really wanted to have children, but it never seemed to work out for her and Harry.
She curled up in a ball and cried herself to sleep. That night, her dreams were haunted by visions of ghosts and murder.
***
The next morning, Beth went into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Harry hadn’t come back last night either, so she was still in the house by herself. She popped some bread in the toaster and walked to the fridge. She took the butter out and put it on the kitchen table. Then, she sat down to wait for her toast.
That was when someone knocked at the door.
She walked over to answer the door. Peter was there, and he was holding a set of car keys. He smiled at her, and she invited him inside. “Harry hasn’t come back yet, huh?” asked Peter. She shook her head no, and started up a pot of coffee.
Peter took a seat at the kitchen table. After a moments silence, he said, “Beth, I’m going to leave my truck here. I thought you could use it if you ever need to get into town.” He smiled, jingled the keys at her and laid them on the tabletop.
She brought the toast and the coffee to the table. She offered Peter a slice, but he politely refused. Then, she said, “Thank you for the truck, Peter, but won’t you need it to get into town yourself?”
He smiled and said, “I prefer walking… So, has Harry called you lately?” he questioned her, sensing her unease.
“No, he hasn’t. I’m getting a little worried about him. Normally, he would have called me by now.”
“I wouldn’t be too worried about it. Harry is a tough guy, so I’m pretty sure he can handle anything that comes his way.”
Just then, the phone rang. Peter was closest to it, so he answered it. “Hello?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Beth’s friend, Peter. Who are you?”
“Oh. Hi, Peter. It’s Harry. Would you put Beth on, please?”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Peter handed the phone to Beth. “It’s Harry.”
“Thanks, Peter.” Beth put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Harry.”
“Why is Peter with you?”
“He was going to let me borrow his truck while you were gone. Harry, you’ve been gone for some time and haven’t even called me.”
“I’m going to be at my parent’s house for a while because the two of us need some time apart.” Another voice, which was probably Harry’s Mom, called out, “Harry! Breakfast!” Harry said, with a slight tone of relief, “Gotta go, Beth.” Without even a good-bye or an I Love You, Harry hung up. Beth sighed and placed the phone back in its cradle. Peter had a look on his face that said, I want to say something, but I’ll wait ‘till you feel better.
Beth looked at Peter and forced herself to smile. “Let’s go, Peter. We have work to do.” Peter smiled back, and stood up.
***
In the forest, Beth and Peter dug in shifts. Peter was digging first, he would dig for thirty minutes or so, and then it would be her turn. Beth always found herself digging a little bit longer than Peter did, but she didn’t want to talk to him, as she had finally placed why the man in her dream looked so familiar.
The man in her dream had looked like Peter.
She knew it couldn’t possibly be Peter. For one thing, Peter was solid, and ghosts weren’t solid. She had hugged him good-bye before, she had accidentally bashed her head against his, and he had held her and comforted her as a good friend would when she had had that awful dream. So despite all these factors, why did the man look so much like her friend?
Maybe he had a brother, she thought. Her mind immediately snapped back, He would have told you!
Peter grabbed her shoulder and shook her roughly. Beth gasped and turned over and looked at Peter. His face was filled with concern, and he appeared a little scared. “Are you all right, Beth? You looked like you were about to faint.”
Beth stared at Peter and said, surprisingly calm, “Peter, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Peter seemed surprised and a little hurt. “Beth, you know you can trust me.”
Beth looked him in the eyes. He wasn’t smiling, but something told her that he was lying to her. “I think you’re hiding something.”
Peter’s eyes grew sad and pleading. “Finish digging, Beth. That’s all I ask. I can’t do this by myself. Please help me!” As with the first dream, Peter’s eyes had an irresistible pleading look to them.
Beth sighed and nodded. She thought about the dreams, shivered, and resumed digging.
Suddenly, the shovel clinked against something. Beth looked down, startled. The sunlight that filtered through the trees showed something white. Several things, actually. Beth was too shocked to scream.
What she and Peter were looking at were a bunch of bones.
Peter smiled. “Okay Beth, we’re almost done. All we have to do is bring these to the graveyard.”
She nodded dumbly, still too shocked to respond. She helped Peter gather up the bones. Then, her legs felt like rubber- and everything went black.
***
Beth woke up in the woods. Everything was still dark, and it dawned on her that it was night. She stood up and looked around. Peter was nowhere in sight, and neither were the bones. She shuddered at the thought of them.
She remembered something that Peter had said when they had first met: “Don’t go into the woods by yourselves, unless someone who knows their way around them, such as me, is with you.”
Beth realized that Peter wasn’t there. She knew where she lived, but there really weren’t any landmarks, not to mention all the trees made it so easy to get lost. She sat at the base of the tree and started to cry. Peter was so concerned about his stupid bones that he had completely forgotten about her, and left her alone in there. She glanced down, and her eyes rested on the pile of bones. Peter had left her and the bones there… but where did he go?
A hand descended onto her shoulder. She gasped and turned around, and she immediately came face to face with Peter. She didn’t know if it was the moonlight or not, but he definitely looked paler… and transparent.
“Beth, I was keeping a secret from you. A BIG secret. You see, those bones… are mine.”
Beth just stared at him blankly. Naturally, she would have been shocked, but somehow, deep inside, she had been expecting this.
Peter continued talking. “I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t want to scare you away. I’ve been waiting so long to be put to rest, so when you came, I thought I would have finally had my chance.’
Beth looked at him. “That man in my dream… Was it you?”
Peter nodded. “Yes, it was.” He confided. You see my wife… Well, she was kind of crazy. I usually could keep her in check, but one day she just lost it and… Well, you know what happened next.”
Beth realized that she was crying. Peter saw this and smiled. “Thank you for everything, Beth. All you have to do now is bury me in the graveyard, and I’ll finally be put to rest.”
Beth nodded, and she and Peter gathered up the bones and left.
***
While they were walking, Peter had told her about his wife, and why he and his son were buried at the tree. His wife was crazy, and one day when he wasn’t home she had gotten enraged at something their son had done. When Peter had come home, their son’s dead body was there to greet him. His wife, who was still angry, had killed him as well, and only then did she finally calm down. The reason they were buried at the tree was because Peter’s wife didn’t know what to do, so she buried him and his son’s bodies there. So, in reality, Peter’s spirit was representing both his spirit and his son’s.
There had been an investigation, but their bodies had never been found. For a while, he would appear to people through dreams and beg them to help him. No one would, however, as Beth’s house was the one he had died in- and, as a result they knew he was a ghost, and they would pack up their bags and leave almost immediately after. He had decided to wait for the right person, someone who had never heard his story and, therefore, wouldn’t be scared when he arrived - and that had been Beth. It was at this point in the story that they had reached the town cemetery.
Beth thought that it would have taken her longer to dig the grave, but it actually didn’t take long at all. She had a feeling that Peter was sending her strength, and after everything that had happened so far, she figured that it was true.
When she finished, Beth looked up at Peter’s ghost and said, “I guess you’re leaving now.”
Peter nodded and smiled. “I’ll always be there for you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and said, “I’ll be lonely with you gone. ”
Peter said, “Back when I was alive, I had a friend named Eric Simon. He lived in Detroit… He would probably take care of you and help you out if you needed a friend.”
“Really?”
“Yes… Especially if you tell him that Peter sent ya.” He winked.
“I’ll really miss you.”
“I know. I’ll miss you, too. Good-bye.”
“Bye.” Peter vanished. The last thing he did before leaving this world was wink at her. Beth looked down at the mound of freshly turned dirt where Peter now lay and felt tears stinging her eyes. Quietly, she let them flow.
***
Beth had finished packing her bags, and had loaded them in the red truck Peter had given her. She only packed her clothes and a few small belongings in her suitcases, and some other things in Harry’s. She had decided to go to Detroit and find that Eric guy after all. Even though she had never met him, she figured he would help her out if she mentioned Peter.
Beth had decided to leave Harry. She thought about leaving him a note, but she decided against it. Beth knew Harry’s type, so if she told him about her plans to go to Detroit, he would probably follow her and force her to come back with him. Besides, when Harry discovered that her stuff was missing from the house, he should get the hint.
She turned around and took one last look at the house. It was the type of house she wanted, but she couldn’t stay there- not after all she had been through. If Harry wanted it, he could have it.
Her destination set in her heart, she got into the pick-up truck, and put the keys in the ignition. She revved up the engine, backed down the driveway, then headed forward down the long stretch of road that paved the way to her uncertain future.
-By Sabrina Chianese
Age 13
Room #241
I punched in the code; this was it, the moment I’ve been waiting for for as long as I can remember. Once I heard the voice say “Password Accepted.” I couldn’t even breathe through my excitement. Right then and there the door to room #241 slowly opened. I gasped, no one, no matter how far they have traveled, could ever travel into a world this enchanting.
I had to pinch myself; just to make sure what I was seeing was real. I almost fainted, but knew there was more to come that I just couldn’t miss.
Sure, room #241 had all white walls, with an all white floor, and an all white ceiling. The room was bare, nothing was in it, but it’s not what the room can make, it’s what you can make of the room. The secret was to believe in yourself, if you believe you could create another world. You could be anybody you want to be and you can do anything you want to do.
I closed my eyes, thinking over and over again, “I believe in magic!” and when I opened my eyes I saw what I came for. A whole new world awaited me as I took everything into view, the waterfall, the mountains, and the ocean blue as ever, everything I could explore! This was too beautiful; I couldn’t keep this to myself. Everyone should have the chance to see this, and everyone does. Room #241 was the answer to everything; it could tell you anything you want to know. The sad thing is that no one wants to listen.
All you need is your imagination, but no one is going to see the breath taking view of a new world because they think imagination is little kid entertainment, they made a large mistake. Scientifically, when somebody grows up, the older they get, the less imaginative they become. We can change that, but right now, new worlds and new adventures lie in the hands of children, where it should be. But adults, don’t worry, room #241’s door is open.
-By Alison Palmer
Age 12
I had to pinch myself; just to make sure what I was seeing was real. I almost fainted, but knew there was more to come that I just couldn’t miss.
Sure, room #241 had all white walls, with an all white floor, and an all white ceiling. The room was bare, nothing was in it, but it’s not what the room can make, it’s what you can make of the room. The secret was to believe in yourself, if you believe you could create another world. You could be anybody you want to be and you can do anything you want to do.
I closed my eyes, thinking over and over again, “I believe in magic!” and when I opened my eyes I saw what I came for. A whole new world awaited me as I took everything into view, the waterfall, the mountains, and the ocean blue as ever, everything I could explore! This was too beautiful; I couldn’t keep this to myself. Everyone should have the chance to see this, and everyone does. Room #241 was the answer to everything; it could tell you anything you want to know. The sad thing is that no one wants to listen.
All you need is your imagination, but no one is going to see the breath taking view of a new world because they think imagination is little kid entertainment, they made a large mistake. Scientifically, when somebody grows up, the older they get, the less imaginative they become. We can change that, but right now, new worlds and new adventures lie in the hands of children, where it should be. But adults, don’t worry, room #241’s door is open.
-By Alison Palmer
Age 12
Thursday, July 16, 2009
How My Life Is a Disaster
It felt like I was riding a tiger in the middle of the jungle.
“Dad, you need to slow down. You’re going 40 miles per hour in a 25 speed limit zone.”
“Don’t tell me how to drive Sarah; I don’t need a 10 yr old girl’s advice.” My dad said sternly I knew he was thinking some of my advice was good just he didn’t want to admit it. Suddenly, I heard the Police’s siren and I knew they were coming for us, and that’s when I saw them coming right behind us. My Dad didn’t stop he kept on going, he thought he could get away from the cops well let me tell you something he’s crazy!
“Dad pull over your going to get a big ticket if don’t.” I yelled so he could hear me.
Actually I was amazed what he did he pulled over. “Thank you.” I whispered. The police pulled over too, got out of the car and started talking about how you can’t go that fast and you have a kid in the car! I had enough action for one day. The police gave my dad a ticket. “Can we go home now?” I asked. “Sure Kiddo.” He answered
We drove the speed limit the rest of the way home. When we pulled up to our house, I noticed the green house was missing!! It was my favorite place to be. I would watch the turtles glide across the water and the butterflies landing upon each flower drinking the nectar. Now everything had disappeared. I walked inside my house almost crying but trying to hold back my tears. Why had everything happen to me? Was this what I deserved? Those were the questions that rushed around my head every second. Now it was time to go to bed. Next day, I would have to go to a place I hated most school.
“Morning Sunshine” My mother smiled “Good morning” I replied. My mom had cooked me my favorite break feast. Nice crispy toast, scrambled eggs and sausages. After, I finished my break feast I had put on my clothes; a white top and jeans. My mom had driven me to
They were aggressive, and would say rude comments. They were bullies.
When they talked to me I thought they hissed like cats that were angry.
It felt like they were 10 of them but there were only 2. I almost fainted when they had come near me!
The day had passed quickly and I was walking home from school. When I got to my house it was kind of dark but you could still find your way through. My mom had made a cake; it tasted tart, and was as hard as a rock. I finished my book and headed to bed. I dreamed about everything bad that happened to me, and wondered if anything good was going to happen. That’s when I realized everything wasn’t as bad as I thought because people in other parts of the world had died or are dying of starvation and have no where to sleep. I had it good at my house a nice bed, and good food except when my mother bakes cake. I shouldn’t take anything for granted.
-THE END-
-By
Age 11
The Journey
It all started as a happy family reunion, and then turned into a life threatening disaster.
The happily reunited family of Jasmine Rice met each other at the ‘Cooking Pot’ Hotel one sunny afternoon. I, Ricky Rice, was like your typical grain of Jasmine Rice. I was short and skinny, and loved to have fun. I was having the time of my life that afternoon with my family. In one corner of the hotel, my cousins and I spent some quality time together by playing board games. We laughed and squealed. We had a food fight, and made a huge mess. By the time we ran out of food to throw, our clothes were completely stained. My reddish brown shirt was covered in ice-cream, and yellow mustard. My cousin, Jamie was in an even worse condition. She had gum in her hair! In other words, we were all a mess. As for the parents, they sat in another corner of the hotel eating and drinking while catching up on each other’s lives.
No one had expected it. All of a sudden the water rushed in. I heard the drowned cries of my family, as we were swept off of our feet. We all gasped, and tried to swim to the surface for air. Unfortunately, none of my family could swim except for me. Last summer, I had taken swimming lessons, in hope of one day becoming a lifeguard at one of the local beaches. I watched helpless and in terror, as one by one, my family sunk to the bottom of the ‘Cooking Pot’ Hotel. I felt someone grab onto my leg, and try to pull me down. I knew right away that they were just tying to get some air. “Let go!” I yelled, shaking that person off of me. As soon as he or she let go, I realized that I was getting tired of treading water. The heat of the cooking pot was starting to get to me, and I began to sweat and lose my concentration.
Then my muscles froze, and I started to sink to the bottom. Right before I was about to lose all hope of ever getting out of this mess, and living through it, the top of the hotel opened, and a giant hand reached down, grabbed the pot, and pulled us out. A lady drained the water out of the pot. I watched in despair as some of my (now dead) family members rolled out of the pot, and down the drain. I sat there with the remaining of my dead family members. Just then, a spoon came down. It scooped us up, and dropped us onto a white, cold, slippery plate. I fought my way through the heavy bodies to get some air. When I got to the surface, I observed my surroundings. I was nowhere near where I was before.
“Mom, I’m famished!” I heard someone say. “Here you go, honey.” Someone replied in the distance. Now, the plate I was on was right in front of a human boy. He had blonde hair, and a baby blue T- shirt on. From what I could see, he looked no older than ten years old. The human boy picked up a bottle that had brownish liquid in it. The bottle read: Soy Sauce. He poured it on me, and the dead bodies around me. Then I realized that the boy was holding the ‘Devil’s Fork’. I yelled as the fork came closer to me, and brought me to the ‘Tunnel of Doom’. As I went in, the tunnel closed on me. I slipped off of the fork, and rolled down the tongue. I grabbed the Uvula for dear life. Unfortunately, some saliva hit me, and loosened my grip. “Ahh!” I yelled, as I slipped and fell. Down the Esophagus I went, searching for something to grab onto. After about five seconds of running my hands down the Esophagus walls, I landed on something slimy. Immediately, I knew I was in the stomach of the human boy. I paused at the entrance, eyeing the funny looking liquid ahead of me. Another mouthful of food came down the Esophagus, and into the stomach, and pushed me into the liquid. I knew that the bubbly liquid was acid. “Ow!” I yelled, as it burned a hole in my body. I scrabbled out of the acid, and pushed myself against a stomach wall for support.
All of a sudden, there came a low grumble, and I was pushed out of the stomach, and into the slimy small intestine. I ran down the narrow passage, in search of an exit. It was extremely dark in there. Once or twice, I stepped in some bile. I howled in pain as the bile dissolved one of my arms, and an eye. After a long while of unsuccessful searching, I was pushed into the large intestine. It was so slippery! I tried to grab onto something for support. Then my hand accidentally brushed something mushy and cold. “Ew,” I mumbled to myself. I knew it must have been some food waste. Once again, I wandered through the passageway, searching for an exit. After a while, I heard a sloshing noise, and before I knew it, I was pushed down the large intestine, and then out. Then I fell and everything became white. With a plopping noise, I landed in some water. I had escaped! Well, what ever was left of me had. I was a mess! I was missing an eye, an arm, and to add to that, I had a hole in me. I was also all soggy! Gross! I looked down, and saw another hole. “Oh, great,” I mumbled, “more holes”. I looked up to see where I was. Not a very pretty sight. From what I just saw, I guessed I was in a toilet. Then, all of a sudden, I started to spin, and was sucked into the hole below me. For the longest time, I was carried through the tunnels. Finally, I emerged, and found myself in murky water. It was salty. I drifted, and then saw a really weird animal I had never seen before. It was gray, had big teeth, and huge fins! It swam up to me, opened its tooth- covered mouth, and swallowed me. “Great, not again.” I said, disappointed.
-THE END-
-By Katherine Zimmerman
Age 13
The Mystery Of The Missing Document
One night Rachel was getting ready for a masquerade party. She was going to be a celebrity. she just got done doing her hair when the doorbell rang. " Oh, that must be my boyfriend now." said Rachel ( her boyfriend is escorting her to her party.) she opened the door when someone pushed his way in. She started screaming. Her dad came in and started doing karate on the stranger ( her dad knows karate because he used to be a spy). she yelled to her dad " Im going to call the police!" When the stranger heard that he took off. " I think we should check to see if anything is missing." said her father," We need to because the stranger might have been at the door to distract us." " Ok." said Rachel. After ten miutes later her dad said there was a document missing, after he said that, the police came through the door. When her dad was talking to the police, Rachel decided to look for clues. " Hmm, theres footprints and the thieves credit card!" said Rachel (she knows that its the thieves credit card because her dad doesnt do credit cards.) She showed it to a policemen who said they would see if they could trace the owner , and the next morning they found the guy and his helper and they both went to jail.
-THE END-
-By Morgan Taubert
Age 12
What Lurks Below
The day is hot, you are tired from exhaustion as beads of salty sweat drip down your forehead. You see the nice cool water of the lake that seems almost too tempting. Testing the water by dipping your fingers in as the small fish in the shallow area swim away. You make your way into the water, the deeper you get, the more refreshing it is. You get to a point towards the the middle of the lake that only your toes are touching the sandy ground. The tiny ripples tickle your chin. You are completely relaxed, not thinking about anything, without a care in the world. If you were were actually aware of the large black shape that swam right past you, you would have been rather startled No, you have failed to realize that you are in danger. You close your eyes and slowly float but, the water touches your nose uncomfortably and you awaken. As soon as that happens, something smooth and slimy but, rather hard brushes against your ankles. Now that you have drifted a little farther from shore you need to swim a bit to keep your head above water. The unknown creature bumps into you again but this time just a little harder. You see its black, menacing figure swim away, its body shape blurred from the murky water. Unsure of what to do, you start to swim away. As soon as your legs kick something grabs of one of them. This monster of the lake has you in its razor sharp jaws. the pain flows throughout your entire body. It has been watching you since your fingers disturbed the water. It was far too big to be satisfied with all the other small fish that shared its home. You were an easy target away from your main element, land. Even an Olympic swimmer could not have gotten away. Its structure is a perfect design for a predator of water. You want to scream but you are dragged under water so fast you do not even have time to catch a breath. You can't see, can't feel, can't hear, can't breath. No smell, and no taste. All your senses are useless and all that's left to do is die. You have heard the stories and now you are about to become one. The creatures grip is impossible to get away from, and even if you did part of your leg would be gone and you would bleed to death. You never even had the chance to say good bye to the people you have loved. The jaws dig deeper into your flesh. All your strength is gone and your life is soon to be gone also. It drags you down even farther, your head compressed with the water surrounding. Life seems to have rushed passed you. Mind racing just wishing it would end. Finally everything slows down as the darkness takes over.
-THE END-
-By Ariel Pennetti
Age 12
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